As an artist, I am constantly having to conquer my fears. Over and over and over again. I love it. I think that’s why I have chosen to make art the way that I do… sort of backwards. Most artists that I meet have become masters of their materials and often of their subjects too. One may do landscapes in oils while the other does abstracts in acrylics… and that is what they have done for years. They become intimate with their art, exploring all the intricacies of the medium, color, light, form, composition. The artwork is expertly executed because they have spent a lot of time getting to know one another – the art and the artist. They have this beautiful committed relationship.
The way I approach my art is a little more like my days of traveling the world in my twenties, when I would find a new lover in each place that I visited. There was passion, excitement, exploration and fear. I’d find someone new, get to know the city or country through his eyes and before we got too comfortable, it was time for me to move on. It may sound shallow but it didn’t feel like it. It was scary and fun and made us feel alive. These are the same feelings I seek with each new map that I create, that’s why I am always using new materials. But let me tell you, it can be super scary at times. I almost always experience a moment where I am totally and utterly paralyzed. Like when I spotted that cute guy on the piazza in Rome and had to decide whether to make eye contact or not.
I experienced this with my Tiny Treasures map. It took me a year to finally finish this thing. Why? A fear of commitment, a fear of the unknown and the perfectionist in me fearing that it wasn’t going to be good enough.
Many of these tiny treasures were saved as far back as my childhood (read all about the story behind this map in a previous post). I knew I wanted to glue them down, but to what and with what kind of glue? Many of these objects were the most fragile things imaginable, like dragonfly wings and quail eggs. How was I going to preserve them and make them into archival art. What was the end product going to look like? I had no idea so I just did nothing.
I have learned that the best way to conquer fear is to take tiny steps. Action cures fear. One step at a time. So I placed the tiny treasures on a white background (in the shape of a world map, of course). And I photographed it that way knowing it would look amazing as an image printed on canvas. It stayed that way, untouched, for months.
Then last summer, our family visited the Museum of Natural History in New York City and I saw this wall in the photograph below. That was it! Inspiration hit. I had made eye contact.
I was going to glue my tiny treasures to a huge piece of plexiglass and then pour a thick layer of resin over the entire thing, giving the illusion that the continents were submerged in an ocean of fluid liquid. The piece would be framed and hang on a wall, the transparent background allowing for shadows of each treasure to be seen on the wall behind, encouraging the viewer to look closely, explore and wonder how it’s all put together.
I came back from our trip and did absolutely nothing. Where do you get plexiglass? What kind of glue should I use? How do you work with resin? What if I screw the whole thing up?!
Four months later, I joined the Foothills Art Center Open Studio group and the first project I brought with me was this one. I brought the plexiglass (turns out you can buy it at Home Depot), a glue gun, glue sticks and my treasures. Within three hours I had everything glued down. All the other artists, many of whom had been meeting every Friday for the past 15 years, were kind, welcoming, curious and supportive. I knew immediately I wanted in with this amazing community.
Since that day in November, I have made it a point to join my new friends at Foothills every Friday from 10-2. They teach me, they inspire me, they give me life advice and we’ve even gone on a couple fun field trips together – to the Degas exhibit at Denver Art Museum and more recently to see a play called Sunday in the Park with George, about French pointillist artist, George Seurat.
But still… my piece sat around unfinished for another four months. I couldn’t make the next move.
Our upcoming Foothills Open Studio show (opening reception is this Friday, May 11) is what finally motivated me to finish my piece. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I made a move. I bought $250 of Art Resin, I mixed it, I poured it, I heated it, I let it harden and I did that over again three or four times to get the ideal thickness. I worked with my carpenter to build a custom frame out of beetle kill pine – the artwork made that move, told me it was what it needed. I’m going to say it without shame, but the last year and especially the last few weeks of working with this piece of art has been as passionate and exciting as any love affair I had back in my twenties. And the beauty of it is, I think this is the start of a wonderful new relationship. Art Resin and I got to know each other, intimately. We are going to make beautiful things together. I just know it.