It’s Not That Serious
I recently met up with one of my close friends I hadn’t seen in a while. She’s a creative, a writer and has a knack for crafting witty memes.
As we were loudly donating our unsolicited, existential opinions about creativity in a coffee shop that was probably a little too small for our concerningly transparent trauma dumps, we were delighted. Both of us had been feeling like our art was—while being consistently made—idly sitting by. Rapidly sharing our ideas, cracking up at ourselves and each other, it was a swell of bright, intense passion.
Sometimes, we take ourselves too seriously. Seriousness comes from a place of genuinity, integrity, and wanting to put the best step forward in the work that we do. But if there is no play, if there is no humor to shed light, how can anything have depth?
Being playful with my art helps me to explore. My collection of iconography is a vocabulary to tell a story. Fish, buttons, octopus, threads…it’s a world where I can bend rules, break them, or make entirely new ones. It is quite an honor.
But with this honor comes tension. When I get too engulfed in this tension, I find myself intimidated. And it’s not healthy to be scared all the time. So I laugh about it to cope. The moves I make within a piece then feel less daunting…and when the stakes feel lower, I’m drawn to break more rules.
I move through a piece by encountering each object and bulbs of color. Through this movement, I find a balance of where to subtly soften rules, where to surge individuality, and where to wonder. My brushes are a flashlight to the paths I explore.
At the end of the day, I’m fiddling my brush around a piece of fabric, channeling vessels of memory to glimpse the depths of life <3.