How much can Napisan fix? How much are you supposed to cry over a break up? How much time looking at homewares in K-Mart and IKEA are you allowed to do without being classified as insane? Asking for a friend. Artists of all descriptions have this really special ability to dive really deep into their feelings. And quite often the more upsetting ones are the ones we dwell on and sit with. Heartache is good for nothing but the arts. We create the most from our sadness. On top of that though, there's love . It's pretty fucking dreamy and nice and joyous and exciting (and terrible on your nerves) and distracting and liberating. It's also a great feeling to explore as an artist. A lot of people will create floaty, flowery pieces of work to celebrate love. Me included. However a couple of months ago I birthed this piece of work. Here she is. In all her angry, aggressive, agonising glory.
I never felt close enough bracketed in your arms So I worked myself a place under your tongue and between your ribs Crawled inside of you. Hands in your hair, fingernails gripping into flesh – Choked by the need to live between your bed sheets Suffocated by you. I swallowed down the words that made their way up my throat like sick, I let blood and tears and sweat come out of me – (I fucking hate running but I ran every day for four months to get my feelings for you out of me through my pores) But the only thing that made sense for us was language (sometimes). Each day I'd sit in a classroom and make up stories and all of them were about you. (I kept a dictionary next to my bed for a year to find new ways to explain love and heartbreak.) We wrote letters and tried to make metaphors but nothing was enough Nothing was good enough for you Everything was too much for you so I tried to make a home for you Between pa...
When I need advice about art (whether your art is digital, on-the-page-with-a-paintbrush, the written word, what to wear with ‘mom jeans’, or how to hold an E chord on ukulele without a hand cramp), I turn to the internet. As with many artists, I don’t have a mentor. I’ve had plenty of teachers and have plenty of artistic inspirations, but having and finding someone who can answer all your questions and give you advice (even when you don’t ask) is seemingly impossible. I have questions about scanners and felt tip pens and how to increase your vocabulary without reading the dictionary and how to structure poems online. In one day. It goes on. The trained professionals – ones who have degrees and years of creative success – are interviewed or willingly write essays for publications on ‘ HOW TO: be an artist and also a functioning human. ’ Despite how helpful the wisdom these creative give, they’re always looking back and reflecting on what it was like to be my age o...
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