Finding Your Voice

It’s the crazy journey of finding out what everybody already knows about you.

In terms of your art, your voice is the style that is (or should be) recognisable to you regardless of whether your name is next to it or not.

Trust me, it’s a daunting task. It’s one that cannot be found overnight, and usually takes years and years of practice to develop. And that is the precisely the way to find your voice. The journey becomes the destination. Practice and then after a few months or years, take a look into the rear view mirror and notice if there’s any patterns you see.

This could be patterns in themes. What subjects have caught your attention, and in what periods of your life? Does your art reflect any transitions you are or were physically, mentally or spiritually swimming through?

The patterns could also be shapes. Are the type of shapes you are utilising traditionally feminine(circular and curvy) or traditionally masculine(sharp and angular).

There’s a possibility that the patterns could be found in the colours. Because this is a component of the art that has to be specifically chosen by the artist, you would think that this is a conscious choice. However sometimes it is not. For example, I’ve noticed my colours change slightly depending on the certain moment in my life.

All of these patterns are sometimes something artists intentionally create in their work, however many times the repetitive elements are something that is subconscious.

Have you found your voice yet? If you haven’t, get practicing!


Chasing The Gap When You’re Creating

What is in your mind?

What comes out on paper, Adobe Illustrator, or even on the sidewalk with chalk…it’s always different than what was in my mind. i have to admit it’s frustrating sometimes. I can imagine all day. And in fact, I do. 

Daily conversations I’m a part of or overhear on the tube, funny thoughts I might have in my head about certain situations, characters I witness around town that definitely look like extras in a movie…I’m constantly inspired to create (though I may not always act on this inspiration).

What I do isn’t always what the finished drawing looks like. Honestly most of the time it isn’t. But I like getting closer and closer to closing the gap between what I think up in my mind and what comes out of my fingers. It’s imperative to get comfortable with not producing exactly what you have in mind. 

 That is actually the reason I believe most people don’t continue drawing. Because they may imagine themselves creating something so realistic and so beautiful, and are ashamed when reality is not as nice as it is in their minds (this, by the way, applies to way more than simply drawing. It applies to life as a whole).  As a lifelong artist, I’ve experienced this countless times myself and understand the annoyance with your hands not being able to translate.

Learning to be okay with the gap by acknowledging that it exists, and all the while chasing it, is one of the greatest lessons that will allow you the freedom it takes just to start.  Without this, it is difficult, if not impossible, to have the motivation to create art again.