Let Live the Disaster
It wouldn’t be an uncommon scene for you to find my studio neatly tidied. The surface of my workbench wiped clean of paint splatters, new paintings stacked neatly in a pile, all instruments at a right angle, jars of paintbrushes on a shelf, watercolor blocks stacked by order of size. This is especially true when I am expecting company. I also try to practice keeping my workspace “ready” for projects. That usually means neatness.
Currently, this is not the case. Neat and tidy are descriptors far from the reality my home studio.
A couple weeks ago, I received a fat stack of framed prints from an exhibit that came to a close. I have also recently swapped out some paintings that were hanging at another store in Duluth. I just received an order of frames for a new collection that I will (hopefully) be launching next Saturday.
I’m also in the middle of some new painting projects. Commissions, as well as many of my own personal artistic endeavors.
At first glance, this space looks like an absolute war zone. The dwindling perfectionist that lives inside me so badly needs it to appear tidy. I feel her, ready to spring into action in a desperate hunger for control at any moment.
The thing is, tidying up would not be pragmatic right now. I am smack-dab in the middle of some creative projects that are extremely important to me.
Tidying up would completely disrupt the flow of the creative movement in which I find myself pleasantly ensnared.
There is something revolutionary about this mess. I’ve left nearly opaque jars of dirty water sitting out, a palette caked with a mosaic of dried paint, my favorite brushes strewn about — each attribute indicative that this period is one of progress, not to be halted by a neurotic desire for order.
You see, by leaving everything out, I am keeping my space ready for creative whims. If I have an idea that begs to be jotted down (because sometimes inspiration does not wait for dishes to be done), my sketchbook, my no. 8 micron pen, my paints, and a jar of gray water are already at the ready, open and receptive to any idea that begs to be made manifest.
I’m certain at some point when I feel like some of these projects have come to a close, I’ll once again take pleasure in stacking everything into neat piles. I’ll wipe my workbench clear of paint drips and water splashes. I’ll soak my butcher tray and scrub out the dried paint. I’ll rinse out jars and clean and dry my brushes. Order will be restored.
There is a time to tidy up and there is a time for creative spaces to resemble the chaotic aftermath of a disaster zone. Now is the time for the latter.
All of this to add… I am so excited to soon share with you some of the projects I’ve been working on. Next Saturday, February 1st, I plan to launch 10 new miniature watercolor paintings. These pieces will be perfect for small walls, cozy corners, and gallery walls that beg for a lot of character packed into an 8x10 frame.
As always, thank you for being here. Thank you for sharing in this journey with me, for caring about my process — whether you’re a fellow creative, a collector, or a friend or family member — knowing you’re reading this, getting inspired, relating, or just generally enjoying my candor about my creative pursuits, genuinely fills me with gratitude.
Take exquisite care of yourselves, dear friends. Maybe, go make a mess today, let live the disaster, see what magic unfolds…