Answer these Questions: Find your Path as an Artist

A disclosure – this list of questions to ponder was adapted from one written by my psychologist friend and colleague Dr. Cynthia Herbert about observing children  -- part of our  NEW WORLD KIDS book. We adults need to make and reflect on the same observations about ourselves in order to find our paths as artists, to locate our visual poetry and sweet spots. Of course, what we're saying in the book is that as great a thing it is for adults to discover their passions and paths at age 30, 40, 50 or older, wouldn't it be great if we helped kids find, respect, analyze and deepen their strong suits at age 14, or even 4? It can happen!

Feel free to copy and paste this list or go to my public file to find a downloadable pdf file here.

One-on-one.
One-of-a-kind.
Each of us is absolutely unrepeatable.

How do you look at yourself with new eyes, outside of the daily get-dones and to-dos? It helps to have a certain distance, an anthropologist’s viewpoint even. Step beyond judgment (this is good stuff; this is bad) into a position of value-free observation. It often helps to use comparative information--sometimes it’s easiest to see your own unique combo plate, when its sitting on the table next to someone else’s menu choices.

Here’s a checklist to help you observe, collect and compare. Start with observation. Ask a friend or colleague to use a camera to catch your typical actions and behaviors, or just reflect and write. Or try setting up some self-portraits that capture the real you. Answer the questions from your present life AND from memories of what you were like as a child. Are there parts of the “real you” that have faded from sight? Been dampened by circumstance or age?

How do I sound? What’s my voice like? Do I hear clumping or tiptoeing or trotting through space? Do I have soft or strong sound qualities? Am I talking fast or mulling things over before I speaks? Am I a story always in the telling, or a dramatic announcer of all things important?

How do I move? Am I a whirlwind at the center of any activity or a slow observer who has to watch before jumping in? Do I have wings on his feet and a kinesthetic grasp of each and every movement through space? Or not? Do I have a facility with hand-eye coordination, or am I a person whose favorite exercise is mental gymnastics? Do I fidget and wiggle my way through the day, daintily twirl at every opportunity, or cut through space with conviction, ignoring obstacles and rules at every turn?

What is my rhythm? If I clapped a rhythmic score, would it be regular and evenly paced? Or erratic and unpredictable? Would I be a march or a tango? A jive or a three-ring circus? Am I fast, slow, somewhere in between? Surprising or forthright?

How do I use my face and eyes? Am I an open book? Or a mysterious stranger who seldom lets my emotions show? Is drama the operative word? Or is methodical my method? What happens when I meet a stranger? Am I out there or on the sidelines keeping score?

How do I present a public face? Is it different from the private life behind my front door? How do others respond to me?

What kind of roles and functions do I take on? Alpha dog? Follower? Listener? Starring role? Backstage director? Conformist? Devil’s Advocate?

What makes me laugh? What makes me funny? Where’s my funny bone?

What brings me joy? What is sure to bring a smile to my face?

What questions do I ask over and over and over again? Am I a “What?” or a “Why?” a “How do I?” or a “What if I?”

What makes my different than anyone else’s? One-of-a-kind?

Another way to collect information about yourself is to note preferences – the things you collect, choose, concentrate your efforts on. Here’s a second checklist of observations and inventories to make.

What catches my eye? Movement? Color? Light and shadow? Strong patterns? Interesting shapes? Or is it all about touch? Or movement? Or telling the story?

What holds my attention? What things do I do for longer than other people seem to do them? Music? Putting things together? Routine chores or tasks with repeating actions? Puzzles and brainteasers? Walking or running or other movements?

What do I surround myself with? The choices of clothing, of possessions for my home, for regular activities? Is it other people? Color? Music? Animals? Things to build with? Stuff that moves?

What qualities do my favorite free-time activities have? Are they all big or small movement activities? Do they have procedures or linear rules? Do I see strong sensuous qualities, tactile elements or sound and motion? How about emotional or analytic components?

What do I collect, naturally? What gets picked up on the street, from a dollar store? Rocks and shells? Magazines, bugs, or little glittery bits of foil and glass? If I could make a collection of anything, would it be hats or robots, ribbons or sports equipment? Do I find and save magazine pictures, maps or cartoons? Character dolls or jokes? Stacks of fabric and threads or antique lace?

What kinds of things -- especially in a new place or space – am I most likely to comment about or remember? The people or the colors? The sound or the story? The size or the materials? The construction and engineering or the aesthetics and theatrical sense?

What do I pick up? Save? Store? Look up on the internet or follow up from a TV or radio show?

What are the qualities of the materials I like best? Track these favorites through the sensory alphabet! (Line, color, shape, movement, space, texture, light, sound, rhythm)

COLOR: Are these materials colorful or monochromatic? What kinds of colors? Bright or subtle? Dark or bright? Contrasting or soothing? You may HAVE to have that new box of watercolors or oil pastels, while another person just needs a big black permanent marker or a Chinese calligraphy brush and ink.

TEXTURE: How do the materials you like feel to the touch? Are they smooth or nubby, plastic or hard, malleable or rigid, natural or manmade? Is that collection of glass jars on your window a textural necessity or a set of shapes to arrange with little hidden dramas in your mind?

SHAPE: Do these materials – clothes, games, collectables, art media, favorite objects -- have definite shapes? Or are they ambiguous or amorphous? Are they simple in contour or intricate? Do they have structural parts or components? Is a morning in one museum gallery or a day in the sand at the beach the ultimate entertainment?

MOVEMENT: Do my favorite materials move? Or have movement implicit in them? Is there a rhythm to them or to their use? Is the movement smooth, fast or floating? Humorous, serious or unstable? Do I simply have to move no matter what or where?

SOUND: Do these favorites make sounds? Either by design or by my use? What kind of sound quality – musical or percussive, wind or string, whistling or thudding? Is there a definite rhythm to the sound produced? Do I make sounds with things that no one else would ever think to turn into an instrument?

RHYTHM: Are these materials stacked, stackable or patterned? Put in order or grouped? Repeated or reorganized over and over? Put away in categories or lumped together any old way? Is there a rhythm to her play, a beginning, middle and end? Does patterned work or games with words or rhymes have a particular charm?

LINE: Do these favorite materials have a linear quality? Are they curved or angular? Strongly directional, repetitive or meandering? Is there always a storyline going on, a movie in the mind?

LIGHT: Is this material one that has qualities of light, dark, opacity, transperancy? Do I like to play with light and shadow?


SPACE: What spatial qualities do the materials have? Are these favorite materials two-dimensional or three-dimensional (ie, given a choice do I choose clay or paper-and-pen?) What’s the scale I like best to work with – a desktop or a playing field, tiny miniatures or large brushes and a 6-ft tall roll of paper? A wall-sized quilt or multiples of mini artist trading cards?

