I feel like my most recent body of artwork is nearing completion and will soon be ready to share with the world. Right now, I’m on the hunt for the perfect venue, and I’m hopeful that I can secure something for a Spring or early Summer exhibition. I find that I work much like fashion designers—always looking ahead to the next season and the next showcase. Once I’ve created the work and released it from my mind, I can then move on to new ideas that have been quietly brewing in the deep recesses of my brain.
One of the most awkward and uncomfortable aspects of my process is promoting my exhibition after the work is finished. I’d much rather dive back into creating more, but without putting myself out there, no one would see my art, and none of it would sell and my studio would be rammed with even more artwork. This is where the internal tug of war begins—doubting whether my work is good enough, whether anyone will actually like it, and whether it will find a buyer. Yet, time and again, I’ve proved those doubts wrong, and now I have a regular, growing client base, which encourages me and keeps me creating.
But that’s not really what I want to focus on today. I want to talk about where I find inspiration for a body of work. Inspiration often strikes in the most unlikely places. For example, I recently bought some scrap fabric from a charity shop in the most amazing shade of pink. My cat Matisse came and sat on it, and I quickly snapped a photo. The colour palette inspired me and filled me with excitement. Colour is something I’ve always understood intuitively. Playing with colours brings me so much joy, and it often reflects my mood or the period of life I’m in. Picasso had his blue period and then his red period. I can relate to Picasso, and I feel that I might be transitioning from my blue period into a pink one.
Lately, my work has been dominated by blues, turquoises, indigos, and greens—the cool side of the color spectrum but I feel a shift coming and have been looking to art history for further inspiration. The Fauvist artists like Matisse and Bonnard, the pastels of Odilon Redon, the colours and symbolism of Chagall, and the gold of Klimt—all of these artists have been circling back into my consciousness, much like a roundabout I keep returning to for guidance.
As an artist, I believe it’s crucial to remain as creative and innovative as possible. I don’t want to produce the same paintings over and over. While my paintings may differ from one to the next, I think there’s a recognisable thread that ties them together—whether it’s the light, the colour, or the subject matter. I often find that 60% of my process is spent sitting, musing, and thinking about what I’m going to create, 30% is spent playing with ideas, and the final 10% is the actual creation of the work.
My work is indeed a work in progress, and I believe that an artist should continue progressing and evolving throughout their entire life. When I look back at what I created 20 years ago, I admire some of it, but I can also see how much I’ve grown. I would hope so!
Sculpture drawing, Grays school of art, 1997.
It’s vital to me that my creative process remains open to inspiration and that these inspirations are constantly evolving.
I’m really looking forward to sharing this new body of work, which I’ve been developing over the last two years, even as new ideas are already bubbling up and taking shape in my mind.
Stay tuned for more information on the exhibition, and please spread the word to your friends, neighbors, and even strangers on the street!
To whet your appetite for my upcoming exhibition, here is a sneak peak of one of my new works. I am giving you lots of time to save your pennies!
Divine restoration, mixed media on rice paper scroll.
Love Jaclyn
x
Comments