How do I find my art making inspiration?
From left to right, this is ‘Magical Tree’ in progress. Gouache and mixed media on paper, 10” x 8”. 2022 ©Kris Cahill. This piece took about two months to show up.
I’ve learned that if I sit around and wait for inspiration to knock on the door and announce its arrival, I’ll be waiting a long time.
Ideas and inspiration show up from everywhere, all of the time, and the best thing I can do to welcome them into my studio is be present. The creative process is one place to let go of trying too hard, it will never work for me when I’m in effort. I’ve got to show up, and be willing to discover, create, destroy, invent, experiment, make a mess, and play. Voila! Here comes inspiration.
Being in effort is different from making the effort to show up and do the work. Commitment is the key. There’s something so satisfying about playing and allowing the magic to arrive.
Sometimes my inspiration shows up while reading a book, sometimes while washing dishes or cleaning my house. Sometimes it shows up from seemingly out of nowhere - or does it?
One thing I’ve found for myself is that actively creating begets more creativity. There is no ‘stuck’ in this equation, not really. Yes, sometimes there’s fatigue, a need to rest or do something different. Get away from the art. Go for a walk, make a delicious meal, listen to music, move my body. Or do nothing, a rare commodity in this day and age. I remember earlier times in my life when just sitting around and being wasn’t so very hard to do. There was plenty of time and space for all of it.
Recently I’ve been experimenting a lot, playing with new (to me) art materials, updating my skills, and practicing basics like mixing color, working with mediums and glazes. I’m reading books by other artists, and in one of those I learned how to make fluid acrylic paint from regular acrylic paint, glazing medium, and water. I’m getting myself into present time with tools and techniques, building my art practice from within.
I know from experience that all of this is helping me to get ready for a new way to make art. My entire being rejoices at having art tools and supplies active in my life again. Mixing color, making marks and textures, and playing on paper and canvas, all inspire me.
I am learning to let go of the demand to produce and make something pretty.
There’s a lot of pressure to make a finished perfect product, and to make it worth the time and money spent making art. When I get caught up in this way of thinking, inspiration and fun go right out the window. Fear and effort take over, along with invalidation, comparing myself to everyone else who ever painted, etc. Okay, maybe it’s not quite that dramatic, but you get the point.
I realize now more than ever that while playing and making art, I am learning how to play. Remembering might be a better word here. There is no one finished product that can do this, it’s not about perfect. The way I feel after spending several hours moodling* about on paper with my paints and colored pencils is the goal for me. Making art heals me. Sometimes I have a finished piece I’m really happy with, often I have a bunch of experiments that are deeply satisfying because I took the time to do them.
There’s a new series of paintings coming, and this is how I do it.
When I find myself feeling uncomfortable in my creative space, in resistance, a little cranky, uncertain, unwilling to put my energy and attention on doing this thing that’s irritating me right now, I’ve learned that this is precisely the place to be. There is a payoff coming, and it could be soon. I need to stop taking all of it so seriously, it’s a process.
As a younger person, I had this idyllic picture about how the creative process would and should be. I imagined it would be a simple thing to make art once inspiration showed up, and that it would come from outside of me somewhere. As an older wiser human, I now know I have a lot to do with that inspiration, and that it comes from within me, from my spirit.
While I am constantly inspired by the work of others, so grateful to the many artists on earth who, just by showing up to make their work, give to all of us, I know it’s up to me to make mine. Nobody else can make my art for me, nor do they have the power to stop me if I own it for myself.
So all of this is to say that this weird uncomfortable nerdy dance I do with myself from time to time is how I get ready to create the space for a new picture, or in this case, a new series of pictures, to start making their way through me.
The piece I feature in this blog, ‘Magical Tree’, is an example of my recent experiments. I’d given it up many times, packed it away, stopped working on it, and then the day came when I wanted to do more, and this magical looking tree just showed up. I’m calling it complete. It’s available in my online shop here.
“The Imagination works slowly and quietly.”
*The etymology of the word "moodle" is unclear, but it was used in the early 20th century to essentially mean dawdling and frittering away time while letting your mind wander and chew on thoughts in a relaxed way. In Brenda Ueland's formulation (If You Want to Write), it basically means daydreaming with a pencil in your hand—you can do it on a computer, but I think it is more productive with the added quiet of pencil and paper—and not forcing yourself to write anything until you are moved to do so.
