Abstract art making and attuning to intuition

My comfort in formative art lies in the comfort I feel knowing I’m capable of replicating an object or image realistically. I know that once I choose a subject, I’ll be able to render it sufficiently. Abstract art removes that crutch entirely. In the past I’ve approached abstract art by replicating other abstract art— basically doing the same thing I do with representational art, applying it to abstract art that I enjoy as a viewer. But that’s not my art. In order to make my abstract art, I would have to stop looking outside myself and tap into something inside myself and that, folks, is uncomfy. I’m not great at listening to my intuition. I’d rather take a course, or hire a coach, or follow some kind of template, or, or— instead of quieting all the outside influences and seeing what oozes out of my own intuitive creativity. 

There’s also a guarantee of “goodness” in my representational work. Because I know I’m able to render things realistically, I know that it will turn out “good” or at least good enough to not trigger fear or anxiety. In my representational work I avoid the pain of creating “bad art” to a certain degree. Which isn’t to say that everything I’ve made that is representational and realistic is good art, far from it. But at least the badness about it can at least partially be looked over by the fact that it looks alright from a realism standpoint.

I was painting over this orange monstrosity earlier today, and Dan came over and watched me for a moment before I lamented to him about how abstract art feels so unnatural to me. And maybe that’s true, maybe I’m really not an abstract artist. But he reminded me that I’m new at creating abstract work and that I should expect to be amazing at it first try (how dare he. I must be amazing at all things first try, doesn’t he know?!?).

I was on the verge of completely giving up on the piece, and I may still paint over it completely and start over, but I think I might still try to push into doing abstract work. The above screenshot from my IG story yesterday mentions bringing in typographic elements, and I think I might attempt some mixed media elements. I really l love postmodern and pop art and have since college, and 90% of the art I have hanging in my house is typographic. Maybe it’s the writer side of me elbowing my way in, or the printmaker, but I really really love typography elements in fine art.

So. Here I am. Just a girl, standing in front of a canvas, asking abstract art to come out of my brain and onto the canvas.

DIY Disco Mirror Jr.

Look who made another disco mirror after saying she was never going to do it again looooooool. This one was for a good cause though, and if there was ever going to be a reason for me to make another disco mirror, DIY for a Cure is the reason. Every year DIY for a Cure puts on a week of DIY devoted to raising money for childhood cancer research with the goal of reaching $100,000. They host a ton of raffles to win amazing items from brands and anyone can participate as a DIYer by offering up something to raffle off. You see where I’m going with this? Yup, I got down to business glueing tiny 5mm mirrors once again, this time with the goal of raising $1000 for DIY for a Cure.

I made this one slightly different than my full length mirror version I finished in February. I intentionally made that one to be more like melted disco balls and so I used spray foam to create the forms. For this one, I wanted it to be more like half-disco balls all joined together, so the base for this one is styrofoam spheres I grabbed at Michaels. I joined them together using spray foam that I carved so that each ball seamlessly blended into its neighbors.

Knowing that this mirror was going to be sent to someone else, I was also much more intentional about making sure it was finished really professionally. I covered the mirror with paper while I worked so the surface of the mirror didn’t get scratched while I’m working (unfortunately my big mirror is covered in scratches from working on it uncovered for months). I also spray painted the balls silver before putting the mirrors on so any blank spots would be silver (TBH I could probably have skipped this— using 5mm mirrors the coverage is pretty solid, but had I been using 10mm mirrors I think there would probably be more visible gaps).

Anyway, I’m so so thrilled with how this one turned out and I’m a little sad to have to send it off, but I’m also thrilled that someone else will get these sparkle disco vibes in their life!

There’s one more day left to enter to win this mirror! A $50 donation to my DIY for a Cure page gets you entered to win! Just donate, screenshot your donation and DM it to me, and you’re entered to win! The raffle entries close at 6pm Pacific on Sunday Oct 8th, 2023.

A flailing butterfly

Outfit photos? Who is she? Is this 2013? Not to worry, you’re not caught in some time vortex, thought I feel like after the last three years going back to 2013 might be idyllic.

Anyway, I was out taking photos of my newly finished Disco Mirror and I had on a cute look to show off the mirror, and figured I’d throw in some outfit pic and try to get some new headshots. These pants are my absolute favorite pants. I’d wanted them for at least a year, but they were out of stock, and when I finally saw they were in stock I jumped at the chance to grab them. At $108 they’re definitely a splurge for me (almost all my clothes are thrifted, so it doesn’t take too much for something to be considered a splurge, lol), but I’m willing to shell out more when it’s a special item, well made, and something I know for certain I’ll wear constantly. The idea of cost-per-wear is something I used to think about a lot back in my fashion blogger days, which is basically just the idea of dividing the cost of the item by the number of times you wear it, so if something is more expensive, but you wear it a ton, then the cost-per-wear of the item goes down.

My style has really been hard to nail down since I had Jack, which now is almost 7 years ago (whoa). I used to be such a vintage fashion girlie, then more boho, but I’ve had such a hard time finding my style since becoming a mom. In the past six months I’ve felt like I’ve finally dialed in a style that feels really me. In a way, it’s just dressing in a way that my teenage self would look at me and think, “Damn, she’s cool as fuck.”

