- I’m not as random as I think; there are revealing themes and patterns in the things I collect if I take the time to look
- although all of it may be beautiful, there’s a palpable difference between the art that inspires me to get started, and art that adds to my resistance.
My creative moratorium
For the past month I’ve been in a self-imposed creative moratorium: a month-ish long span where I forbade myself from making any art. Seeing as we moved from Arizona to Ohio last month, it helped that I had packed away all my art supplies into a storage unit for the indefinite future; I’ve had no access to my beloved materials anyway.
My hope for this time was that absence would make the heart grow fonder, and I’d be able to spend that time collecting things that effortlessly inspired the current me, not the past me. You see, I felt I was in an art-rut: making things and not really enjoying the process – which, what’s the point?
You see, I felt I was in an art-rut: making things and not really enjoying the process – which, what’s the point?
I’m now at the end of my moratorium and I want to share what I found: the inspiration that has filled my creative well, the methodical way I reflected on what I collected, and the surprising conclusion I came to about the art that comes out of my hands versus the art I love to look at.
Collecting the inspiration
During my creative moratorium I collected lots of inspiration: I took pictures and screenshots with my phone, I journaled in morning pages, saved IG posts, jotted notes in Notion, and used the almighty Pinterest.
An important aspect to this collection phase was to remove any limits to what I was collecting; it may have been a creative moratorium (i.e. art), but I kept my eyes and feelers open to ANYTHING I seemed curious about, even if it didn’t seem related to art-making (recipes, adhd living tips, beauty products, social issues, things that made me laugh, songs I wanted on repeat, gifts I wanted to buy people, queries I was googling, anything.) I opened my heart and senses wide open and paid attention to the sensations of curiosity, excitement, admiration, goosebumps, and instincts. If I had to try to like something or talk myself into it or shame myself to like it, it did not get collected. This last bit is harder than I thought, as I was confronted with parts of myself I clung to but didn’t truly resonate with – my mask, if you will.
I was confronted with parts of myself I clung to but didn’t truly resonate with – my mask, if you will.
I’d also like to add I wasn’t a collection machine during my moratorium. I wasn’t a vacuum cleaner sucking every bit of inspiration dust from the world I could find; I was just living my life and noticing the things that caught my heart without trying.
Sorting the collected inspiration
The last week of my moratorium I’ve been sorting what I’ve collected to find themes, patterns, and sparks of exciting creative ideas. If I’m being the most honest, I was a little worried this whole moratorium was just code for “do nothing”, as that’s how effortless the collection phase was. HOLY HELL, when I started sorting all these seemingly disparate things into categories, I did find themes, I did find patterns and sparks of excitement for what’s next.
when I started sorting all these seemingly disparate things into categories, I did find themes, I did find patterns and sparks of excitement for what’s next.
Sorting pins into big categories
I ended up going to my “all pins” section on Pinterest, as I felt it was a solid representation of me collecting without a filter. I spent way too much time taking screenshots of the last few months of pins and brought them into Illustrator to drag and drop to my heart’s content. I started with basic, obvious, large categories first: art, interiors, clothing + beauty, and food.
Sub-categories + themes
While sorting images into these larger categories, sub-categories and themes started to emerge. For ex. my art section contained smaller groups of quilts, printmaking, painting, lettering + design, stitches, and holiday/gift/craft. While sorting my food images, clear themes of “desserts that feature fruit”, “sesame peanut sauce”, “salads with lots of stuff chopped up”, emerged. It’s not that I was surprised – I know I love me some sesame peanut sauce dishes – it’s more that I was comforted to see a crystalizing shape of myself amongst what felt like a very random dump of things.
It’s not that I was surprised – I know I love me some sesame peanut sauce dishes – it’s more that I was comforted to see a crystalizing shape of myself amongst what felt like a very random dump of things.
