The Art of Faffing: Embracing the Quiet Moments in Creation
The Post-Show Slump: A Familiar Void
With the Mint collection launched and happily on the walls at Hayden Gallery, there's been a void in the studio. It's part of the rhythm of creating. A series of paintings are developed and nurtured. They're pondered and worked on, worked on and pondered till complete. Then, off they go to be photographed, framed, and displayed, and the cycle begins again. Only I'm not very good at diving straight back in. A bit of regrouping needs to happen.
The Art of Faffing: My Creative Resistance
Regrouping generally takes the form of a whole heap of faffing and multiple excuses. All of a sudden, the thing I love doing most, painting, becomes the most challenging thing in the world to do, and as such, I become exceptionally good at listing reasons why I can't possibly paint that day:
I have the wrong clothes on.
The art table's a mess.
The mint plant has green fly.
The laundry's been neglected.
Where's the sheet of fun gold stickers that sparkle every which way that I've totally forgotten about until this very moment.
I can't possibly do another thing until I've amalgamated last year's spreadsheet to keep track of that very important thing into an even more important spreadsheet for keeping track of this year's thing.
I've now drunk too much coffee, and I feel a bit sick!
Yadda, yadda, yadda, you get the picture.
A Compassionate Reframe: Being Kind to Myself
A curious and compassionate reframe to tackling this creative dip has been to look at the bigger picture. Often easier said than done, trust me. Top of the list is being kind to myself. I am not a machine. I am a human and need to show myself some compassion. Recognise the need for frivolity and fun and trust that my world won't come crashing down by gently taking my foot off the gas. In fact, it could prevent it from crashing in the first place.
The Power of Curiosity: Enter the Sardines
Second on the list is curiosity. This is one of my favourite words, so I'm fairly well-versed in its powers for good. With a keen eye for hunting out fresh inspiration, it's been a humble plate for sardines that has ticked this box.
A good friend of mine talks about palate cleansers between books. A light-hearted read sandwiched betwixt meatier novels. In this case, the sardines are my palate cleanser between more monumental mint plant paintings, and they've proved to be a curious distraction.
Unexpected Inspiration: From Fish to Tables
For a couple of afternoons, three to be exact (it's quite true what they say about fish and visitors), I played with paints, pastels and pencils. Squeezed out long forgotten colours, enjoyed the sensation of a fully loaded brush gliding across thick paper and all the while observing the shimmering silver scales of the little sardines. Total joy and an unexpected line of enquiry have emerged as a result. After all, a plate of fish belongs on a table, and tables are very much the focus of my bigger picture.
The Creative Feast: Taste, Ponder, Enjoy
Sometimes, curiosity and compassion must be served right up to you on a plate before you can recognise their nutritional value. Creativity is not a linear path of thought and task dished out in equal portions. It's a series of dishes spread over a dining table worth of time. Bursts of flavour invigorate the senses as you taste, ponder, converse, digest and enjoy the meal. Now, all I need is a thick slice of sourdough, freshly grilled sardines, a lemon wedge, and some cracked black pepper, and I'm set! Who's hungry?
Would you like to see the collection?
Jugs of foliage mingling with sardines on dinner plates and a great big, yet-to-be-exhibited Bottle & Branch collection painting called Take My Hand will be on display at The River and Rowing Museum during the Henley Arts Trail