Mental Health and Mud
Every day feels the same in that I wake up, I go downstairs to my studio, I sit at my table, I think about how desperately I need to clean my table and reclaim my clay, I stare at my multiple open bags of different clay. I think about how easy it should be to open my bag of clay, stick my hands in, and create something. Anything. An animal should be easy, I have made so many dragons that I could do it in my sleep. I start playing with the clay in my hands, shaping the body. A small piece, easy to work with and pinch into the lima bean shape I usually start with. The legs come next, fat coils that I will inevitably pinch clay off of as I always seem to make them too big. I start with the back legs, using my small wooden block that I got in Phil’s figure modeling class 4 years ago that has not yet left my arsenal of tools to pack the clay from the leg into the body, creating a very fleshy thigh. At this point, the urge to squish the clay back into a ball and shove it into the bag it came from becomes overwhelming. I should be able to finish making this. I have made so many sleeping animals. I try to push through, forcing myself to create the front legs, squishing them onto the body. Once I get to the head, everything becomes too overwhelming, and the clay ends up squished in my hands and back in the bag it came from. At this point, I usually end up doom scrolling on my phone. If I stay sitting in my studio while I do this, it tricks my mind into thinking I’m being productive.
You would think that living and working in the same place would make it easy to be productive. After all, if I get an idea in the middle of the night and I have the energy and the willpower, I could absolutely just walk downstairs and get to work. Unfortunately, it has not been going that way for me. Creating art is like an equation for me, where motivation + inspiration = art. If I’m missing a part of the equation, nothing will be made. More often than not, I will have so much inspiration but my hands are tied to cinderblocks and just can’t move. Rarely, I will have the motivation to create something more than a lump, but also be experiencing the worst bout of artist block I have ever experienced in my life. It is an extraordinarily beautiful moment when I have both parts of the equation, as THAT is when art is made. Lately, it seems my motivation meter and my inspiration meter are only ever half full at most. They never seem to line up.
I feel like I’m dragging my body through the mud. And then I’m trying to make something out of that mud. I can’t tell if that’s poetic or if I’m exhausted.
The fluorescent studio lighting on my poorly thrown cups is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Imposter syndrome is my worst enemy. It chases me up the stairs at night, it creeps over me while I’m sleeping. It is sitting on my shoulder during the day, whispering in my ear and taking over my thoughts. No one can see it but me, no one can hear what it says to me when we’re alone together. It’s like an annoying gnat that won’t stop flying in my face.
Trying new things is so scary. I want to stick with what’s familiar and what I know, but I will never grow as an artist if I don’t take risks. I constantly feel like I’m so close to making my work feel and look how I want it to, but so far away at the same time. I LOVE underglazes with all of my heart, they feel so warm and welcoming to me. But a tiny little voice in my head tells me I’m not making them look good enough, other people are better at using them, which is ridiculous, I recognize that, yet…
I’m at a point in my practice where I crave new things. I am constantly implementing new techniques, new types of sculpting, new surface explorations, and nothing is satisfying the itch for something new. Deep natural tones seem to be calling to me more and more recently, and I NEED to answer that call. I see things that work for other artists, and I try to make them work for me. I am a medley of everything I have ever been inspired by.
Cone 10 terrifies me!! Lowfire and cone 6 are like a warm hug. Cone 10 seems cold and scary. But she is so beautiful. Earthy and natural tones have never felt as inviting to me as they do now. ESPECIALLY paired with gold luster. It breaks my heart that luster is so much harder to get my hands on. Mother Of Pearl is beautiful, but does not scratch the itch that gold does. It’s insulting to discover something works so well for you and your work only to have it be ripped away.