OTHER ASPECTS:
What spaces and places do I prefer for my free time? Am I always on the porch or in my bedroom or other private space? Alone in the backyard or in the kitchen with everyone else? Do I need a run in the park to stay healthy and sane? Is time alone essential? Or is time spent with a group mandatory and energizing? Am I always planning parties or trying to avoid them?

When we interact, is it playful or serious? Directive? Organized? Improvisational?

When we work together on a task, do I stay on track or need to come and go? Do I need a process or a product? Do I have to know why, or why not? Where’s the payoff?

When we play, do I want to be the boss of you? Or want to watch and follow? Am I open to coaching or resistant to change? Do I worry about getting it “right”? Am I making up new rules as we go along? Or sticking to a strategy?

Art Cloth Before and After

Jane Dunnewold, who as anyone who reads me regularly knows is a mentor, friend and shining beacon in my life, has published a new blog as the venue for an art cloth challenge she issued last year. From a pool of "applicants" she chose a group of us to develop a piece of art cloth from a two-yard challenge piece that she sent-- all identically dyed with mixing blue with a series of small bound-resist circles down the middle of the length.The site is at: Art Cloth Challenge 2008 <http://artclothchallenge.blogspot.com/>

Now the results are in and up on-line at site. Scroll down near the end to find out more about the piece I made, after you've taken time to read the others! Warning: this is a return-to site. There's so much to learn about approach, process, the creative journey, the paths that different artists take from the same impulse and materials. I'm still reading and enjoying!

Color Us Fine and Dandy

This weekend's "Field Guide to Color" put us elbow deep in hues and harmonies. Five of us went to the edge with hands-on explorations, more than a little bit of theory, and enough dyeing to keep the inner kindergartener happy indeed.

I'll get a few more pictures to post later from my new studio assistant Laurel Gibson (yeah, Laurel), since I have a major problem taking photos while I am teaching. However, the lovely swatches above should give you an idea of our color box projects.

Meanwhile, here's a sample of one exercise that is really helpful in training the eye to look at color:

1. Tear out a magazine photo or illustration and cut out a 2" square of one hue (color).

2. Try to mix that color using only primary colors (cadmium red, cadmium yellow and a nice medium blue -- throug in a fuschia red for colors that cabn't easily be mixed with a warm red) and white and black. See how close you can come to duplicating the shade, tone or tint. (shade=hue +black, tone=hue+gray or hue+complement, tint=hue plus white.

That's it. But you'll dind it a remarkable challenge and you'll also be surprised I think at how quickly your ability to mix these colors improves. You can also do the same thing with swatches of fabric or paint chips from the home improvement store.

We let them dry, then cut them out and added our paint chips to a handy file box of colors each participant put together -- in addiditon to the beginnings of a dye diary/dictionary. I forget how handy that is until teaching a workshop like this one reminds me of its use.

My next "Field Guide to Color" will be presented as a one-day workshop as part of the Contemporary Handweaver's of Texas conference in San Antonio on Saturday, March 28. My small art quilt, "Pomegranate Cross" will be part of the faculty exhibit for the conference, on display at the Southwest School of Art and Craft March 18-March 28 in the Russell Hill Rogers Lecture Hall at the Navarro Campus. The workshop is open to conference attendees, so if you are interested, please check their website for enrollment information.

For more color fun and games, try a peek at one or more of these color site links:

Color the White House purple or ??? (Shades of Sandra Cisnero's purple house controversy?)

shape+color

This one is a designer's almost daily links to fab color and design sites around the weboverse.

livelygrey

Here's where to find a color blog that has lots of interactive games and posts. Look at the ones on saturation, hue and brightness.

Big Huge Labs

One of severyl sites that generate color schemes from your photos.

Sherwin Williams

The paint company has a cool site that lets you look at ways to find good color schemes for rooms -- and art.

Wet canvas

Good info and online series of lessons.

And finally, on this long, but I hope helpful post, an excerpt from New World Kids; The Parents' Guide to Creative Thinking -- here's a few ideas about color from our book. If you comment on this or any of my posts or my guest posts on other sites at any time this month from Feb. 15 to Feb 28, your name goes into the raffle to win a free copy of the book.

Color
Human vision is distinguished by the color-detecting
ability of our eyes, and so for us color is often the
element of discernment — and the visual language of
emotion. Green with envy, seeing red, walking around
under a black cloud, emotion transforms itself into
colorful characters, colorful language, poetic passion.
Paint on canvas creates sunny weather or an emotional
storm; and music paints a picture solomn or spritely.
Where is your color sense alive? In cooking or
chemistry, stargazing or paint mixing, finding
rainbows, delighting in a feather’s iridescence or
in an outlandishly fashionable fashion sense?

So, where is your color sense alive?

What I do

Flaming Eyebrows, detail art quilt

This post was originally published on Michele Foster's www.quiltinggallery.com. Check out the post and comments there, as well as great guest spots from some wonderful quilters.

Angels, saints, sinners, strange beasts. fire eye-browed women and prickly landscapes step out of the air and into my work. I can’t help it. These odd characters and scenes aren’t predetermined, they just happen. I don’t use patterns, rarely make sketches, refuse to pin, never measure (except at the very end), sometimes I don’t even worry about the back of my quilts and the knots and snarls that bedevil us all whether we admit it or pick them out or not.

Let’s get one thing straight here at the start. Some of you are traditional quilters. You are the backbone of the interest and the audience and most of the quilt store customers and you are skilled! I am not. A quilter really. Nor am I really very good at quilting. But I think I make good art. That happens to be made of fabric. And stitched, and usually three-layered.

I intentionally make contemporary textile paintings (see Lisa Call’s blog for her ideas about that) and they are quilted (free motion) and they are also fused.

Intensely interested in pattern and color and texture, paint just doesn’t work as a medium for my ideas, and, as an artist, it is my path and passion and calling to get my ideas out of my head and into the world in the best available materials. I began sewing at a young age, but the precision required by my home-ec teacher (and that dates me, right) was an unwelcome discipline and an unnerving challenge. So I went into theater and visual arts and then later became an arts and arts-in-ed educator, museum designer, writer and teacher (there’s even a new book for parents and grandparents who want to encourage creative kids, see www.newworldkids.org), but I kept coming back to cloth.

My personal revival came in a surface design course at the Southwest School of Art and Craft in San Antonio (where I now teach in the fibers department) and in a discovery that I could actually learn to paint and pattern and design fabric. Then I had to figure out what to do with the stacks of stuff I was making and I discovered art quilts. Among those who have influenced what I now do: Jane Dunnewold, Sue Benner, Leslie Jenison, Kerr Grabowski, Rayna Gillman, Lisa Call, African textiles, Mexican embroiderers, Guatemalan weavers, limestone layers, the Art Cloth Network, the International Quilt Festival (where I also teach) and lots more.

