The courage to share

As many of you know, I am in full swing preparing for my upcoming exhibition, "Our Golden Thread." It’s a time filled with a mix of excitement, nerves, fear, anxiety, pride, and joy. This body of work has been a long time in the making—two years, to be exact. The last two years have been filled with creating, exploring, and playing with the themes of fragility, the beauty of life, brokenness, and the hope of renewal, restoration, and repair.

Using symbols such as broken pottery, torn fabric, tablecloths, and divine help symbolised by birds, I finally feel as though I have completed this body of work and can now share it with the world. But, as with many artists, I struggle to put myself out there. To show art is to show a part of yourself, and that means risking people’s opinions, risking being seen, and facing the possibility of negative feedback.

It takes courage to share your song, your writing, or your artwork. Any creative venture takes courage, from being in the studio to advertising it to the public. You are in full view—your thoughts can be seen—and it’s something I always struggle with in the weeks before exhibiting. I suppose it comes down to being bold enough and courageous enough to share, and being willing to receive criticism. Everyone wants to be seen and understood; no one wants to be rejected. Artists are no different. Every new project feels like a risk, and questions like Will anybody come? Will anybody buy anything? Will anybody actually enjoy what I make? Will anybody be bothered? swirl around in my mind. But I feel that what’s the point of making artwork if I’m the only one who sees it? Creativity should be shared.

I listened to a podcast today, where Stephen Roach from The Breath and The Clay was speaking. He said, If you do something you love, love holds no fear. We should not be afraid, even if the worst happens and no one comes. You can still find joy and love in what you do. Stepping out of your comfort zone into the unknown is uncomfortable, and I’m sure I will have a few sleepless nights before the exhibition, but I think it’s important for any creatives out there—or anyone wanting to start something new, whether it’s a new job or a new career—to take the risk and have the courage to share our journeys with one another. After all, it’s our golden thread.

As an artist, I’ve had my fair share of rejection. You hear this all the time from actors: they suffer rejection after rejection until something clicks. I, too, have had people throw my artwork in the skip after donating it to them, never to be retrieved again. I’ve had cafes not return artwork, and I’ve even found some of my pieces in charity shops, which I then bought back because I valued what I had done.

But I’ve also had experiences where, after taking that risk, my artwork has really touched people. It has made them cry, given them a spiritual encounter, and healed parts of them emotionally. So, I suppose what we must do is have conviction in our ability, silence the doubt and fear, and take that risk. We must take the bold step to share with others, because we all have a voice, and we all have something to say. Not everyone will want to hear, and not everyone will look (in my case), but I don’t want to regret anything. So, I’m taking that step—ten years since my first solo show—and I am going to celebrate my achievements so far.

Moments and Memory , watercolour and pressed flower with gold leaf.