Keeping It Going

Am I able to sustain my practice at the same time as maintaining a blog, I asked when I started writing ‘Keeping It Going.’ In the absence of a studio and access to this blog over the past two weeks, I’ve been giving this question some thought. My hope is that I can and that the two will coincide and complement each other, the writing in some way providing the groundwork and the impetus for periods of creativity.

I thought that being away from the studio would make me want to get straight back there on my return – to get busy, creating the things I’ve been thinking about making while I was away. The space will still be bearing the marks of Going for Gold, created for the Deptford X Open Studios just before leaving for my holiday – there’s clearing up to do when I do get myself back in there.

And yet I’m drawn to prioritising writing this, not quite able to motivate myself to be in the studio just yet; there’s work to be done in preparation for two upcoming exhibitions in the Autumn and I’m still in holiday mode – nothing like easing yourself back in gently, I suppose.

The family holiday I’ve just returned from was good – everything I’d hoped for, in fact – hot, sunny temperatures, warm sea to swim in and time for being together as a family as well as plenty of time for relaxation and quiet, reflective time to myself. I’m conscious of trying never to take things for granted and I feel very lucky.

I’m also conscious not just of how ready I was for this break, but also the feeling I had that, this time round, I’d somehow earned it. This marks a real change in my thinking because up until now I haven’t believed deep down inside that I had any real entitlement to a holiday. It’s all part of the ongoing reservation I’ve written about on here before – about how hard it’s felt for me at points over the past few years to quantify and justify my existence as an artist; that inherent Protestant work ethic worming its way to the surface.

It’s all tied up with why holidays have proved problematic for me since giving up my ‘proper’ job and becoming an artist. I knew where I stood as a public sector worker in relation to annual leave entitlement and other terms and conditions of employment. Hours of duty, salary, sick leave entitlement and so on were all clearly defined – boundaries are useful. It’s been a real learning curve working in a profession where employment rights have been considerably thinner on the ground, and of course, I was able to rely on guidance from the unions who have traditionally been strong and consistent in support of their public sector workers. Thank goodness, then for A-n – I’ve just literally, this minute renewed my subscription!

But as I said, this year was different in that I felt I had earned and deserved a break. But what had changed to make me feel this? I’ve always worked hard. What was different about now?

As is so often the case, it comes down to timing. Changes taking place for me on the work front were happening because I was receptive and ready to embrace them. I was at a crossroads when I made the decision to move into the ZeitgeistAP studio hub in February of this year. I made the decision to continue and move forward within the hub and on a personal level, made a further commitment to sustaining my life as a working artist.

There’s been a significant internal shift as a result and the way I feel about being an artist has altered. I feel like I’ve grown comfortably into the role and a lot of the anxiety I felt in the past has reduced as a result. It’s taken time, but I feel liberated by it, this trust and confidence in a new found vocation – hence I believe, my strong desire for a break, for a chance to stand back from it all and celebrate how far I feel I’ve come – not just in the past six months, but in the past five years, too.

Writing an honest account of what happened last week was cathartic – ‘better out than in’ as my Nana always used to say. She was right of course – sharing the angst felt liberating and brought in some unexpected but welcome sympathetic support. I’ve successfully got myself back on track this week and have been more effective in applying myself to my work.

The impact our emotions can have on our creative life is obvious and goes without saying probably but I do think it gets a bit lost sometimes. We soldier on regardless – struggling and wrestling our way through creative deserts, not making the connection between how an unsettled emotional life can affect everything around us – and not least, our creative life.

After the upset of last week, I’m slowly beginning to regain my composure and have started to feel more centred; that’s after a lot of talking. And though not created on a conscious level, it’s interesting I think that I’ve opted to present a piece of work for this weekend’s Open Studios that has essentially put a real sense of fun back into my practice. Creating an entirely new piece of work, Going for Gold actually felt quite effortless, namely because it was easily executed and great fun to make. And simple but true – it really is a genuine pleasure to see rather dull looking objects transformed into objects of beauty and splendour with a spray of gold paint. I know! … the phrase ‘Little things please little minds’ is conjured up, another of my Nana’s favourites – but it’s exactly what I’ve needed this week, a bit of fun and some respite from the emotional intensity of last – I’m playing!

Going for Gold is made up of discarded objects. It’s laid out on the studio floor, ready and in preparation for Open Studios during the last weekend of the Deptford X arts festival, this coming Friday and Saturday. In line with the Olympic Games currently taking place in London, the piece is all about celebrating; while the world’s top athletes celebrate winning gold medals, I’m inviting an audience to celebrate their own personal achievements in other fields, to reward themselves or someone they know with a piece of gold from my assemblage of golden objects.

