It’s been a while since I’ve written something, my every other week plan has become more like every other month. It’s a good lesson in extending grace to ourselves. This year has been off to a crazy start, especially with our recent government policies in the U.S. triggering an influx of work, particularly in updating language across educational materials.
The goal of writing these letters is really a way for me to process and attempt to put down on paper my artistic and design techniques as well as to jot down thoughts and approaches to creativity. I suppose it’s a live brain dump from a creative who’s tired of not having a solid answer to the question, “What made you choose art and design?”
“Great art is created through freedom of self-expression and received with freedom of individual interpretation. Great art opens a conversation rather than closing it.”
— Rick Rubin, The Creative Act
I had a conversation with a friend recently about whether there is a “proper” way to engage with art, and it’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Especially as I design book covers and begin creating my own work, there’s a tendency to think: Yes, there is. The viewer needs to take away exactly what I intended. I want them to listen to me, not me to them. I love the quote by Rick Rubin from his book, The Creative Act, and how he points out that great art is made up not just of the freedom of self-expression but also the freedom of the receiver’s thought. The honesty of both can create something magical and something entirely human.
When I’m creating artist’s books, it’s for me. Like most people, feelings of being invisible or unseen are all too common. Inserting myself where I tell myself I don’t belong, like on this platform here, writing this letter, is very uncomfortable. Yet, it’s important to understand that our voices are important and it is worth using. Our thoughts and feelings have value even we feel like no one sees or hears us.
I love to sing at home around the house, and recently I realized that when I was singing it was close to a whisper like I was afraid of disturbing those around me. But, I live alone. It’s silly to be afraid to sing in your own home. There was liberation in belting out Les Mis while washing dishes. In the same way, there’s freedom and liberation in letting your imagination, curiosity, and creativity run wild and free. Why place artificial limitations when you’re creating for yourself? It’s daunting and intimidating, we want what we make to be great and perfect, when really, we should be setting ourselves free. As I finish books, I publish some online or show them to friends. Seeing their interpretation and reactions is so much fun to see. Sometimes there’s confusion, sometimes apathy, but mostly, very kind remarks. Seeing how people respond, when having no expectations, creates a beautiful moment that helps me value what I’ve made even more.
It can feel like there’s a “wrong” way to engage with art—when someone seems disinterested or doesn’t take it seriously. But that’s the beauty of art: a single piece becomes something different for everyone. That makes creating both scary and exciting. What will I say through my art? And how will others respond?