Art Collective.

So, I went to a meeting of artists today. A woman named Kim Villagante posted a message on Craigslist asking if any local artists wanted to get together to share ideas etc. I couldn't make the first meeting, but was able to be there tonight. We decided to call our collective the Main Street Art Collective.

It was the first time I had met with other artists. I think there are about 10 of us and all seem to have varying backgrounds, styles. During their first meeting they decided we'd do a group show which I'm looking forward to.

Anyway, the reason I'm blogging about it is because it brought my attention to the question, "What kind of art do you do?" I have been thinking about this a lot over the last few months because I've been transitioning back towards creating images that are more literal manifestations of whatever I'm going through (or have gone through) rather than more abstract. So.... going back to creating paintings like "Holes" or "Think Straight" and moving away from creating paintings like "Many" or "Pieces of Color 5". It's still expressionism, still self-taught and still amateur but is less abstract and more symbolic -- or illustrative, I suppose. I'm still attempting to somehow materialize my cognitions and emotions.

Going to the meeting was an interesting self-challenge. I have confidence in many areas of my life, but my art is not one of them. I seem to be rather insecure about everything I create. Instead, I would like to feel more settled or even proud of what I make.

When I'm insecure, I become preoccupied with my perception of what I believe other people will think. Or I use "Will this look good in someone's living room" to dictate colors, shapes, composition etc.

I first started drawing when I was about 9 I think. I used drawing combined with writing to express my thoughts and feelings. I would usually only write and draw when I was experiencing something upsetting. For example, I remember doing several stick man pictures with journal-like entries about my parents separation. It was an extremely difficult time that would impact our family greatly during the years that followed.

I also remember realizing the power of art when I came across a Van Gogh painting in one of my mom's Art History Books when I was about 13. At the time, I felt very alone in some of my experiences. But when I saw Van Gogh's colors, movement and intensity I realized I was not alone. For the first time I knew that even if I never related to anyone again, I could always relate to this guy. It created an important connection for me. And that moment was pivotal.

I never thought of myself as a writer or an artist (or even a creative person) until my adulthood. But I continued to write and draw as a way to work-stuff-out. I've since burned some of my journals/sketchbooks but still have about 20 of them stashed somewhere in the back of a closet.

There have been a few periods during my life that I almost solely relied on drawing or painting to survive. I mean that quite literally. Those periods were during times of great duress caused by intense emotions and images. They were during times when there simply were no words to describe or process what I was experiencing. Words didn't work because I wasn't fully developed enough to make any sense of the experience, didn't have the vocabulary to process it or because I needed more than mere words to process it.

One example is after my sister's death. I was very impacted by it and for a loooong time couldn't seem to "get it out of me". Or at least move through it. I felt a need work through it, but not being able to almost made it worse. So I turned to felt pens and oil pastels to create shapes and colors that seemed to provide me with a better sense of expression.

Is that art? I don't know. But it is what I intuitively do and will continue to do it whether it is art or not. None-the-less , I think it is an interesting question.