From Isolation to Creation

Last week I packed up my art studio and moved it to an extra room in my fiance's house. With four months left before we marry, it is time to start moving my things into the home we will share as husband and wife. What a jump this was for me! To share my art studio with someone else countered all the romantic images I always had of an isolated studio removed from people (i.e. distractions). To my surprise, letting people have space in my artwork became the fastest track to my art's growth.

To share my art studio with someone else countered all the romantic images I always had of an isolated studio removed from people (i.e. distractions). To my surprise, letting people have space in my artwork became the fastest track to my art's growth.

I was surprised that sharing my art with people helped my art grow because ever since I was a kid I stereotyped an artist as someone who created in isolation. I have no idea where this stereotype came from. Perhaps it came from the dumb notion that artists are tortured and starving souls lost in the world. Regardless of the stereotype's origin, it was torture for me. In college, I struggled to work on art assignments outside of class because I felt I was missing out on opportunities for relationship. While my friends would pull all-nighters studying together in the dorm or library (with snacks, of course), I was tucked away in the art studio on the opposite side of campus by myself (with no snack). It was inconvenient to lug around half-finished wet paintings to complete my artwork with my friends, but you can bet I tried every trick to make it work. If you imagine me filling up cups from the college cafe with water from the library bathroom for my paintbrushes, you will start to understand my desperation. I wanted to bond, darn it!

Despite my desperate attempts in college to join my friends studying, I often forgot my deep thirst for community in my efforts to develop my art. Doing so backfired. Our personalities are multi-faceted; when we focus on developing only one part of our personalities, it bears less fruit. This lesson became most evident post-college. I was living in the city in an adorable studio loft where I had plenty of space to let my creative juices run wild, but I produced nothing -- literally nothing. I was living alone in a new city far from any friends or semblance of community. Looking back now, I realize my romanticized image of an isolated artist robbed me of two things that bring me joy: relationships and art itself.

Our personalities are multi-faceted; when we focus on developing only one part of our personalities, it bears less fruit.

Letting people have space in my artwork is what I needed all along. A couple days ago I painted in my new studio while my fiance, Frank, sat with me playing the accordion. I had so much fun! Finally my art (and I) could breathe. I learned that whatever we hold onto in isolation will certainly die. Alternatively, whatever we let breathe in the context of relationship will bear fruit. Love is creative because God, the first creator, is love. How can you give people space in your life today?

...whatever we let breathe in the context of relationship will bear fruit. Love is creative because God, the first creator, is love.

P.S. I love you, Frank. Thank you for freeing my dreams to grow through your love.