I told you what I don’t do much of in the first paragraph. What I do do: journal and observe, listen to my dreams, follow my obsessions, pile up cloth and look at the colors together, mull over design elements and sketch, sketch, sketch images, doodles and private marks then turn them into thermofax screens for printing paint and dye, improvise dyed fabric using Kerr’s methods of deconstructed screen printing, iron WonderUnder or Mystifuse to every piece I like, sometimes piece together long rows of 5’ strips and other background fabric, then start cutting with a vague idea of what it is that is speaking to me. Then I free-motion stitch the quilt, possibly even go back and print another layer of imagery on top of it all. Sometimes I mount my work on wooden frames, sometimes it just hangs on the wall.

And yes, someday I really do want to make a bed quilt. But I am terrified of the binding. And the basteing. I read you so that I will have the courage to try someday!

For those who comment here, or on my blog during the rest of the month of February, you’ll be entered into a drawing for a free copy of that book on creativity (it’s even good for grownups who aren’t around kids): New World Kids at www.newworldkids.org

What inspires me?

Inspiration: Fossils

I'm a guest artist over at Bonnie Samuel's blog today. Check out the post over there -- then come back here for a some pictures of what is currently inspiring my work, my studio time, my path on the planet!

Back already? Leave a comment and let me know what's inspiring you, and you'll also be entered into a drawing for Susan's and my book, New World Kids, The Parent's Guide to Creative Thinking.

What I'm listening to:The Beatles Love album, a 2007 remix/remake of classic Beatle tunes that uses the latest in digital production to wonderful effect for all us aging hippies.The remix was done for the Cirque de Soleil performance of the same name. Talk about inspirational!

What I'm watching in the studio: Reruns of House. I love this series and now that we don't have TV, everything I watch is from the library collection. I watch TV in the studio when I'm doing mindless tasks and don't feel the need for silence -- and when I'm doing design work that is going poorly or slowly or not how I expected. Having the audio and visual input seems to give my inner critic something to do so she won't bug me so much.

What I'm reading: I've been obsessed with the fantasy/alternative earth series about Kushiel and Terre d'Ange heroes, heroines and offspring of the Blessed Elua's companions. Just finished the last one though, so I guess I'll have to find another fix for late night bodice-ripping and bondage.

On a more productive bent (except, one never knows how those sexy sensual D'Angelines might show up on a quilt, does one?) I am delighted to be reading and playing around with Lynda Barry's What it is?.

In her NPR interview last summer: The cartoonist, artist, author and teacher says that in her book of full-page color collages, she is trying to tap into the creative, artistic exploration that comes so easily to children.

"Something happens to us as we get a little older," she says. "Adults would never consider [drawing] on a piece of paper and then just throwing it away afterwards. In fact, unless it's valuable afterwards, most adults don't think the experience was worth it. So that's kind of what the book is about. It's about what happens. What happens to that creative urge."

There's another slide show interview with Barry on the NYTimes site here.

What Barry says seems to dovetail with a lot of what we're writing about in New World Kids, but in a different format, and with her own inimitable language and style. Barry has always inspired me with her wit, courage to say just about anything possible in cartoon form and her absolutely original take on media.

We've actually been seeing a lot of movies at the theater lately, and some at home on video too. My top picks: Slumdog Millionaire and The Reader at the cinema, L'Iceberg, at home. Tomorrow we're hosting a food and film potluck and watching an Iranian film called "Border Cafe." (POSTSCRIPT: NOT that wonderful, and not as much to do with food as we'd hoped, but the meal was fab.)

I guess that's it for now -- in addition to the piles of stuff, and the 6000 photos that need sorting, and the work on the table (garments for the Runway show, aurrghe), that's what's inspiring me right now. How about you?

Leave a comment to be entered into the drawing for the book! And let me know if I can add you to my newsletter mailing list -- it's a quarterly publication, pdf format,  and you can "unsubscribe" at any time, of course!

Blogging OnLIne Course from Simpleology

I like this site  -- Simpleology --  and its offerings, and though I haven't taken any of Mark Joyner's classes yet, I enjoy reading what he has to say about life, action and inner and outer peace. In order to win a a free enrollment for a new course on blogging, all you have to do is go to his site, write about it like this, paste some code on your site to get his widget. If you're still thinking about blogging, either as a personal tool, a marketing avenue or a way to record your work and process (I do all three here), check out Mark's work and see if it fits your needs.

I'm evaluating a multi-media course on blogging from the folks at Simpleology. For a while, they're letting you snag it for free if you post about it on your blog.

It covers:

• The best blogging techniques.
• How to get traffic to your blog.
• How to turn your blog into money.

I'll let you know what I think once I've had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it's still free.

Here's Mark's invitation:

It took me 6 years to figure out that blogging was significant.

"This is just a freakin' self-posting guest book with comments!"

So, my company (Simpleology) decided to create a course on blogging.

Umm ... can you say "credibility gap?"

Apparently I can.

Anyway, we make kick ass courseware (among other things), but kick ass it may be - your course is only as good as the content is valid, right?

We consulted with some industry experts on the content and people who have seen it say it's great, but I'm still not in my comfort zone.

So, here's what we've decided to do ...

We're going to give the course away to anyone who blogs about it.

All you have to do is mention that it exists.

After you try it you can rip us a new one in your blog - it's all good. We accept all feedback (we may or may not agree with it - but it doesn't mean we can't be friends).

We're not sure how this stacks up against our other courseware (about which we're very comfortable - proud even), but this is what it is.

I'm half-curious to see what the blogosphere thinks about it.

Podcast about Creativity

You can hear my co-author, Susan Marcus, and Robyn Baker Flatt, our host for the Baker Idea Institute workshop in January, on Dallas Public Radio KERA broadcast, now a podcast. If you are interested in the creative process, and in helping children find their own strengths, listen here.

It's good studio listening, I think! Maybe you'll want to know more -- if so, go to the link to New World Kids on the sidebar and order the book!

FInding Your Way in Media and Materials

Another pathway to finding one’s voice has to do with the materials and media that are central to the form. For me media is anything that takes the idea into form, be it writing, silk paint, cookie dough or conversation. Most of us as artists have the luxury of finding, exploring, layering and learning about many different kinds of media, and this time in play is an important part of the process of coming into our unique style. Some ideas work in cookie dough, others don't.

Experimentation, fluency and craftsmanship all play a role. Experimentation means taking the time and having the will to push a media or material beyond what you have seen others do with it. For some, this is easy and essential, others of us have to work hard to "break the rules," since our inclination or training may make this tantamount to heresy.