Top: Target // Pants: P&Co // Boots: Amazon // Necklace: Amazon // Jacket: Thrifted + customized

After my two month break from social media, I’ve felt a little like a flailing, newly emerged butterfly. I was so adept at my caterpillar life as a DIY content creator. I knew how to do things well, I got great feedback from the algorithm that my content was getting good reach, I was working with brands… and then I hit burnout and things started feeling weird. So I went in to my cocoon over the summer and it was lovely and rejuvenating… but what emerged at the end was startling and unrecognizable. I didn’t want to do DIY content creation anymore. I didn’t even like the moniker “content creator.” Over the summer I’d rediscovered my artist self, and she was begging to be given space in my life.

As I thought and journaled about it, I realized that my DIY content creator self was created in the aftermath of having Jack and feeling completely and totally untethered in the storm of new motherhood. I was straight up not having a good time, postpartum depression was taking its toll, and I just desperately needed something that was totally and completely mine. Something I could do that felt productive and creative. A place I could pour myself into and find myself again.

And I did! But along the way I also created this platform that was wholly devoted to DIY. I’d marketed myself as a DIYer for over half a decade. I’d built up something that wasn’t going to serve me as I moved forward into a more holistic expression of myself.

And don’t get me wrong, I love DIY. I have been a DIY girlie my whole life and will continue to be a DIY girlie. But the DIY girl is also an artist and has been since I could hold a damn crayon. In 4th grade we had watercolor paintings of the northern lights that our class made hung in the hall, and some lady wanted to buy mine. In 6th grade my teacher dubbed me the “poetry queen”. I went to college and got my art degree. And over the years I’ve made a life for myself where I’ve been able to be creative on a daily basis and I’m really really proud of me for doing that.

But the one thing I haven’t done is give myself the space to create art. I create a lot of stuff. I make rooms, I paint murals, I make disco mirrors, I design merch, I build furniture, I design my website— all of that stuff is sort of in service of something else. I want to make art that I can hang in a gallery. I want to write books. And I know that it’s not like what I’m currently doing isn’t art, but there’s a difference in my mind, you know? Maybe it’s the difference between “fine art” and practical art. If there is such a difference.

Either way, that’s where I’m at. A flailing butterfly who hasn’t quite figured out how wings work, but feeling less scared about this new body and way of moving through the world.

Adolescent Dreams

My 2023 word of the year that I chose was Ease. Hilariously I got hit with such intense burnout that I was basically forced to take two months off this summer. Forced ease is still ease I guess. But one of the unexpected things that has come up in the past year is that I’ve allowed myself to like the things I liked as a kid and teen. I don’t think I ever thought those things were bad or dumb, but you know… you move on, you get different interests, find new friends and new communities, and along with that there’s a sort of falling away of the things that felt cool or magical as an adolescent.

One of my huge pleasures this year has been realizing that I can be a person that young me would’ve thought is SO cool. I can be the person I would’ve looked up to or idolized. I spent a lot of years in religion trying to be a certain type of person (righteous, pure, disciplined, worthy, etc). But now I can be who and whatever I want to be, and little whispers from smol Liz have been trickling in from the 90’s/00’s and it’s felt so wonderful to listen to them and run with it.

When I was in second grade a girl in my school published a book and I wanted to do that. It burned inside me. But I think I thought it was too lofty a goal or something and it got buried. I’ve been in contact with a publisher since about 2015 about publishing a book but it’s never happened. And the reason is that I don’t want to publish the book they seem to want from me. Something self-help-y or to do with my platform niche. I keep self sabotaging because deep down I don’t want to write that.

So here I am, 30 years later picking up a goal I set down. Writing. Publishing. And this time I’m bigger and I know what I’m capable of.

Waking up

This past week has been a weird flailing dash towards the finish line of summer. I haven’t been writing much, I decided to change some details of my MMC which felt like something I needed to do to move forward with writing, and I think it’ll eliminate some issues with motive and clean up the plot a little. So instead of making progress I’ve been editing.

Ugh. I promised myself I wasn’t going to edit anything until my SFD (shitty first draft) was done, but in order to move the plot forward I want to button up a couple details so that things make sense. Interestingly, I’m not losing word count or even staying the same, I’m gaining word count, so that’s nice. Even though I’m swapping out details, they seem to be more fleshed out. Or something. I’m not sure, I’m a book writing newb so maybe I’m really fucking shit up. Fingers crossed I’m not though.

Either way, I do not want to get caught in an editing eddy, swirling around endlessly in story that’s already been written to avoid pushing the story forward. I’ve also been feeling a bit of anxiety about going back online after two whole months away. It felt good though. Good enough that I was like… maybe I’ll fuck around and #pivotabitch and come back as maaaybe not quite a DIYer anymore. I mean ya girl will always be a DIYer, it’s in my blood. But I’m, well, de-niche-ing. I don’t think I meant to niche down in the DIY world so hard, but I loved it and I was good at it so it felt good to do. Especially as a new mom who was STRUGGLIN to find herself in the postpartum hellscape. DIY helped me feel powerful. Gave me something purely my own to pursue. And it was a place I’ve always felt pretty confident, and I felt very much not confident in every other area of my life. DIY was a port in a raging storm.

But I let my artist hibernate. She came out to play sometimes, in service of DIY, but never to create art for art’s sake. And I’m waking her up now. Hibernation season is over.