Unlike with past projects like 10 x10 and The Stock Exchange, I’m not asking people to leave anything in place of what they take; I’m asking them simply to take something away. I hope that as the Olympics 2012 comes to an end over the weekend and the crowds slowly disperse, so too will the assemblage of objects – depending of course on how much of an audience the Open Studios attracts.

It will be fascinating to see how an audience responds to being invited to take something for nothing as opposed to taking something in exchange for something else. The objects in this particular project aren’t promoted as being precious to me – and they’re golden, not gold. Their true, intrinsic value can only be found in the eye of the beholder; it’s the emotional associations people make with the objects that determines their real value and worth. I’m intrigued to see how it pans out – will people feel less comfortable about taking an object without being asked to leave some sort of token in its place? Or will being allowed to take them for free make it more difficult? Will the objects perhaps seem less attractive through being free?

I can but wait and see. For today, it feels good to be back on course. I have a holiday planned after this last burst of energy required for the Deptford X Open Studio weekend. I’m looking forward enormously after that to having the opportunity to take a break, to be able to stand back from my work and to look at my practice in terms of the bigger picture – how to continue to sustain it and essentially, keep it going.

I usually have a clear vision of what I want to say and the direction in which my thoughts will take me when I sit down to write these posts – this week is different. It’s been a week of extreme emotions and there’s been a significant shift in my focus. If writing this blog helps me in some way get back on course, then the answer to whether or not blogging helps or hinders my practice is, in this situation at least, obvious.

Experience has taught me that in order to get back on track with any kind of creativity, I need to get back to paying attention to what I’m doing and get myself grounded again; back to being focussed.

And so, honouring my commitment to writing this blog is a first step in trying to do that; this blog after all, is about keeping it going.

That said, it’s clearly not always easy to stay on course, especially when there’s been some sort of disturbance or disruption as there has been for me this past week, one which is too hard to talk about openly. My mind’s been elsewhere for a lot of the time and the flow of things has been interrupted. I’ve hesitated many times about posting here this week, wrestling with the question: what do I feel comfortable with being made public versus what do I prefer to keep to myself? Do I indeed, need to say anything at all? It’s that old familiar dilemma.

On the basis that this blog acts as a place to record both the highs and lows of my artistic practice, however, it would feel strange to simply ignore the fact that in the days since last posting on here, something bad happened; something that knocked me completely sideways – I’m still reeling slightly from the impact. I don’t want to go into the details, but suffice it to say that, in the course of doing someone a favour, some accidental damage occurred, for which I felt at least partly responsible. The person involved has been incredibly kind and forgiving – I however haven’t found it quite so easy to forgive myself!

Over the years of following other artist/bloggers on this site, I’ve read many of them discussing how difficult writing about the real truth can be. What’s said is said in a wide-reaching public domain and fear of perhaps offending or betraying the trust of college tutors, employers, colleagues or even other studio group members is an expressed concern. There’s a tendency towards skirting around certain issues and the whole truth’s never quite revealed; deemed too risky and potentially detrimental to an artist’s professional practice.

My focus is now on getting back on track and concentrating my thoughts on the positive things that have arisen out of this particular incident. As things have turned out, my inherent faith in humanity has yet again survived intact in spite of the most difficult of circumstances.

I believe that most people are essentially decent and good and that such people tend to gravitate towards each other and act in each other’s best ethical interest. I’m delighted to see the things I fundamentally believe in playing themselves out so positively and if I am to continue to promote my work as being primarily about the wonders of humanity, then it only feels right to write about it here. Humanity yet again has proved itself to me to be a wonderful force for good.

Back to that Lemonhead’s song, then – I know a place I can go when I’m alone. Into your arms, into your arms. I can go. I’ve found my place amongst some artists who are decent, sincere and have great integrity; are sensitive, generous and kind as well as fiercely protective and supportive. It’s a wonderful environment in which to thrive creatively and despite the disaster that occurred this past week resulting in me feeling utterly crushed, I know that the hub I’ve become a part of is a place that’s conducive to surviving bad things happening. I feel nurtured and supported by my peers and I feel very lucky; I’m in good hands – especially for the future of Keeping It Going, in what feels like all senses of the word.

The last post on here was all about vermin and I concluded with writing about the irony of ‘rat’ being an anagram of ‘art’ – the rat ate my art!

I’ve just had confirmation through of the dates to take part in Coastal Currents, a contemporary arts festival in Hastings, East Sussex this coming September. It was a welcome piece of news following the whole sorry rat saga and there’s irony too, in the fact that the work that’s been selected happens to be my 10×10 Project.

