ABSENCE

BP-image16.jpg

We have heard it said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. When we’ve been away from our beloved for a period of time our feelings of longing only grow and we can’t wait to be reunited. Anticipation grows with each passing day as we imagine how it will feel to be in the arms of the person we love.

All artists have a unique relationship with the process of making their art and need to find just the right rhythm of focus and discipline to advance their work. This requires consistency of practise and an awareness of their personal sensitivity – what best supports them in their art-making.

Some artists thrive by spending long, uninterrupted hours in their studio. This affords them the opportunity to connect deeply with their process, materials and ideas. Other artists find that after a few hours in the studio they lose focus and energy for their work, so little and often helps them to be more productive during their studio sessions. Knowing our creative cycles and how to best set up our studio schedule to align with them is really important for any artist. 

But the common understanding that all artists have is that consistent, regular visitation with their art practice allows for development in their work. Discipline is needed whenever we want to improve our techniques and skills and our emotional engagement is deepened as well. While this is the ideal we strive for, it’s not always available to us.

There are many reasons artists are not able to have consistency in their art practice – health issues, work commitments, family needs and many other real life occurrences can interrupt our studio practice and our regularity is broken. 

For many artists I work with, this break from their art practice generates a lot of internal struggle. During these breaks they begin to feel like they’re losing ground in their work and begin to doubt themselves, even questioning their validity as artists. Their mindset, which may have been healthy and supportive of their process, moves towards a fear-based mindset instead. Where they once were strong, they are now feeling insecure and unnecessarily vulnerable to feelings of Imposter Syndrome. These feelings can loop on themselves and become insurmountable obstacles causing some artists to abandon their work for very long periods of time, and sometimes altogether. 

As an artist who has had to take breaks from my art practice due to life and work demands, I have had to face this very real challenge myself. I would respond with internal anguish and condemnation. Fear would grow inside me with it’s paralyzing poison, penetrating every thought I had about making my art. It would build and build the longer I was away from my art-making and any attempt to return became an insurmountable possibility. The resistance that is inherent in the creative process was now magnified and unmanageable. Finding a path back seemed impossible and I’d rather avoid that discomfort despite how much I wanted to make my art. 

It was only when I began to really work with my mindset that I discovered the clues to how to circumvent the build-up of energetic resistance to making my art during these long breaks from my studio practice. In the past my thoughts about the absence from my work were feeding a place of insecurity within me – the fear that I may not actually be an artist if I wasn’t making my art. 

I started to shift my thinking and reframed these thoughts and feelings about the absence. I leaned into this place of longing and decided it was a good thing to be feeling. Much like the absence of a lover, the time apart from my work strengthens the heart’s connection. As the anticipation of reuniting with it loomed, our time together occupied my thoughts and I felt connection, desire and love – not one ounce of space for fear. 

Just like we might do when we’re missing someone so dear, I’d revisit images of my work, look at lots of other art – art that inspired me and increased my desire for my own. I’d spend time writing love notes to my art in my sketchbook journal – dreaming of painting, planning our time together again. 

When the day came when I was able to finally return to my art-making I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. I recognized that just like reuniting with someone we haven’t seen for awhile there would be an awkward period of familiarization as we became reacquainted. I learned to trust this space and even find ways to settle back in and catch up. 

I used primer-type exercises that would help me connect back with my art-making without the pressure of having to work on studio work that was awaiting completion or needed to be started. I approached my re-entry to the studio with reverence and respect, giving myself the space I needed to find my footing again, all the while noticing my thoughts and not allowing any negativity to take hold. I’d offer myself a supportive, encouraging space to begin again.

And it worked. What was once a painful, torturous process that would begin in my mind during the break and then stand in the way of the reconnection when it was finally available to me, was now more fluid and welcoming. The absence had made my heart grow stronger and I felt such a strong need to make my art. It was as if my creativity had been pent up and I needed to unleash it again. My beloved and I were reunited once again.