Too Much of a Good Thing
I am a greedy learner
I want to know it all. Perhaps it is because I got a late start in art, as it is a second career. With every new thing I learn there are four more things that I want to learn. Each exploration into a material brings its own questions, avenues of exploration, and possible paths to follow albeit different during the pandemic.
A time to re-focus
As an introvert, there are parts of the pandemic that suited me well. This is not to minimize in any way the horror, anxiety and tragic loss experienced by so many during this pandemic. The forced pause on so many outside things…exhibitions, openings, networking must-dos… left room for a re-calibration. Time to think about where my work stood, where I wished to take it and what skills I wanted to acquire in order to move the work forward. Simultaneously there was an abundance of online content available. I had access to classes that at any other time would have been much more difficult for me to take whether due to travel, time or monetary restrictions.
A voracious mind, insatiable curiosity and easily available cost-effective content led to a bonanza of offerings: online classes, lectures, artists and curator discussion panels, artist studio visits not previously offered online through museums and non-profit organizations. So much content… dare I say too much content!
Too many offerings…
In the last fifteen months I have enrolled in: a collagraph class, two cyanotype classes, a DSLR class (to learn how to shoot my own work), two bookmaking classes, more than one papermaking class, an ink making class, a natural dying class, an encaustic survey with fifty-two classes by a plethora of different instructors. I participated in a free, amazing, content-laden online bookmaking conference (Book Paper Thread). All this content feeds into the material, process and conceptual underpinnings of my current work. All provide information I have sought over the last several years to add to my studio toolbox.
I say “enrolled” because I have not actually taken, digested and put into practice all of these classes. The good news is if unable to participate live, I have access to the classes for between 2 months and three years. The bad news is if unable to participate live, I have access to the classes for between 2 months and three years!! Not taking it live meant it was easier to procrastinate and think “I’ll take it later.” And now it is “later.”
Quieting the deluge
I look in my studio and I have piles and piles dedicated to materials for each one of these processes I haven’t had the time to explore. To digest the full weight of what these processes offer me or what I can do with them in my own work. I am in a state of online information overwhelm. A treasure chest of riches, with so many sparkling gems, it is hard to know where to begin. I am excited by each one of these classes. I have ideas about how to use and authentically incorporate each into my work. Although long, the summer days are limited. I'm forced to prioritize what to engage with now. Papermaking is best done outdoors. Cyanotype and the ability to expose my plates to the sun is best done in the summer. Ink making and natural dye making use many natural materials now available in seasonal abundance outside my front door. What to tackle and dive into now? What to save and savor later? Such a glorious embarrassment of riches.
And yet… how amazing it is to feel excited about so many possibilities. To feel like there is not enough time to learn what I want to learn and try what I want to try. This is part of the journey to create and make something that has meaning to me and ultimately will resonate and have meaning with others. The learning, the experimentation, all the technical development into these processes is to help me better deliver my artistic voice so that it is singular, incisive and clearly able to convey what it is I want to say and how. So I choose, take a breath, and dive in.
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