The more I explore my directions in art, and my stuck around being seen, the more I realize that I’ve effectively creatively muzzled myself the past 2 years.

My Artistic Direction: The Beginning

Just under three years ago, I was painting my little behind off. I’d finally decided that art was going to be my career of choice and I needed pieces to put on my first solo show. It was during that time that I painted Lonely:Old Age, Lake Windermere I and Lake Windermere II, and several others that I’m still incredibly happy with. I was so inspired.

My work was good. It was developing well. I felt like I had direction, focus, purpose. I was filled with a sense of possibility. Then everything slowed down.

The “M” Word

Yep, that’s the one. Marketing.

I discovered it. Or rather, I was informed that I needed to start thinking about it. I was told that marketing was about creating a story, telling a story, a story about you. That the only way people bought anything was if it made them happy, and so I had to paint happy paintings.

Nothing negative could ever enter my marketing materials. No sad thought, no health issue, no dark stories or dark subject matter. Happiness, everywhere, all the time.

I shouldn’t be painting such stormy skies. Where were the blue ones? I shouldn’t tell people why I actually painted something. I should lie about it, make up a happier meaning. No one wanted anything dark, or twisted, or stormy.

Only flowers and sunshine.

Then – then I got stuck.

More marketing

About a year later, I did some marketing coaching, paid a large amount of money for it. Was again told that happiness was the only thig you could have. I got more stuck.

But then there was the other side of the coin – conceptual art. All of the contemporary art magazines I was subscribed to talked about the edginess of conceptual art, and it’s political and social commentary. Well, my work was nothing like that either. I wasn’t that intellectual about describing my work, I didn’t want to comment on the downfalls of society and I didn’t care a whit about politics.

I got more stuck. Where is my box? Where do I fit in? Where am I supposed to be?

Fast Forward A Year Later

I’m more stuck than ever before. I can’t seem to create anything because everything that I create feels like it’s going to be wrong – it’s not edgy enough, or it’s too bloody depressing. I’m just stuck. And miserable, because I’m barely painting at all and can’t seem to finish a damn thing. Everything that I do is awful, uninspired – a mess.

This morning, I finally realized why that’s been happening. I’ve been trying to be everything to everybody. I’ve been trying to make the part of me that thinks I’ll only have value if I’m some contemporary artist happy, and trying to make the voice of the marketer who bans all sad things happy too. I’ve never tried to make me happy.

My paintings were too dark for marketing, and too happy for New York galleries and contemporary art magazines. I stopped painting for me. I started painting for a mould.

No more.

I’m really tired of it, and as of today, I’m stopping. If I want to paint big, I’m going to paint big. If people can’t afford it, then fine, they can’t afford it. If I want to paint portraits, I’m going to paint portraits. If that’s not consired edgy enough, or it’s pandering to rich people, then fine, I’m pandering to rich people.

I will paint stormy skies, and dark seas, and I absolutely outright refuse to start painting ducks and puppies. My work is not all happy happy and it never will be. But I also don’t get excited about over intellectualized work either – there are no theories behind my paintings. I paint because I love it. I paint because I love emotion. I’m only interested in powerful emotions. End of story.

So for the first time in over 2 years, I’m going to start painting exactly what I want to, with no regrets. I’m really going to start painting just for me. It also means I’m going to run my business exactly the way I want to as well. Again, no more forcing myself into the happy marketing mould.

It feels good. It feels a little bit more free.