Tag Archives: Series: Art Fears

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I have an art school monster. It lives in my head. It feeds on my fears and starts nasty little rumours.


Image by autumn_bliss, used under Creative Commons license

Maybe my monster was there before art school, a cute little baby monster perhaps? But art school gave it shape and helped it grow. Art school gave it the words to wound me.

I had a great and challenging time at art school. I learnt a lot and grew immensely. I met amazing people, had fantastic experiences, drank a huge amount of tea and worked extremely hard.

I wouldn’t give up that time for anything - but it did leave behind a few scars and a monster. And boy is it hard to create when you have a whispering monster taking up space in your studio!

Right now my monster is telling me that creating with fabric is a stupid thing to do. A girly thing. An embarrassing thing. Even though I love fabric, fibre and thread and adore the work that other artists make with it, my monster says that people will think I’m rubbish if I use it. Not serious enough, not clever enough, not arty enough.

Real contemporary artists shouldn’t use textiles according to my art school monster.

This is all nonsense, of course. Many wonderful artists use textiles. No one says boo to Louise Bourgeois or Ann Hamilton when they use fabric. One of my fellow students happily used felt all through her final year and as far as I recall no one said squat about it. Heck, she even got a couple of grants to go to a felt conference somewhere wacky like Uzbekistan and we all thoroughly enjoyed the presentation she gave when she returned. I sometimes used fabric when I was at art school and no one gave me a hard time about it either.

So where on earth does my monster get these crazy ideas?

I’ve been trying to take a leaf out of the wonderful Havi’s book and speak kindly to my monster. I tell it that I understand that it’s just trying to protect me from criticism and harm. But honestly, I think my monster is just a frightful snob and I wish it would take its stupid opinions and shove them!


Image by herlitz-monster-talent, used under Creative Commons license

I'd love to hear about your monsters in the comments...

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Many artists approach the world from a place of fear.

'Am I good enough? What if no one likes my work? Why can't I sell? I'm rubbish, aren't I! If I've not made it by the time I'm 30, I'm never going to. Picasso worked really hard every single day, what the hell's wrong with me? If I don't have lots of shows every year, they'll all forget about me.'

And so on and so forth...


Photo by Alex E. Proimos, used under a Creative Commons license

I've been actively trying to get away from that angst-ridden headspace in recent months. But taking a step back from those ingrained fears feels like stepping off a mountain path in the dark. I don't know if I'll fall. Maybe there will be soft mossy grass under my feet or bouncy heather? Or maybe there's a 50ft drop!

My own first lesson in letting go of these Art Fears is to ignore the temptation to desperately apply for exhibitions in 2010. While applying for exhibitions can certainly be useful and necessary, I'm tired of it. If applying for exhibitions works for you, that's great. It used to work for me too. However, right now it makes me feel sad, pitiful, powerless and often quite angry. It makes me feel like a beggar outside the temple of art and I'm DONE feeling like that.

Naturally, if things come knocking on my door, I'll certainly consider them. I do still want exhibitions and other cool opportunities. Nor am I sticking my head in the sand: I'm still visible and active both off and online and I wouldn't rule out applying for something if it was perfect for me. But I've stopped pushing constantly. It's a difference in attitude.

Somewhat to my surprise, this new approach seems to be working, I've been offered several great opportunities lately including the ECCA talk in London last month and I'm taking part in this exhibition later this month. Yet it's still scary as hell to stop pushing. I want to believe that the Universe will catch me, that I'll be OK without all that frantic busyness but believing that goes against a lifetime of conditioning.

What are your Art Fears? Can you trust yourself enough to walk away from them? Can you step off a mountain with me? We could hold hands and jump...


Photo by danorbit, used under a Creative Commons license