Muddling Through: Perseverance in Art-making

The Good Old Days – One Of My First Prints

Well. I’ve smacked into a metaphorical wall.

For two years I have been flowing happily along, thrilled with carving and printing.

In the print of Mount Robson shown above – one of my first – I was so charmed by the process that I embraced and loved all of the little inconsistencies.

Sure, as I continued there were little signs of trouble – that oily halo on that one series of prints, or that top layer of ink that never seemed to fully dry. But mostly I ignored these things and eagerly moved on to each new print.

Testing Charbonnel and Akua Inks on Three Paper Types

Now that I’m considering opening an Etsy shop, I’m suddenly experiencing a strong desire to figure out the technicalities. If I’m selling a print, I need to be as confident in its structural qualities as I am in the image itself.

This is a good thing!

It does feel a little bumpy, though. I’ve left the euphoric delirium of new love and arrived at the place where it feels a little like work. And like any relationship, this one is unique and requires experimentation to successfully navigate. What has worked for others may or may not work for me, so I will need to do some first-hand research.

Testing, Testing – Oh Deer!

Right now, there are a number of tests happening and planned in my studio. For one single-colour print (the deer skull shown), I’m trying (on Stonehenge paper):

• Akua Intaglio Mars Black
• Akua Intaglio Carbon Black
• Daniel Smith Water Soluble Lamp Black
• Caligo Safe Wash Relief Ink in Black
• Akua Intaglio Carbon Black with Akua Mag Mix
• Akua Intaglio Carbon Black with Kama Cobalt-Zirconium Dryer

To be honest, this experimentation is not my favourite thing. I would rather just get on with drawing and carving something new. But I’m in it for the long run. I can’t run away or ignore the bits that aren’t working. Now is the time to fight and persevere and muddle forward.

“The best way out is always through” – Robert Frost

Sweet Succulent Linocut Print

Yesterday was a fantastic day in the studio. I’m still waiting for the ink to dry on my big mountain print, but I completed a run of these sweet little cacti. The print below was created using the reduction, or suicide, method of printmaking. Read on to learn more!

Sweet Succulent Hand-pulled Linocut Print

It starts with a little drawing I’d made of a cute cactus plant on my windowsill. I make a tracing of it, and decide to try the reduction method to create the print. What’s that?

Normally, I carve a different block for each colour of a print. In the reduction method, you re-use the same block for every colour. You first carve away only the parts that will stay white, then print your lightest colour. Then using the same block, you carve away the parts that will stay the lightest colour, then print the next colour, and so on. It’s called the “suicide” method because you can’t go back – once you’re done, your block is destroyed.

Here are some initial colour tests, and the first layer of pale green on the lower right. My fingers are crossed that everything lines up next time!

Drawing, tracing and first layer of the linocut print

Next, I carve away all the parts I want to stay light green. I then choose to print the terra cotta colour of the pot – so I ink up only the bottom part of the block, and print overtop of the green.

Second layer of the print

Next, I decide the pot needs a bit more shading. I carve away the edges of the pot where the sun is casting some light, and print a deeper shade for the shadowed side of the pot. So far, everything seems to be lining up!

Second layer of the terracotta pot

Now, I carve away the entire terracotta pot, until all I’m left with is the dark green stripes of the leaves. Holding my breath, I ink up the block, line up my paper one more time, and hope that everything lines up…

And it does! Success! And what a sweet little print at 5 x 7″. Hooray!

(And, I clearly need a scanner, so I don’t have to rely on my phone to take these photos.)

Sweet Succulent: The final print

The print was made using Akua Intaglio inks (transparent base, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue, hansa yellow and a little phthalo blue) and printed on Stonehenge 100% cotton paper.

Thank you for reading!

Too Tired to Make Art?

How to be gentle but firm with yourself

Cameron Pass (5×7 Relief Print)

Last night I came home after work and found myself too tired to make art. I flopped down on my bed and lay there for an hour, staring glazed-eyed into Twitter and wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn’t make myself go into the studio.

Reading art blogs, it’s easy to get the idea that other artists are brimming with constant creativity and are whistling while they work long into the night. When I’m in a bit of a slump, I compare myself to their online personas, and start to worry that if I don’t play cruel taskmaster to myself, I will get lazy and unmotivated stop making art altogether.

Here’s how I tackled this beastly sequence of thoughts:

First, I was gentle. I acknowledged that I have some good reasons for being tired (two additional hours of exercise each day, a recently completed commission for the largest print I’ve made to date, recent technical challenges with some prints).

Then, I was firm. I reasoned that, despite being tired, I could take a small step in service of creativity. I stepped into the studio and committed to just staying there and keeping busy – anything qualified, as long as I could honestly say it would keep my art moving forward. I ended up using the time for administrative tasks – signing prints and cleaning, readying the studio for another burst of creative inspiration.

Finally, I was gentle again. I accepted that this was “enough work” for the day (this was the hardest part) and reminded myself that life and art is neither a marathon nor a sprint, but both, replete with injuries and triumphs and all of the other ups and downs inherent in any worthwhile endeavour.

The gentle-firm-gentle sandwich – it worked for me, and tasty, too. Maybe it can work for you!

Wishing you happiness in all your worthwhile endeavours.

Sophie

What kind of influence do you need today?

If you are an artist, how do you respond when looking at the work of someone whose work you admire and whose technical ability far surpasses your own, compared to someone whose skill is just beyond your grasp?

Siemen Dijkstra, Dwingelder Es Winter

In my case, it changes with the day, and seems to depend a lot on my current level of confidence.

If I’m feeling inspired and full of ideas, I find it helpful to look at work from the artists that I consider stars – those that are at the top of their game. Looking at their work helps push me to a new level. When I’m in a positive state of mind, I don’t fall into the temptation of comparing my work to theirs. I just admire, feel the thrill of seeing excellence in action, and go back to my own efforts a little more invigorated.

On the other hand, if I’m feeling a bit sad for myself, looking to the brightest stars turns into an ugly comparison game that I will never win. On those days, I need to look at art that I find more accessible. If I can imagine having a conversation with the artist, and if I can imagine how they created their work, I feel like I’m connecting with an encouraging friend. Their work acts as a soothing balm that reassures me enough to keep going.

Another trick that works, on the bad days, is to look at work that I admire which is vastly different from what I would like to achieve, and maybe in a different medium, like the tapestry-like oil painting by Caroline Larsen below. I can appreciate their skill without a trace of self-doubt.

Caroline Larsen, Red Sky

All of these types of influences inspire my creative process, and I am thankful for the huge scope of artists working today. By keying into my mood, I can opt to look at the kind of work that moves my own art forward.

Here are some examples of what I mean:

I owe much to Linda Cote. Her approach to art seems so gentle and encouraging, and she is so generous in sharing her processes on her blog. I would love to visit her studio one day for tea and a conversation about her process.

Linda Cote, Magpie Spring

I love and admire the work of Yoshiko Yamamoto too. Her skill and compositions are wonderful, and yet still at the edge of accessibility.

Yoshiko Yamamoto, Kayaking at Glacier Bay

Then there are Sherrie York, Siemen Dijkstra and Jennifer Worsley. These are among my stars. Their work is so strikingly beautiful that it takes my breath away. They inspire me the way Mark Knopfler or Jimi Hendrix inspire beginning guitar players – a mix of wonder, awe, jealousy and “how did they do that?!”

Sherrie York, Shower with a Friend

Siemen Dijkstra, Three Trees

Jennifer Worsley, Early Summer Morning

We are so fortunate to live in a world where we can easily see one another’s creations, and each one adds to someone else’s life.