Fluency means playing with possibilities and with the borders between media, combining it with other materials and using new tools with the medium. Fluency is the brainstorming equivalent but with stuff, not just ideas. Fluency also requires “just sticking to it” long enough to get beyond the first easy idea, and this I think is the dirty little secret behind developing facility and technical skills -- ie craftsmanship.

Many artists want their first of something to be fabulous, but most of us who have stuck with art long enough know that expertise does clarify the voice. Experience with the technical handling of the media, the tools, the physical material of one’s art and craft means that the message becomes clear, the hand of the artist is consciously visible rather than intrusively visible. You’ve simply got to keep at it and the “it” has to be something you like enough to carry you over the drudge, slog and boring parts. Paints gotta dry. Dye needs its temperature. The ink line needs the right brush and the paper that lets it do what you want it to do. If you break the rules here, it's because you want to, not because you can't do it "right." 

Sounds a bit like a teeter-totter and it is. Too  much attention too soon to craft and you may end up with a dead something instead of a living idea. Too little attention to skillful handling, and your idea may disappear under the clutter of incompetence. And of course, all of these aspects are ever moving targets for most of us!

PS All these photos are from the recent Baker Idea Institute Workshop, where we did a lot of playing around with materials/media. Exercises are among those included in New World Kids, The Parents' Guide to Creative Thinking.

Your Path, Content and Themes

I have a cousin who when young would go take on a topic and do it to death -- several years, it was trains -- he not only had a train-themed bedroom, he knew the whistles and engineers on the train routes that went past his rural home. Another year, he decided to dig, starting with a root cellar under the house and then went onto a swimming pond in the front yard. No kidding. This kid had a knack for content and theme. His life, though not that of an artist in the traditional sense, has been rich with exploration and investigation, taking him through careers as varied as archeologist, chemist, political organizer.

For me another part of personal voice has to do with content and subject matter. Many artists who are just starting out jump around from one topic to another, one genre to another --  this is an important part of learning. Sooner or later though the time comes to get beyond the surface of a topic or interest, whether it is rural landscapes or flowers or political activism or portraiture. Or how oil paint goes onto a canvas, or the way couched lines of yarn take on contour.

Committing to solving the same problem different ways has a real benefit In the process of finding one’s voice. Perhaps this is where series comes in. (And, to respectfully disagree with artists who defend their unwillingness or disinterest in working in series) have you ever known an artist whose work really took them somewhere who did not have serial work that built one on the other? I don't.

Your series may be connected to content and subject matter or it may be a more formal approach with color or line or a particular attack in the realm of stitching that comes into play. For example, Lisa Call's structured series has a content that not only relates to her perception of land and fences, but a theme of stitch and intersection. Geography can provide a thematic content, as is does with Virgina Speigel's Boundary Waters series. Even a shape takes on a thematic weight if it's used often and explored in depth. Darcy Love's amazing art cloth and fiber art always returns to the animals and plants in her world and in her travels. Jane Dunnewold's work at Art Cloth Studios is often grounded in her study of Zen concepts.

How do you pick? Start with something that holds some passion for you – something with enough personal interest that you might have a chance of making it interesting to someone else.

Sometimes the content of one’s work is directly related to “formal” interests (for example, an artist interested in rhythm, might find a study of African mudcloth patterns particularly inspiring and influential, or maybe exploring the visual idea of windows would appeal to an artist who likes spatial concepts.) For others, a theme or content is something important because of experience, story and memory – journaling can help you identify these kinds of themes. Themes and content lead one to develop personal imagery, ways of handling materials and tools, narrative content sometimes.

I have a number of recurring themes in my work -- mermaids, iconic spiritual figures, angels, prickly pear cactus and other plants around the land, my own handprint, the colors and actual materials of Latin America. All of these come and go, layered and justaposed in my work. I come and go with them, with these series, since my particular way of working in one that honors my own need for variety and improvisation. But I keep them alive, adding perhaps along the way, dropping one or another and then circling back around. These do become the elements and approaches that make my work recognizable -- and that IS important to me. Both as an artist and a one who wants to sell my work to collectors and institutions.

What about you? How is recurring content, interesting themes, important to your work? Have you ever committed to doing something more than once?

Finding Your Voice, Your Path

We all want our work to be distintive and unique. Really, don't we? No matter how much we admire the work we see of other artists, when we embark on the journey of living the artist's life, we want our work to sing with our own voice. I think there are several parts to finding that voice, that path (if voice in a visual sense seems too mixed a metaphor). I also think the process is similar no matter your medium and whatever the field you pursue, be it art, quiltmaking, physics or cookery. As I've been teaching this past week, and heading into two more workshops this week -- one in Austin for the Austin Fiber Artists and my own recurring Artist Journal/Artist Journey retreat this weekend -- this piece I wrote a couple of years ago -- and revised for the upcoming events -- bears repeating. Today, Part One:

Think about "Pure Form:"

I believe – and my belief is supported by more than 30 years of work with children in creative learning environments – that each of us is born with an innate preference/leaning toward a particular way of perceiving and giving form that is directly connected to what I (and my colleagues in this work) call the Sensory Alphabet. This vocabulary of non-verbal qualities – line, color, shape, space, light, texture, movement, sound and rhythm -- is a way of thinking about and organizing one’s individual strengths of perception and invention. Looking at one’s preferences and natural tendencies through this lens serves as both a way to self discovery and as a bridge to understand other creative work. This vocabulary is not just an artistic one – it can hold as true to creative work in business as in design, in science as in art.

If you think about letters of the alphabet as being the building blocks of literacy (both spoken and read and write) and numbers as the building blocks of mathmatics and physics, then the Sensory Alphabet is what can be a symbol system for everything else (and even math and words, sinces it's more primal, more connected to our bodies and minds in a very basic way.)

Think about which of these constructs is easiest for you to notice, to manipulate, to play with –is it pattern (rhythm) or texture or color? What did you love as a young child? Which of these elements are most important to you in your home, your environment? What artists do you resonate to? Design exercises and experiences for yourself that feed your mind’s natural interests, or find teachers that share your sensibilities (look at their work and see what they say about it) who can provide classes that feed your perceptual strengths.

An understanding of your own creative style in terms of this vocabulary can be the starting place for finding your voice – and even help you find the best and strongest medium for work. For example, if color is my strong suite, I might take time to do dye and discharge samples, study Albers and other colorist’s work, take photos exploring color themes, investigate watercolor and glazing, look at color as understood by chemists and physicists, etc. If movement is a strong suite, I might see how to incorporate moving elements in my textile work, take up techniques that use my body in strenuous and challenging fashion, look at how movement blurs an image and how to capture that sense with dyeing or printing, I might even want to dye fabrics and construct garments for dance performances or architectural installations with moving components.

