can an artist with adhd slow down enough to say something?
Making art can help to focus a racing mind.
About six months ago, I decided to embark on a new adventure in art. The goal was to change course as an artist and create work that appealed to people outside my friend and family circles. I wanted my paintings to hang in a gallery. After some 30 years as an art teacher (mostly digital media at the high school level), it was time to stop exploring countless possibilities in media and subject matter, something encouraged within a teacher's workflow, and buckle down for a concentrated deep dive into my observations of the world. Retirement from life as an educator meant that creative energies needed to move away from the hundreds of students whose work I constantly analyzed and curated, and instead focus on that most difficult of subjects; Me.
I've always had a problem with the 'I, me, mine' culture that is perpetuated by modern day commercialization. The selfishness runs counter to most of what I think is means to be a contributor to a larger cause, namely society itself. But turning the spotlight away from students and shining it back on myself meant that there was no choice but to investigate the 'self'. Creativity, if it were to be truly authentic, needed to become 'by' and 'for' me. A fear that people won't like the art and consequently, won't like me, lies beneath it all. According to most accounts of what it means to be an artist, my work needed to explore my responses to my perceptions to my world. Good art needs to be, selfishly or not, all about me. I'm still grappling with this realization. It shouldn't be about me. Do I not like me?
It is this discomfort with myself which has led to a lack of focus and commitment in my work. Technique and craftsmanship are skills which I have in my possession. What is lacking is a strong opinion about most things. I humbly acknowledge that 'ultimate truth' is beyond my grasp, so how am I supposed to convince viewers that my work is indeed valuable, that it says something important? Beneath my observations lies a belief that my opinion doesn't really matter. My art would not impact the world as we know it because it lacks the truth and emotional charge vital for art to be noticed and successful.
Cases in point
Below are a few of the directions in which retired life and my art intuition are directing expressive energies. I am creatively wandering and hoping something sticks long enough for a deeper dive while creating work that looks good enough for others to want to go along for the ride. Jack of all trades and master of none.
“Truck Train.” Digital photograph.
Reshaping the landscape, one truck at a time.
•Newlin Gulch: Some Sort of Photography Project A natural area right behind my house that is destined for development. I've spent the past month going on photo shoots in an effort to document how this landscape is being shaped to better meet the needs and aspirations of contemporary humans. I've always felt more a part of nature and her rhythms than those produced by people, so the thought of it makes me uncomfortable. But I'm a hypocrite because of my participation in this destructive system of (supposed) progress.
The benefit of these photo shoots, so far, has been my increased awareness of the surrounding environment. At its core, that's what I think the photographic medium is designed to achieve. Flight patterns of the nearby airport, schedules of dirt hauling trucks, sunrises and sunsets, and weather forecasts are all in play as I plan this project.
Here's the problem: I don't know what the project is. The plan was and still is, to go experience the space and let it direct me towards a culminating creative communication for others to consume and contemplate. We'll see........
Abstract in paper pulp, collage, and acrylics.
Experimentation and creative exploration.
• Mixed Media: Paper, Pulp and Paint: I've been encouraging my students to explore a variety of media since the early 90s. The problem here and now lies in my no longer teaching students. Now, I'm the student and teacher, and I'm often confused. I think that, after completing 25 abstract painted pieces with a direction not immediately revealing itself, I gave up on it and reverted to a comfort zone search of trying a new medium. I've become addicted to the exploration of materials, and that results in a lack of depth in what I express as a visual communicator. It's attention deficit on a personally epic scale. The results are persistent feelings of inadequacy and failure and long stretches of wasted time.
But is it really wasted time? I have to keep reminding myself that finding one's voice is a long and arduous endeavor. It's a process of elimination. Efficiency is a mode reserved for the designer, not the artist. Patience, Matt!
“Wandering.” Acrylic paint and chalk on paper.
Thoughts wandering through space. The challenge is in trying to straighten out the line for efficiency’s sake. But the joy is in the wandering.
• Abstraction and Pure Expression: Paint is great to play with. I adore the virtually limitless ways that painting can be used to manipulate texture, blending, lines, shapes, and space. But what do my abstract, painted compositions reveal about who I am and how I see the world? I have things to say, but does the audience understand what I'm saying? Are my paintings compelling enough to make you want to stop and take a closer look?
The permanency of visual arts is appealing. The ether of time is where words come and vanish. If an art statement is good enough to merit a second glance, it will remain in existence forever. And so lies the challenge: How can I develop a new visual language that is comprehended by a sizable enough audience who recognize the message and respect what it implies? After all, non-objective painting is more challenging than most people realize. In contrast to realism, there is no distinct benchmark by which to assess the degree of success. Modern abstraction follows its own set of norms, which is problematic for someone like me who likes to follow the rules.
The artist must think about the audience for whom they are painting in addition to producing understandable work. That is the significant leap of faith into the uncharted for me. I'm changing the audience for my paintings from my close friends and family to unidentified groups of people who are more knowledgeable and experienced in the field of art. On the surface, aiming for the approval of an informed audience seems terrifying. This path is rife with dangers. Getting the endorsement of a target audience that is more educated comes first. All kinds of artists compete for the favor of buyers, critics, galleries, and museums. It's a game with competition. The risk of wasting time is still another. The art market is seldom well-defined. It is perfectly possible—even probable—that the 30 or so paintings finished over the course of the last six months resulted in nothing deserving of acceptance, much less revenue. Right now, the focus is entirely on the exploration process. Take off!
