Today, as I mentioned last week, I am out counting birds. Until I return next week (with a new post sharing my observations about AI-generated art), I’m sharing the following Valentine’s post from my Patreon page in which I consider my current art practice within the context of this simple Swatch.
A Valentine's Day Swatch, 2.001
Happy Valentine's Day - in whatever form a day dedicated to love may take.
For myself, I am starting the day off by celebrating love with a finished swatch - what I'm calling Swatch 2.001 (for the first swatch completely done for my second attempt, aka series 2, of swatching).
To honor the moment, I'm making my first entry to note the occasion in a separate journal dedicated to these series 2 swatches - nothing profound, but a collection of thoughts to accompany the piece.
Swatch 2.001, 2-14-23
"This piece, fittingly for Valentine's Day is filled with love. From the many little triangles of color depicting the passage of time with their variations stitched beginning at the foot of an ocean on a secluded Wailua beach nearly 1 year from the day to the cherished embroidered fabric donated to my project by a friend - I hold this piece and am overtaken by sweet memories and future possibilities. I hold a kite, built with love, and release it to the wind."
My hope is that each finished page will link to the next (via tabs, as created with this particular swatch), and will then become a swatched visual journal.
These pieces are my safe space to learn, grow, and explore. I expect mistakes as I practice skills. I expect them to progress slowly as I stumble upon and around new materials. I currently have no deadlines or desires other than to experience the process and write the thoughts associated with it.
This type of art-making is not an easy space for me to occupy.
I'm used to making art for deadlines (either external or self-made) and to market for sale. It's hard for me to consider something my "work" when it has neither of these qualities. I keep drifting into thoughts of this being an indulgent and privileged depiction of what is my profession.
I recently ran into an artist I know who, like me, spent most of their career selling art at festivals and shows. Since we follow each other online and run into each other now and again, I was surprised by a question he posed - Am I still making art? And while I understand his perspective as a fellow booth artist and know his intention had nothing to do with how I took the question - it still made me pause.
I know I've said this before, but I feel eternally grateful that my past paintings and loyal subscribers continue to provide income for me, which has allowed me this space to think about my art career in new ways. Most artists I've seen pursuing art for art's sake are either required to (or want to) be ensconced in academia, pursue another career to make it work (on the side), or are established enough to be funded for non-commercial art and/or art installations in other ways than the traditional art market. As someone who is severely uncomfortable teaching (yes, I did receive a K-12 certificate in my youth which did not get used for teaching), already had a different career with no desire to return to that stressed and chaotic life, and have no prior experience with creating art for installation purposes - I am indeed very lucky to have the art income I do.
Honestly? With my constant start and re-starts of the ideas and concepts I want to pursue over these last three-plus years - day to day, I often feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and whether it is worthy of being called a profession. My progress changes on a whim. My art-making seems to result in very little that is "finished". I have opportunities that come and go for which I can not seem to fulfill the vision for what I need to apply. I have been filled with constant doubt. For years.
But I have also come to know - that's ok. That can be a valuable space to explore, share, and experience. It can provide context and meaning in ways I never would have thought before I started down this path.
If I pull back the scope of my vision and look beyond this day, week, year, or even decade - I see a world of possibility. I see my future, blurred in uncertainty yet filled with hope. And it is definitely surrounded by purpose-filled art, even if it's of the type that needs more time and thought than I've ever given to my art before with no place to go but in boxes underneath my studio table.
It's all in the perspective from which I view my progress.
And so today, when I looked for a photo of this piece when it was started, I felt nothing but an abundance of love for the place I began almost exactly one year ago on February 13, 2022, on the Hawaiian island of Kuai to the place I have come here today draped in a surprise dusting of glistening snow in my neighborhood this morning.
Whether a coincidence or a sign, I find beauty in the fact that this piece, the first to be finished in my second attempt at this Swatch Journal series, started and ended with such beauty and love on Valentine's Day.
I couldn't ask for a more fitting way to restart this journey.
Wishing you all love and beauty in unexpected places.
Sincerely,
~ Jennifer