Most of us have three or four of these strong suites that interact in interesting ways and can pose intriguing puzzles for our work. Tracking down your strongest perceptual elements is usually just a matter of paying attention to preference, to what you notice in a space, to the materials that call your name. Journaling about childhood preferences and doing detective work in your closet, your home, your memory bank can help you name your sensory strengths.

Our book, New World Kids, The Parent's Guide to Creative Thinking includes investigations and invention activities for adults as well as for adults and children, despite the title. We think parents need to nurture their own experience with this alphabet in order to recognize their children's strengths and learning styles. Here's an example for TEXTURE -- since most of us who end up in the fiber arts are almost certainly drawing on some interest and facility for texture, I figure it might spur you own with some Sensory Alphabet play!

From NEW WORLD KIDS, all rights reserved.

TEXTURE investigations to do on your own:

1. Examine your wardrobe and make a texture inventory.
What textures really suit you? What feels good against your
skin? Make a point to buy something with a pleasing texture
the next time you shop.
2. Cook a meal with a conscious plan to include contrasting
textures, as the Japanese do. Do certain kinds of tastes correspond
to certain kinds of textures? Think temperature as well
as crisp, creamy, grainy, smooth.
3. Where can you experience coarse, slimy, mushy, matted,
abrasive, elastic, sleazy, itchy, silky, downy, frothy, fuzzy?
Consciously create one new tactile experience each day for a
week.
4. Listen to different music with an ear toward texture: contemporary
jazz, baroque, chant and heavy metal are a few contrasting
genres to try.
5. Visit a museum’s textile or fiber arts exhibitions or explore
some online exhibitions or galleries. Try one or more
of these key words for a search: fashion, art quilts, traditional
quilts, art cloth, knitting, weaving, wearable art, basketry, fiber
arts, shibori, batik.
6. Study and write a poem about the textures of your body,
inside and out.

Color in Bustamante

Imagine painting your doorway pepto pink. Imagine what it's like to open your eyes to a chrome yellow wall, and another, and another? What's not to love about the colors in the little town in Northern Mexico that we visited over the holidays? Folks in Bustamante seemed typically Northern Mexican in their conservatism; our hotel owner was more dour than debonair; the sidewalks emptied by 8 p.m. and we never did find a bar, much less the website-touted mescal factory we had read about. BUT, in color sense, the town was anything buy shy and retiring. Even with many storefronts and homes shuttered in the winter (perhaps to open come summer visits), walls were freshly painted, the door frames bright, and every possible color combination seemed to work with its neighbor -- killing the rather limited notion we seem to have for color harmonies and proper color schemes. Of course the nature played its part, as well, with pink and orange bouganvilla blooms reaching over walls, and branches laden with limes bending over porticos. Then, there were the more subtle hues of the mountains, the early huisache blooms, the clear spring waters and blue skies at the ojo de agua.

We're planning to stretch the limits of color play at my February workshop, too.  "A Field Guide to Color" is coming up mid February 20-22. If you'd like a hands-on  take-no-enemies  time to work with color, stretching your understanding of the rules, taking on, learning then breaking them, sign up now while there's still space. For details, see the workshop page here. We'll have dye play, painting with hue and value, chakra color meditations and more. The economy might mean fewer long trips or major workshop weeklong outings for many of us artists, so I hope you'll consider this closer-to-home affordable opportunity for an intensive improvisational dye workshop with color at its heart!

A Few Questions for the New Year

 

Just to get the blog going again, I'm taking the easy way out with a link to a short little animation that says "it" (or this particular "it") more better than I have a brain for today.  As I wade through emails, real mails, bills and puddings, piles of file-ables, and the other stuff that has accumulated over the course of a couple of holiday weeks, it's a good reminder for the big sort of sort.

And a happy new 2009 to you all. Coming later this month - a new newsletter, details about my upcoming solo show at North West Vista College, reports on the conference appearance in Dallas for New World Kids and a stack of photos from Bustamante, Mexico -- surely a trip back in time if there ever was one (no big box stores, no rush, no traffic or noise, no disco or late-nights, just big rock mountains and people sweeping their streets each morning, handmade rocking chairs and wood-oven cooked breads).

Peace Meditation

Martha K. Grant sent this poem to me earlier this month, and it seems a fitting time to pass it along. In the midst of the holiday season, I need a reminder to take the time to do a little raking. The poem is by Jan Jarboe Russell,  a writer of merit and depth, who also happens to be one of my NIA teachers. If you have a chance to take a class from Jan at the Synergy Studio, or read something she's written (often for Texas Monthly), do so in the certainty that you will benefit, heart and soul, body and mind.

LET ME HEAR SILENCE

One day I visited a Zen monastery
in Hiroshima. Groups of monks took turns
raking white rocks in a certain pattern,
praying silently that the world might never again
witness the explosion of an atomic bomb.

Standing in the prayer garden,
less than a mile from Ground Zero,
I had an irrational thought:

What if the real reason we have not
blown ourselves up isn’t the billions of dollars
spent on defense since World War II?
What if the real reason we are alive
is because funny-looking guys
are silently raking rocks,
far from the centers of world power?

Nah, I thought—
but then again,
a little rock raking couldn’t hurt.

-- Jan Jarboe Russell

The poem originally appeared in Texas Monthly.

For more from Jan, see her Lady Bird: A Biography of Mrs. Johnson or this column in the Express-News that explained why John McCain and Sarah Palin are not "original mavericks."

At the Heart of Learning

Photo by Nan Spring, used by permission of the photographer.

Here I am with my mouth open, as usual.

All is well. The book signing on Monday night at The Twig Bookstore went really well and my appearance at a FASA meeting earlier also found Susan and I charged by an eager crowd of (mostly) grandmothers who bought New World Kids as gifts for their children and grandchildren! And it's been so much fun to see orders roll in from around the ether. Thank you to all who've taken the time, money and attention to purchase! Here's one point in our presentation that really gets to the audience:

We as grownups see the attention and money and resources being spent by folks who are trying to find their true callings, some even having made it big in the world's terms who realize that what they are spending their lives doing has little to do with what their hearts want to do. The What Color is Your Parachute series is just one of the long-running successes that help people figure out what to do next -- Julia Cameron's Artists Way books are another. So why don't we give kids the tools and means to figure this out earlier? Once children know their strengths, know something about what and how they are good at what they are, the whole focus of the educational system makes a shift. Students take charge of their own learning to a much greater degree; discipline becomes less the classroom focus; learning becomes its own motivation. Peter Drucker, the business guru, says, " The most important thing is to know what you're good at."

