Late-bloomers and perfection
Every sketchbook I made has been claimed. Thank you all for your interest!
I believe there are more creatives than we think. More so, I believe those people are unaware they are creatives.
A lot of artists displayed artistic tendencies at a young age. Pablo Picasso even believed, “All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”
On the contrary, I’ve met many children with the sole interest of tackling others to the ground and pounding in their faces. Maybe it’s their upbringing, maybe it’s their personality–I don’t know.
My point is, I believe some people naturally create things while others have to make a decision to discipline themselves to create things.
Depending on the day, I feel like a natural–things flow from my head and into something tangible with little effort. Then, there are times I don’t want to think at all–I just want to cry. I hate what I’ve created and pack it away until I can emotionally face my failure.
A few days ago, I read about an artist who does not finish a painting until he absolutely hates it and cannot stand to touch it anymore. The same day, I read about a separate artist who knows her work is complete when she senses this unexplainable feeling in a single brush stroke.
Both artists “know” differently, neither of them are wrong. Whichever you identify with is what’s right for you, and that’s why there’s so much differentiation in the art world.
In this, I feel deeply for those artistic “late-bloomers”. The ones who grow up without a creative foundation and suddenly want to put ink to paper, fingers to clay, paint to canvas–whatever. These people may be absolute naturals, and others may love it so much they discipline themselves to create daily.
Depending on the day, I may feel like a natural or a disciplined artist. However I relate, I encounter fear. More specifically, the fear of paper–blank paper. The intimidation is enough to drive me away from my creative desires because my humanity is afraid to be imperfect.
Once, I read about a teacher who poured coffee on her students’ sketchbooks. She stained unmarked paper and had them begin again. I’ve tried it, and I felt freedom from the belief that I needed to be without error.
So when Izzy gave me a stack of yellow, moldy smelling encyclopedias from the 50s, I knew it was the perfect material to use for a sketchbook. The next step was making sketchbook minis small enough to tuck into my back pocket.
For Christmas, I want to send some mini journals out into the world. I want to inspire people to step outside of any belief of what they can’t do, and encourage them to just…doodle something.
If you’re interested, please leave a comment (be sure to fill in your email address), and I will email you details. Keep in mind–three sketchbooks per person and I can only ship in the US.
They are absolutely free, so take into consideration the people around you who may need an artistic nudge.