Because 10 x10 was inspired by a rat! – true! A pack rat, in fact – a small North American mammal which has a habit of taking things but leaving something in its place.

10×10 was originally launched in 2008 for the Deptford X arts festival and was created in response to a call for art around the theme of trade and currency. I gave up 100 objects that all had some meaning for me, were precious to me in one way or another and invited the public to respond to them as part of the 10×10 exchange project. What is an object worth to you I asked? How much do you want it and what are you prepared to give in return?

More can be read about 10×10 on my website here:http://www.katemurdochartist.com/ten_by_ten.html

I’m really happy to be given the chance to resurrect 10×10; it’s turned out to be a fascinating project and taking it to Hastings will be the fifth time it’s been displayed for the public to interact with. When I first talked about the idea I had for the project, a friend’s response was that it would be a ‘comment on humanity.’ It’s certainly been that; humanity’s come out of it pretty well so far, too – very much as I thought it would – and I’m already intrigued to see how the people of Hastings will respond. Rather better than the common London sewer rat, I suspect who showed no hint of kindness or benevolence – taking away some of my art materials but leaving only droppings and urine in its place.

But onto more positive things … if you happen to be in the Hastings area on Saturday, September 22^nd then do please come along and see and take part in 10×10 for yourself. You can visit the new Jerwood gallery at the same time, have fish & chips by the sea and celebrate some late summer sun.

Timing is everything; I’d just been wondering about how much of this week’s activities I wanted to share on this blog when I came across one of Eleanor McArdle’s posts on ‘I’ve Been Told To Write a Blog.’ www.a-n.co.uk/p/2273788/

A conversation has started between Eleanor and another artist/blogger, Franny Swann about how much we ‘ought’ to share about ourselves, as artists – in public. Eleanor raises an important question: by uploading our ‘every thought’ she asks, are we ‘diluting the artistic narrative?’ It’s an interesting debate.

I‘ve always been conscious of not wanting to write for the sake of it and the old adage ‘If You Don’t Have Anything Worth Saying, Don’t Say Anything At All’ springs to mind; on the other hand, we’re all at liberty not to engage with the blogs and just like with twitter, have a choice of whether to follow or not.

I’m a great believer in sharing the truth as a rule but this past week has involved a certain matter that I’ve been feeling reticent about revealing. Something’s prevented me from hitting the publish button on this recent post, one of the reasons being that what I have to share is a little unsavoury….

… because it’s primarily about vermin – rats, to be precise; rats who have recently infiltrated and wrecked some of my art materials I’ve had stored in the garden shed. I’ve shared my dilemma with some other artists I know and the shudders, the looks of disgust on their faces says it all, really – I don’t blame them! Because rats are vermin = dirt = unhealthy =sewers = fear. I could go on.

I’ve been keen to emphasise my use of rubber gloves, the disinfectant, the scrubbing clean sessions – everything in fact that might convince people that I’ve taken this rat elimination business very seriously; that I’m aware of how abhorrent these creatures can be and the diseases they’re capable of transmitting.

But I still feel slightly unclean, not to mention a little paranoid that people might think that I live in filthy conditions at home – it’s the lot of many collectors, the fantasy others have about us that we all live a Collyer Brother kind of existence – eccentric and more’s to the point, in filth and squalor. It’s just not true!

And of course there are always certain issues that people just don’t want to know about. It’s not for nothing that the definition of rats and vermin include the words ‘pest’ and ‘nuisance.’

So, what’s to do? Gloss over last week’s activities and pretend they didn’t happen? Just present the ‘prettied up’ version of life as an artist and leave aside the real version of what for me, this past week, has been very grim indeed?

To return to Eleanor’s question: ‘How much of ourselves should we, as artists, expose to the public?’ And, as Franny asks: Do we feel inclined/pressured into editing ‘all the difficult and hard bits out?’ I don’t have any hard and fast answers. I just know that I’d like to portray as honest a picture as I can of my day to day practice as an artist.

But we’re hampered by constraints as Franny points out and it’s not always easy (or sometimes even possible) to tell the truth. Whether or not sharing too much information will be detrimental remains to be seen – for me, personally though, it’s as if somehow, writing from the heart will see me through.

I had the choice of course, of not sharing anything at all about the recent rat invasion – but the materials the rats destroyed are my work – and that’s pertinent to my practice.

Pertinent, too is the fact that the word ‘rat’ is an anagram of ‘art.’ This week I had to face up to a very sad truth – the rat(s) had eaten a part of my art.