Blogless in Brookwood

Oh the shame of being blogless and workless. Up until recently I loved logging on to Twitter, enjoying a daily dose of banter, laughing out loud at the friendly spats, dipping into the posts of fellow artists’ work and keeping up to date with Twitfriends who have become real friends. But then I began to avoid it in the same way I have avoided polite reminders to update my website. This is because I feel embarrassed about the lack of work coming out of my own yard.

It has taken a jolt from a fellow artist on Twitter, @annleekeefer to finally tug my head from the sand. When I mentioned my current exhibition, the very talented Anna Lee posted a link to the ‘Latest Work’ page on my website, and tweeted very kindly, “Needless to say I am quite excitilated at the idea of new work from you.” (She has her own wonderful vocabulary) Another, @lizspurgeon asked where I was exhibiting and said she was looking forward to seeing new work. Not having completed any new works for the best part of a year, my reaction to these comments was a mixture of surprise that any new work from me should excite anticipation at all, and more, an overwhelming sense of letting the side down. On Twitter, I am in the company of a number of prolific artists, who no doubt are just as busy as I in their private lives if not more so, and for all I know, may have other jobs to support their ‘Real’ work, so you can understand why I am a not a little red-faced when I receive such interest in what I’m doing, or should I say, not doing.

In my defence, it has been a strange year for me. I have encountered some unexpected pitfalls and challenges, and a few tricky hurdles on the track, as well as spending quite a lot of time away exhibiting, but nonetheless, I have spent far too much of the spare time I have had thinking about “what to paint” and “what to write”, instead of striking out with the brush or the pen and seeing what transpires. Or indeed, developing some of the many ideas from my notebooks. This is not new, as those who know me can confirm. For whatever reason, I prioritize my work wrongly, always putting it behind other responsibilities instead of before until I am in an eleventh hour situation. Either this is out of a sense of duty or as an excuse to avoid my ongoing fear of failure, but this is how it is. Nobody is demanding I attend to other things first, so it is up to me to change things. I am taking steps to do this, but that is for another blog.

In the meantime, another prompt I had this time came from something pinned up on my studio wall, a great excerpt from a letter by Sol de Witt to his friend Eva Hesse, which epitomizes the blocked mindset I find myself in from time to time. For those creatives out there, who suffer the same periodic ‘blocks’, let me share it with you:

“You seem the same as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don’t! Learn to say ‘Fuck You’ to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, gasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, rumbling, rambling, fumbling tumbling ,scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose-sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding grinding grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO.”

Many before me have referenced this letter, it’s a common problem with artists, and Le Witt’s beseeching to just get on with it was absolutely right. Inactivity, inertia, creates an ever-decreasing circle. It is the very striking out that gets the creative juices flowing. John Anster in a translation of Faust from 1835, wrote:

"Then indecision brings its own delays, 
 And days are lost lamenting over lost days. 
 Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute; 
 What you can do, or dream you can do, begin it; 
 Boldness has genius, power and magic in it."

The last two lines, which I have quoted in a previous blog, I had always thought written by Goethe, as did, it seems, W. H. Murray, who quoted the last two lines in The Scottish Himalaya Expedition, 1951 talking about the importance of acting:

'But when I said that nothing had been done I erred in one important matter. We had definitely committed ourselves and were halfway out of our ruts. We had put down our passage money - booked a sailing to Bombay. This may sound too simple, but is great in consequence. Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:

“Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

He is not alone, these lines have a power of their own, and coming across them again, along with Anne Lee’s inspiring work ethic and generous recommendation of my work, has propelled me back into the studio. Quite why I need this pushing to get back to work, I fail to understand for I am at my happiest when I am painting or writing. Hopefully action of another kind I'm about to embark on will soon remedy this.

As I'll soon be leaving Brookwood and my lovely work space, and with no guarantee that I'll be lucky enough to get another studio like this in my new home, I'm determined to make the most of my time left here. In an effort to combat this anxiety I have about making work, Anster/Goethe’s and Sol Le Witt’s advice will now be
 fixed to my bedside table and be the last thing I see before sleep, and the first thing I see when I wake. Well, that and my photo of @iantalbot.