Stuart, the mechanic and all-round brilliant guy who is helping me with the pieces of the van build I can’t do alone is coming tomorrow. We are going to put the solar panels on the roof and I can’t wait to see them up there, glinting in the sun. Until then I have mostly been painting bits of my cupboards purple so there isn’t much to share. With that in mind I thought I would return to our conversation on creative play.
A few weeks ago I wrote about seeking inspiration, and the first steps I took in reminding myself how to play with ideas. The creative process is a type of alchemy, one that draws art from the depths of our minds and into the light of the world. You can’t simply jump from first concept to completed piece and expect to have made something of quality. Refinement and precision come from the time spent moving one’s ideas into the world, working on them, interrogating them, testing them. It is a process that takes time and one that often begins without making cohesive sense. You must be willing to pick ideas up, mess about, and put them down again without knowing exactly where it is leading. You must be willing to put the desire for refinement and quality to one side, because if you can’t, you will interrupt yourself and stop something before it can even begin.
That’s what I have been struggling with. I realised that I was stopping myself from playing because I was expecting quality even when I knew that it isn’t possible or helpful. After a firm talking to, I told the piece of my creative process that refines and sharpens my ideas to sit back and wait its turn. Then I got out paint and ink because these are not my mediums. I hoped that by working with materials I don’t use I would feel freer to simply play, to pull the beginning of an idea from the subconscious part of my imagination and start the alchemical process of giving it life.
Thankfully it seemed to work, and I spent the day happily drawing and making a mess.
Then I took my camera out because in playing with pastels and charcoals I’d had a realisation. This wasn’t the first day in recent weeks that I’d spent creatively playing. I’d been playing in the kitchen only days before. I’ve written a little about my Adventures in the Kitchen for paid subscribers, about the process of foraging and inventing, of spirituality and connection to the earth through food. Somehow, despite reflecting on it, I hadn’t drawn the line between my art and my food before. Having finally realised the connection I thought I would draw them even closer together by photographing some of the incredible edibles I have been foraging. I’m popping the film in the post today and can’t wait to see if they worked.
Between playing on paper, playing with dough and syrups, and playing with my camera I can feel that creative tingle that comes from beginning something new, the one that makes me want to get my hands dirty with clay and plaster. The alchemy has truly begun, let’s see where it leads.
Paid subscribers, read on for a few Photos from my Archives, the story behind them, and how they connects to the photographs I went to out to take yesterday!
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