Learning what you're good at can push one into unexpected skill acquisition: I've spent a good amount of time setting up the NWK website with customized  Squarespace templates and then mastering the ins and outs of Paypal buttons. Valuable skills all. Next, the studio desk and work table became the site for proposal staging. I killed my share of trees sending in the paper work with proposals to teach at the 2009 International Quilt Festival, mostly in the Mixed Media classroom, but also a lecture proposal derived from NWK and the Sensory Alphabet. I hope I can teach there again as I learned so much and this time I plan to do it right.

But it seems that I've had little real art time since Thanksgiving and my soul has noticed. What I do best is make art (and teach it), and all this other folderol is just a means to that end. The little nagging ache in my heart means I've neglected the artist and spent way too much time on the support services. We have such a tightrope to walk as working artists (though I am sure this is a quandary for other sole-proprietors/one-person-offices in other fields). I teach at the Majestic Art Ranch this morning, so at least I'll get my hands into the demos and a few samples, since we're on the wind-down. And sometimes just getting my hands on a dyepot puts the momentum in action. What are you going to do today to get yourself back to the heart of things?

PS. If you'd like to see more photos of the booksigning, check the NWK blog later today.

P.s Just found a link to a nice article online about our appearance at the symposium in Dallas in January -- The Baker Idea Institute.

Kreativ Blogger don't need to spell it right!

I was nominated by Carol Larson over at Tall Girl Tales to receive this award, and it's fun to get the tap on the virtual shoulder. Mostly it's a hoot to have the excuse to peruse the other nominees and track back through other's blogs to find some real gems. Of course Carol is one of my regular reads -- she is honest, talented, wrestles with many of the same issues that I find wrapped around my brain. (Please Carol, use up the stuff, but don't give up making your beautiful art cloth.)

If I had all the time in the world, I might do nothing else except read great blog posts. Alas, the real world interrupts! But this award was a great excuse to take do some recreational virtual sight-seeing. Like to see these rainy day photos from Rayna Gillman, absorb these practices for being present from Jeanne Beck, and throw up my hands at the wild and wonderful rants from Lauri Smith, a former (and I hope future) participant at El Cielo (and you think you have an excuse for not blogging) and well, a lot of other eye, brain and soul candy.

I have been reading more and more that "the blog is dead" -- seems like the corporate/collaborative blog has taken over the field, with those like Huffington Post taking the top traffic and top readership awards. Not that I ever aspired to do more than keep tabs on my own work, remind myself of what's important, stay in touch with friends and family with a slightly more formal stance and a bit more care in the writing than the run-of-mailbox email. But I still think the blog has a place in our creative, social and collective culture online. (So does Seth Godin, by the way, and if anyone is a blogger to emulate, it's Seth). Tweeting on Twitter is fun, but you can't really say much in one sentence!

I find that it's difficult to write some weeks, but I try to manage a tiny post, or at least a picture. Sometimes I need to stretch out and make long theoretical posts and deep-swimming pool philosophical diatribes. Sometimes it's just fun to have a place to record successes, completions, challenges and goals, and share them with an audience of more than the kitchen table. I love writing a blog and don't plan to give it up, even if the trend is overrun, overwrought, commercialized and co-opted.

As a nominee:

1. The winner may put the logo on her blog. (done)

2. Put a link to the person you got the award from in your blog (done)

3. Nominate 5 blogs.

4. Put links to the blogs. (below)

5. Leave a message for your nominees.

Here are my nominees:

Lauri Smith at Artsmith, because she needs to keep writing, kidney stone or no kidney stone. And her last post is about the funniest thing I've ever read by someone who's just dodged the big one. And also because she is young, and mostly I read stuff by people mine own age.

Jane Dunnewold for her new image-a-day blog. Eye candy (and food for thought) indeed. And anyone who has ever taken a class from Jane knows why her brain and eye are worth following around.

The collective posts at RAGGED CLOTH CAFE. Thought provoking, always. Wisdom-provoking often. Probably won't pass along this award as that's not the kind of place it is, but I wanted to put the link here anyway!

Sabrina Zarca's political creativity and textural art. "Sometimes creativity comes in different forms. The art of organizing and standing in solidarity in the face of injustice is an art form worth perfecting! "

And finally, Serena Fenton's Layers of Meaning. Says it all.

Not all of these folks (most of them actually, except for Jane's daily practise) post daily or even weekly. But when they do, it's almost always worth reading. And, as you can see, I like the glimpses into worlds different from my own, the stretch and pull from outer limits that don't fall across my usual path. If I didn't read these blogs, I probably wouldn't have the richness of ponderings that I do!

Thinking, Learning, Creating, Birthing a Book

I think this has been a two, maybe three year pregnancy-- and by some stretch, we might even count its conceptual moment it to, let's see, 48 years ago? (This is hard to imagine, even though I've been there the whole time.)

Forty-eight years ago, I was 12 years old and my parents moved us to Waco from Houston. Where I had won an art class at the Houston Museum of Art from a drawing of a chicken made from a treble cleft sign. I still remember it.

The classes would have been a long commute, so instead I was enrolled in Baylor Children's Theatre, directed by Jearnine Wagner under the auspices of the theatre director Paul Baker. And that was the germ of what became this book, written and designed by my longtime colleague at the drawing desk and composing table, Susan Marcus.

At the heart of that early experience (which was far more than what most children's theater programs or lessons were then or now) and at the heart of the book is the Sensory Alphabet (aka "elements of form") and the idea-to-form process. As kids, we ate it up, as an adult, I still use these simple but profound tools to solve deep and profound problems, whether in the world of art or business, enterprise or interpersonal interaction.

What do these tools do? The Sensory Alphabet gives one a way of talking about, working with and creatively playing with visual and sensory information in ways that help one transform, notice convergent and divergent information, solve problems and approach media, materials and tools with knowledge of one's own strong suits. A conscious grasp of one's own creative process gives the maker a sense of security, a map along the way, an understanding through the tough spots and a way to work collaboratively with appreciation for other's strenghts and talents.

Several years ago, Susan and I decided that the ideas that we had worked with (both as young people and later as co-founders of the Learning About Learning Educational Foundation -- 1968-1985 -- with Jearnine, Cynthia Herbert and Julia Jarrell) were due an update. In our separate and collaborative projects we knew that the creative message, the approaches, the tools that were so a part of our own creative lives needed a new platform for a new generation of parents and teachers. Susan was, I gratefully acknowledge, the driving force for this book. I worked primarily at her direction and instigation --- and the beautiful design work is all hers. I am honored to be listed as co-author and think her quite generous with that shared billing.

