WIP-Finding My Voice

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When I hear from other artists that I have a style of my own, I swear I don’t even know how to receive that.  As I began this journey in earnest over a year ago, it was with huge anxiety over whether I had anything in me worthy enough to be expressed through mixed media and art journaling.  I found myself copying the styles and techniques of many artists while experimenting with my own, and I absorbed every minute of it because I was an eager student who honestly loved to create.  My art is seriously all over the place, at least it is to me.  And yes, I can see the growth in my work over time, and I am pretty proud of that.

But when I ask myself now if I see a style emerging, I mean something unique to me, I really don’t know.  The last thing I want to do is to spend my days copying the styles of others, because there is safety in that you see..I also understand that it is okay to do that while I am learning, because how is my style supposed to emerge if I have no knowledge of all that is available in techniques and how to use all the supplies that I spend a pretty penny buying on a regular basis? Can you say four e-courses anyone?

A post that I saw from an artist friend that I admire very much got me to thinking.  Her art speaks not only to her talent, but to the stories she weaves through her art.  I thought about her stories, her color choices, the subjects of her work.  In thinking about her work, I thought about my own, and who I am becoming as I create and sketch every day.

I realized that as I looked through my work from the past year, every piece speaks to some aspect of who I am.  Every one.  And there are many days that I struggle with what I see. Days that I don’t want to see what is coming through on the page.  There are times when I want to impose my will on what needs to express organically, and moments when I question if the work is fit for public consumption.

Regardless of the place of origin, each stroke that I choose speaks to who I am now and who I am becoming.  It excites me, scares the shit out of me, and frustrates the hell out of me. But isn’t this why we do what we do?  To see what’s on the other side of the charcoal and paint and torn pages?  To smile when we see ourselves in the final piece?

Truth is, I am still trying to figure that out. Lately, the women I create seem strong and confident looking, and there’s this thing I see in their eyes…it’s as if they are saying to me I see you, because I am you..and knowing that makes me very eager to keep going.

Thank you Robin Laws…

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