So, this is it. I’m rested and ready for the big move on Monday. This will be my fourth studio move in five years, quite a lot considering the amount of stuff I have to move each time. The second move was within the same studio complex in Deptford, the third, just across the road. This one, though not that much further away, is nevertheless to a less familiar area for me. I’ve come to think of myself as a Deptford-based artist and now that’s going to change.
Each move has been symbolic in defining the different phases of my journey as an artist. It was easy to hide away in the first place I moved into – there wasn’t a strong sense of community amongst the artists there at that time, and so there was little room for discussion or dialogue, no questioning of the work that I was creating. Head down, getting on with the work was the order of many long, solitary days – not surprising then that the blogs I gravitated towards at that time were Jane Boyer’s Working in Isolation and Becoming Part of Something by Rosalind Davis, the titles themselves speaking volumes.
It was a productive phase initially but I started to feel a bit stuck after a while and as my connections with other artists in the surrounding community grew, I realised there was so much more to gain from sharing ideas. Elizabeth Murton’s Engine ChatChat in this respect was instrumental for me in moving my practice forward and I realised that I wanted more than just to be ‘getting on with it.’
Past work experience with supportive and generous colleagues had always meant working as part of a team where I felt valued for the work I put in; I wanted to recreate that as an artist – to feel a part of a community where I could think about my work in the context of a larger art world, have conversations about it and be offered guidance by other artists about ways to improve it, make my work ‘good enough’ for presentation to open submissions, for example.
Subsequent attendance at other events led by DIY Educate confirmed that this was a great way of making connections, getting feedback on my art work from other professional artists and through it, gaining self-confidence. And at its most basic level, given its supportive and nurturing environment, it’s where I learned not just to say with confidence ‘I am an artist’ but also, to believe it.
The past three months of writing this blog has been brilliant in terms of giving me a space to reflect upon the past and to think about what parts of it I’d like to preserve in the future. It’s helped me stop and take stock of where this newly chosen career path might be heading, the financial sustainability of it and whether or not the time restraints imposed by family commitments and so on make it a feasible option.
Gravitating towards and sticking with those who share the same morals and values has been an integral part of keeping me on track and these new relationships have in turn been a real asset both in a personal and professional sense; it’s something I’ve said more than once in this blog:
there’s a vulnerability within all of us, a deep desire to be accepted – to be heard, to feel needed and to feel included. Encouragement and empathetic understanding from like-minded artists is invaluable; it’s what all of us at some point or other crave and need in order to flourish as creative people.
For me, personal integrity, professionalism and the freedom to be honest are key. So roll on Monday, back to being a part of an artistic community – one which puts a greater value on the soul of artists than the sold sign on a piece of work in a commercially driven gallery. I can’t wait!