It is a work of deep collaboration, with each other and with the past we share, the ideas and inspiration of our Learning About Learning cohorts, the children, the parents, boardmembers, Friends, funders and others who gave us their time and attention. The experience with parents and children and teachers has continued through the work of all of us who were part of LAL -- Julia now directs a program for international teachers through Gerogetown University and the Alamo Community Colleges. Dr. Cynthia Herbert is a consultant to the Houston I.S.D and other educational institutions. Susan and I worked most recently with children at the Aldrich Contemporary Museum of Art in Ridgefield, CN.

Here are the book's concluding pages, with some photos from some of our recent programs.

I think it sums up what we are trying to do.

We need all the children now.

We need the ones who are hard-wired for movement — they
will become the dancers, athletes, coaches — the ones who
have to move to think.

We need the ones who are especially sensitive to the
vibrations and the needs of other people, and animals — they
are the potential police officers, dramatists, vets, teachers,
biologists, managers, psychologists, healers — the ones who
have to feel to think.

The future needs all the children now.

We need the ones who naturally think in 3D — the potential
architects, surveyors, industrial designers, sculptors,
homebuilders, urban planners, masons, engineers — the ones
who need to experience space to think.

We need the ones who experience the world in images
— the next photojournalists, graphic and web designers,
filmmakers...the ones who think through their eyes.

We need the linear thinkers - the coming writers, storytell-
ers, mathematicians, planners, draftsmen, playwrights,
logicians, chemists - the ones who think best in linear arcs.

We need the ones who are innately attuned to the earth and
its cycles — the budding botanists, cosmologists, farmers,
astronomers, conservationists — the ones who naturally think
in the larger patterns of our planet.

We need the ones who touch — the next weavers, chefs,
physicians, carpenters, potters, gardeners — the ones who
think with their hands.

 

Notice: The careers listed come from a twentieth century
lexicon. They don’t even scratch the surface of what lies
just over the horizon in the immediate future. Currently,
the “30,000 foot view” of our twenty-first century presents
an awesome spectrum, one that spans large-scale and
critical problems of global survival to amazing discoveries
and possible solutions to those problems in diverse and
overlapping fields of study.

Reflecting on this near future brings our children’s
educational needs into a higher focus. As we noted in the
introduction to this book, our schools, even the best of
them, seem stuck in a pedagogy of the past. Assurance that
our children can participate successfully in this time of
unparalleled change and shifting boundaries of the future
will require their individual creative thinking.

The “Back to Basics” clarion call is of limited reach. It neither encompasses the myriad media in young lives nor provides the thinking tools for innovation that our children need now and tomorrow. And, at this time, parents are the literal keys to opening the doors of change.

We want our New World Kids to be confident of the gifts they
bring into the world and confident in themselves as creators.
Each of them embodies an absolutely unique perspective and
collectively, they need clear vision and the sure footing to
carry us all into the next Renaissance.

The future needs all the children now.

For more information, and a look inside a few more pages, see the website in progress at New World Kids.

If you're in the San Antonio area, Susan and I will be presenting a multimedia presentation and signing books at The Twig Bookstore on December 8 from 5 to 7 p.m. You can also order a book by clicking on the shopping cart link on the sidebar of this blog.

If you live in the Dallas area, you can find out more here about our appearance at the Baker Idea Institute, January 16-17, 2009.

Yikes. Where I've been in cyberspace

No posting for two weeks, that's a sad state of affairs. But, I've been busy in another sector of cyberspace (among about a million other things including parties, memorial services, outings, FASA's Holiday Sale -- but that's enough about me, how about you this time of year? - I thought so).

So, take a look at the new New World Kids site, not quite up and running and taking orders, but on its way. We'll have the books in hand (or at least in the Austin warehouse) on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, assuming all goes as planned. By then, we'll have a Paypal link so you can order at the site (and here on this one, too).

Please take a look and see what else you'd like to see on the site. We have some free downloadable excerpts we plan to add, and a few other ideas in store as well. But, in order to quiet the fears that I have dropped off the face of the ether, here's a slightly premature link to New World Kids.

UPDATE on TUESDAY:

I'm still tinkering with the New World Kids site and don't have an order form enabled yet -- promise, it's coming soon. There is also a PayPal link coming to my sidebar, but PLEASE hold off a few days, as the shipping and tax aren't quite all right yet. I'm peddling as fast as I can. NOTE TO SELF: e-commerce has its challenges. Take time. Breathe.

More Houston: Artist's Altar

Well. I didn't win the tiara parade. I don't think my garden glove, yarn, shredded fabic, needles and pins entry was quite tiaraesque enough. But I had a great time all day. I did a "Meet the Teachers" session early in the day -- 10:30 am and believe it or not, people, a few, showed up to hear me (or the person who was next on the list). So I continue to learn a lot. and continue to meet wonderful teachers, quilters, artists, all. Here's the basic outline of my presentation, I hope you can follow along:

An Art Quilt Artist’s Altar

By Susie Monday, artist, coach and teacher
3532 Timbercreek Rd.
El Cielo Studios, Pipe Creek, Texas
http://susiemonday.squarespace.com
www.susiemonday.com
210-643-2128

Making an artist’s altar is one of the creative exercises suggested by Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way. I’ve adapted her practice by combining it with the process of art quilt journaling. Art quilt Artist’s Altars start with an acknowledgement of our human heritage of creativity. Episcopal priest and radical theologian Matthew Fox has written, “We are creators at our very core. Only creating can make us happy, for in creating we tap into the deepest powers of self and universe and the Divine Self. We become co-creators, that is, we create with the other forces of society, universe and the God-self when we commit to creativity.” The act of creating an artist altar honors this deep connection to the Source.

Here are some prompts, suggestions and techniques that will help you make your own art quilt artist’s altar. First construct or purchase a simple box or altar shaped frame that will determine the size of your art quilt work. I build simple 1 by 3” frames in a “house” shape for the ones I make, but you can use a pre-made gallery canvas as the structure.

1. Start with your favorite colors. Pull fabrics from your stash that represent your most beloved hues and shades. You can use one or 50 different prints. No rules, here. Combine a rainbow or stick to the subtlest shades of white you can find.

2. What symbolizes creativity for you – is it a person, a goddess or mythological figure, a place, a shape, a sound, an image from nature or from art history? Is it all of the above. Collect, draw, cut, photo transfer or collage a central image for your art quilt artist altar by starting with what speaks the name of creativity the loudest.

3. Use your favorite quilting techniques to assemble the top of your art quilt. I use fusing, piecing, machine quilting and hand embroidery for the ones I make, but you should honor your own favorite techniques. Assemble with batting, but a back layer of fabric is usually not needed.

