Learning to Think Like an Artist

This week the Diva told us how she accidentally picked up a red pen in the middle of creating a black and white Zentangle tile. She challenged herself to push past her first reaction of "It's ruined!" and to keep going to see what would happen. Allowing herself that freedom of exploration, she ended up creating one of her favorite tiles.

From that grew Diva Challenge #272, where we are asked to add some red to the traditional black and white motif, to have fun, and to leave some room for exploration.

I started my tile this week by exploring a new to me technique for shading using hatching strokes with my ink pen. I used a very smooth bristol paper for this tile, which really let my pen flow over the paper with a minimum of drag. Delicious!

work in progress
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016

Next I added some graphite shading, which is a whole new experience on such a smooth paper. The first layer of 2H graphite went down so smooth and buttery it felt like cheating! 

But after that I struggled a bit with my HB layer. I am used to having much more tooth to the paper. There is a learning curve, to be sure. But I followed the Diva's example, and I kept going to see what would happen. Then lastly, it was time to add that pop of red. Wow!

Groovy, Narwhal, Inapod, Ruutzfor Diva Challenge #272
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016

I wanted to keep up this spirit of exploration when I was working on my tile for the It's a String Thing Zensquicentennial Challenge, so I picked up that coal black drawing paper and my white gel pen and headed back into unfamiliar territory. I can see myself making progress with each new pancake!

IZA, Teenos, and Uncorked
for It's a String Thing Zensquicentennial Challenge
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016

We've all heard people talk about the power of positive thinking and keeping an open mind. When the Diva resisted that first reaction to the accidental addition of red into her black and white tile, she made a conscious choice to keep going and see what would happen. She was thinking like an artist.

I like this list from the Amphitheater Art Instructors' Blog about learning to think like an artist:



I think the ideas on this list can be applied to so many parts of our lives, not just when we sit down to draw or paint. So the next time you take on a challenge, will you think like an artist?

Artist Burn Out and Loosening Up

This blog is primarily about my journey to learn art-making in adulthood and I've talked  a bit about using focused practice to build skills. But what do you do when focus seems impossible and practice sounds tedious and boring?

What happens when you burn out?

I was just chatting online with a fellow artsy friend who was feeling down and uninspired. She was still drawing and keeping up with group art challenges, but it felt like a slog. She didn't like the way her work was turning out, though the rest of the group saw wonderful passages in every piece and a new fluency overall in her technique.

I could absolutely relate. I've been there. SO many times.

As zen as Zentangle can be, the intense, up-close focus on tiny, tight, little details can get mentally wearing.

Two small drawings less than 5 inches square, with fineliner Micron pen for size.

We spend so much of our lives focused on the space right in front of us, heads tipped down, shoulders drawn forward and in, chest closed, breathing shallow as we drive, use our phones, read a book, work on our computers, chop veggies and cook...

Even the way we hold our pencil when we write -- close to the tip, upright, almost entirely controlled by fingers and wrist. And it's more of the same when we use technical drawing pens like the Pigma Microns for Zentangle.

Upright hand position, close to nib, used for drawing with technical pens.

Our bodies need moments and movements of expansion to counteract all that time spent in contraction. Our bodies and our brains need us to look up, gaze at far off objects, open arms wide, and take deep, full breaths that re-light the fire in the belly. 

Our art needs the moments of expressiveness that come from larger arm movements using elbow and shoulder. It needs us to step back from the paper or canvas for a wider perspective on ourselves and our world. 

And it doesn't hurt that our art benefits from the cross-body movements that activate more of our brains. In fact, according to artist and educator Dan Nelson, the part of your brain that controls your arm is a better artist than the part that controls your fingers.

So when I'm feeling sluggish and uninspired, when focus seems unattainable, or when the brain fog sets in from being in the highly focused zone of minute detail for too long:

I need to stand up, 

get out juicy color and fat brushes, 

use larger arm movements, 

and loosen up for a while.

One of my favorite contemporary painters, Robert Burridge, talks a lot about loosening up in painting and letting the art viewer see just how much fun it is to be an artist. In fact, he has entire books and DVDs on loosening up as a painter.

So if you're feeling burned out, shift your body to shift your outlook. Stand up, throw your arms out wide, lift your eyes, and breathe deeply. Try something different and make it about play, about experimentation, about adventure, and looking outward, and discovery.

Make art with your whole body.

Painting work table with an array of paints and a work in progress.

Tea for Two #1
acrylic on paper
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016

Stuck? Mix it up!

I've posted before about the benefits of participating in group art challenges where the challenge constraints help you achieve focused practice. When my choices are limited to a subject or a style, I'm pushed to really consider how I can make something unique, how I can really make it mine, and how I can use the challenge as an opportunity to grow as an artist.

The main philosophy behind The Zentangle Method® is cultivating a calm, meditative state through the mindful repetition of simple shapes that build naturally into ornamental patterns.

there are no mistakes

There are no mistakes when drawing this way, only opportunities to witness what shows up, to accept each unexpected visitor that appears, and to allow these surprises to inform the process.

When I participate in a group art challenge like It's a String Thing Challenge #147, I want to hold space for the mindful awareness that sees no mistakes, only opportunities. At the same time, I want to commit to pushing myself somewhere new with my art. 

I looked at the string. I looked at the tangles. My brain jumped immediately to an obvious "solution" to the puzzle of what should go where. And yet, I wasn't excited about it.

Worse than that, I was disconnected, bored. Maybe I should skip the challenge this week, I thought. I mean, I didn't want to just dial it in. That would be a waste of an opportunity and the time available to me to work on my art is too precious to me for that. But I didn't want to give up either. I felt stuck. I had artist block. Then I remembered:

resistance is a message

When we feel resistance to taking some action in our life, we are getting a message from our subconscious: Yield, Proceed With Caution. It can be a protective instinct, a warning, a fear of failure or being vulnerable, or even just a signal to pause, reflect, and connect with what you really need and want.

I realized that what I really needed was to flip the script for myself and try something that would take me more into the unknown.

drawing tools for black paper
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016

So I dug out my black drawing paper and my white pens and pencils. Suddenly a composition that wasn't inspiring me in predictable black ink on white paper felt like a whole new adventure. 

I still used the predetermined composition and patterns in pretty much the same way my brain originally devised, but by reversing the colors: I would have to use chalk instead of graphite, my value scale would go from dark to light instead of my usual light to dark, and I would have to think in terms of highlights instead of shadows.

Everything was inside out.

Time to experiment and see what happens. I felt connected to what I really wanted and need out of this art practice, and suddenly it was exciting again!

Reverse
mixed media on paper
Julie Bazuzi (c)2016