For fun, here’s some of the things I really love as revealed by my collecting and sorting:
painting:
- limited color palettes, earth tones w pops of bold color
- folk art
- stripes, grids, quilts
- imperfect geometrics
- clothing, animals, plants, flowers, houses, lettering (as motifs)
- rudimentary takes
- color swatches
printmaking:
- single color/two color prints
- imperfect lines
- printful texture
- tiny stamps
- monograms/crests
- greeting cards
- stamped patterns
food:
- carbs covered in creamy tomato sauces
- salads with lots of stuff chopped up
- sesame peanut sauce
- toast, many ways
- salmon rice bowls
- desserts that feature fruit
cool, cute, tiny, funny:
- silly rhymes
- things that are miniature (fruit, animals, foods, kitchen utensils)
- sassy things (but not any and all sassy things)
- animals with personality
- things personified
- tiny embroidery
personal style + beauty:
- large tops tucked into small bottoms/small tops tucked into large bottoms/large sweater over tighter under layer/etc
- casual
- plaid pants
- black tights
- big sweaters
- skirts
- classic denim
- classic tees
- leggings
- messy hair
- cognac +/or black leather
- neutrals w fun pops
- soft glam makeup
interiors:
- moody
- classic/timeless
- stripes
- soft light, warm woods, dark accents
- black and white checkered tile floors
- chair rail divides
- brass
And those are only the physical things. My journaling and following my curiosity also emphasized hobbies, values, and the impact I desire to lend effort to. Things like:
- writing
- hunger + homelessness
- illiteracy
- carpentry
- adhd support
- mental health
- mindful + present living
- emotional intelligence
- the advancement, safety, stability, and beyond of targeted minorities
- kindness
- home as a sanctuary
- waste reduction
- creativity as a form of connection, healing, and expression
- human design
What I learned about my style, the art I admire, and the space between them
I was already feeling pretty successful, excited, and inspired having found these big and small categories, these avenues of curiosity, paved entirely and uniquely for my tastes. I already had a list of starting places.
But something deeper clicked when I was sorting my “painting” board for the 15th time. I felt overwhelmed by how unorganized/unclear the board felt, which is what prompted me to keep sorting it; I couldn’t find threads. That’s when I noticed some of the images were so beautiful that I wish my name were signed to them, yet, they intimidated me and produced a feeling of resistance. While they were beautiful works I admired, they did not inspire me to create art. They stopped me. Meanwhile, there were these other images that, while I admired them too, I didn’t necessarily want to hang in my house or stake a claim to them. What they did do however, was whet my appetite to get to work. They left a little twinge in my left-hand, urging it to grab my gouache, pick up a paintbrush, turn to a new spread in my sketchbook. These pieces inspired me to make art.
“The art I love to stare at and the art that inspires me to create are different.”
“The art I love to stare at and the art that inspires me to create are different.” The thought came through so clearly, calmly, like favorite song lyrics. An answer to questions I’ve worried about since calling myself an illustrator: If I wouldn’t hang up my art in my own home then is it even any good? Worth making? Am I supposed to close the gap between the art my hands love to make and the art my eyes love to see? Am I an imposter?
If I wouldn’t hang up my art in my own home then is it even any good? Worth making? Am I supposed to close the gap between the art my hands love to make and the art my eyes love to see? Am I an imposter?
No. In my case as it turns out, there is art I love to stare at. Art I love to dress myself in. Art I love to hang in my home. Art that moves me. And then there is the art I create. The art that inspires me to begin again. The art that makes me hungry to be an artist instead of scared to be one.
and It’s a sweet idea to me, that maybe all this art we make as artists isn’t for ourselves or other people, it’s for each other.
and It’s a sweet idea to me, that maybe all this art we make as artists isn’t for ourselves or other people, it’s for each other.
So that became the clear dividing line in the artwork I love: what pieces truly inspire me to get started vs. what pieces produce resistance? I will be using the former as my muse as I exit my moratorium. For example, I’m absolutely obsessed with the work of Kirsten Sims (like, I would like to buy every single piece she’s ever made) shown above left, but the thought of making that work or sitting down to make something like it feels exhausting, impossible, hard, etc. They produce resistance to my own practice. The pieces above right all produce an eagerness, a curiosity, and excitement to touch my supplies, that’s the inspiration. I’m not saying I’ll never paint an intricate scene with people, but I’ll only get there with practice, and right now the practice that’s calling is found in my inspiration, not my resistance.
themes in the art I love that produces internal resistance:
- moody, blustery, traditional landscapes with fields, trees, barns, and small houses
- intricately illustrated scenes with action and lots of details
- full-bleed paintings with thick, overlapping paint strokes
- detailed characters + contemporary portraits
- funny cartoons/multi frame stories
themes in the art I love that produces internal urge to begin (inspiration)
- bold colors and earthy colors
- folk art
- simple shapes, organic profiles
- tiny, cute motifs
- grids, quilts, imperfect geo prints
- flowers, wonky and not too overcrowded
- phrases/letters
- overlapping
- carved prints and tiny stamps
- simple/rudimentary takes
- flat, velvety gouache paint
but I’ll only get there with practice, and right now the practice that’s calling is found in my inspiration, not my resistance.
I used to really struggle to talk about the art that I see in a productive way, but then the classic elements and principles of design cracked open the way I see everything. This class “Leveling Up your Art Game” will show you what I mean and get you on your own scavenger hunt for your current inspirations.
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