4. Make the top of your art quilt large enough to wrap completely around the frame, whatever its size. Wrap and staple the top around the frame, fitting and folding the corners neatly. If desired, stitch fabric to the back

Good news of the day: when I went to pick up my art materials for the demo, I found a note from Leslie Riley (she organized the mixed media classes). Pokey Bolten of Quilting Arts magazines. (Cloth, Paper, Scissors, etc.) wanted to talk to me about writing for the mags. That's incentive to get my proposals in to the editors. Hold me to it.

On other quilting fronts: check out Ragged Cloth Cafe's last month post by Kate Themal,  food for thought as we look at the amazing variety of quilts here in this venue: traditional, antique, contemporary, cutting edge, stange and digital.

Fiber Artist Wins Genius Grant

My friend (and sister art quilter) Martha Grant sent me this notice last week and I finally had a few minutes to look into the story:

from the CBS News website: Mary Jackson is an African American basketmaker whose work exemplifies the way that fine craft can preserve and extend our personal and family stories and our world views. “This woman was awarded one of the 25 MacArthur Foundation Genius Grants worth $500,000. Yaaay for fiber artists everywhere!

"Mary Jackson, 63, fiber artist, Charleston, S.C. Jackson has preserved the craft of sweetgrass basketry.--"

There is also a video about Jackson's work on the Craft in America website. Here's more of what that source has to say about her:

Mary Jackson (b. 1945) is a basket maker who lives in Charleston, South Carolina with her husband, Stoney. She makes sweetgrass baskets that come out of a tradition that has been passed down to her from her ancestors. It originated in West Africa, and then was brought to America by slaves.

This kind of basket making is an identifying cultural practice for people who were cut off from their own history, and has been a part of Charleston and Mt. Pleasant communities for more than 300 years. Jackson uses sweetgrass, palmetto, pine needles, and bulrush in her work, which is innovative, but always mindful of its past. Her baskets are represented in many collections including the American Craft Museum, White House Collection of Arts and Crafts, Museum of Fine Arts Boston, and Museum of African American History, Detroit.

According to the CBS website, other visual artists who won this prestigious grant this year are:

Tara Donovan, 38, sculptor, Brooklyn, N.Y. As an artist, Donovan transforms ordinary materials into sculptures that mirror geological and biological forms.

Jennifer Tipton, 71, stage lighting designer, New York, N.Y. Tipton uses lighting to evoke mood and accompany dance, drama and opera.

It's heartening to see the range of ages represented and, simply by the fact that two of these visual artists, and 7 of the 25, are over the age of 55. This age-span tells me that Malcomb Gladwell is onto something in his New Yorker magazine article, one that has deservedly been making the rounds on the fiber art lists. Read more here: "Late Bloomers - Why do we equate genius with precocity"

Talent and Success

Jeff Koons surely has success defined with his work on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Is he more or less talented than other artists whose work never makes it out of the garage?

Alyson Stanfield sent a tweet sometime last night asking: "Should I tell clients they won't find the success they want in a certain area b/c of lack of talent? I've always thought this wasn't my job."

A provoking question, and one that every teacher/coach/human being with artist friends must confront. My core values include a belief that every person is gifted and that creative work is our human condition-- certainly our human right. That doesn't mean that every person out there making oil paintings, watercolors or art quilts is equally "successful" at creating a piece of art. Nor, are any of us who do this work called art successful all the time.

Alyson's question really has two parts, one reason I couldn't even think of answering in the realm of Twitter. "the success they want in a certain area" and "lack of talent." Let's start with the tough one: "lack of talent."

According to Webster's (as quoted by Eric Maisel): talent is "any natural ability, power or endowment, and especially any superior, apparently natural ability in the arts or sciences or in the learning or doing of anything." Maisel in his book Creativity for Life; Practical Advice on the Artist's Personality and Career, writes compellingly about the subject of talent -- one of the most interesting points is that any artistic discipline requires an entire constellation of abilities -- a painter, according to Maisel, for example, must be able to make a powerful composition, have a fine color sense, a knack for new images or ideas, and the ability to evoke a powerful response -- so what if you have one or two but not the others?

That Webster's definition also adds "apparently natural" -- thus implying that some abilities at least can be learning, polished and improved. So there is that to consider as well.

Thus said, talent also, for me, has the dimension of "best fit." Since I think we all get to be creative in this particular manifestation, each of us comes into it with abilities and endowments to do something extremely well, something unique and un-doable by anyone else, stories (which might be in the form of quilts or paintings or jewelry or paintings) that no one else can tell. What I superficially judge as "lack of talent" really often means that the person in question has not (yet) found his or her strongest and most powerful form of expression. Watercolor just may not be it, no matter how much the person likes watercolors, lusts to be a watercolor artist and has latched on watercolor as his or her world. And that, I think, has to do with a lack of education for looking, dispassionately, at how and what are our sensory strengths, our physical patterns, our creative processes, our "best fits" thus to make a good match between what we come into the world with, and what we can most powerfully create.

Can a teacher help with this? Sure, but gently I hope. In the end though, each of us who wants to own the title "artist" must do a lot of clear-headed thinking about our abilities, powers and endowments and what the discipline of the medium really demands.

The other part of the question, "the success they want in a certain area," also implies another misfit -- maybe the artist just thinks the only success for her or him is to be hung on the wall of  MOMA. Is he or she reaching for a measure of success out of a need that has nothing to do with the creation of art, but fulfills some other longing for success, for fame, for fortune? The only way out of this one is more introspection, I fear. And a teacher or coach who can gently push one toward confronting and answering the tough questions about success. And, again, a realistic assessment of the fit between the "talent" and the marketplace (or exhibition space) desired. And talent may just not have a whole lot to do with some of those arenas of success: it could just be showmanship, luck, what the market wants, the historical "value" on a particular talent, the general economy...

Alyson is a art business coach, and she has curatorial experience and knows what the art market is on many, many levels, from personal experience and from her work with clients and workshop participants. Should she burst the bubble? I tend to agree that it might not be her job, as she defines it with her art business clients. Perhaps there's no harm in trying to get them to see clearly and come to the conclusion that they have not (yet) found their correct creative fit in the world? In conscience, can she keep taking someone's money to coach them through the business aspect of their artistic career, when she strongly feels that no matter how good they get at the business of it, they don't have the chops in the work? Maybe so, after all, no matter where they go with their work -- however they find the fit, now or later -- the business advice and techniques and skills should still be valuable. What do you think?

Maisel's book and the questions he poses for artists to answer might be a good tool to recommend. I'm finding it amazingly provocative, scary and quite helpful to work through -- and this from a woman who's done quite a lot of introspective thought about life, art and my place in it!

P.S. The entire realm of defining success is a rich, complex one -- and Lisa Call in her blog has been doing some really good defining, so for more on that, see this link (scroll down to find the success posts).

P.P.S.Creativity for Life: Practical Advice on the Artist's Personality, and Career from America's Foremost Creativity Coach