I’ve just finished my latest art project in my sophomore year art class and I have never been more proud. The colors, the composition, the story it tells, everything is perfect. After weeks of work, it’s finally done and I am filled with relief and accomplishment. However, these positive feelings are short-lived as I am immediately hit with the anxiety that comes with starting something new.
Recess was my favorite in lower school. I could not wait to have 45 minutes of free time to create. Whether it was tracing my hand and transforming the outline into various animals, or drawing countless doodles of Otis, my dog, each recess brought something new and my mind was a treasure trove of shiny brand new ideas.
I’ve realized inspiration can be found anywhere: the pattern on my pencil case, the story my friend told me this morning, the shapes the ocean waves make, the lights hung outside of my favorite restaurant, the different people at the ravens game I went to last Sunday.
I sit in silence, pressured by the fact that I need to come up with something and it needs to be original. Something that has never been done before but is also interesting. Somehow, it needs to be perfect. Ok, let me think. I guess it should be based on something that I’m passionate about. Climate change? Yeah, definitely not. that's like the most overdone theme ever. Okay, what else am I passionate about? Of course, nothing pops into my head. It's ironic that I feel like my mind is always moving 100 miles per hour cluttered with thoughts but the minute I need just one idea my brain feels like a deserted ghost town void of inspiration. I stare at the paintbrush in my hand and I have never felt more stuck.
One day in 2nd grade, Mrs. Lewis was finishing up that days social studies lesson when inspiration struck. I spotted the basket in the corner of the room filled with scraps of yarn. I decided it was my mission to come in every day and tie each one around the other thus creating a giant yarn ball. I recruited my best friend, Summer, and we went to work. We realized our creation probably also needed a title. We decided on a hybrid of our names that would work best and just like that, SuMi was born.
I step back and take a deep breath as I evaluate the assignment. Mrs. Devane has tasked us with creating an assemblage: assembling objects together into a collage-like piece. I went home that day and went up to my childhood room. To me, childhood and creativity are synonymous.
My childhood object-themed assemblage is still my favorite sculpture to this day.
The definition of assemblage is a collection or gathering of things or people. For me, inspiration has the exact same definition. Although I find myself struggling with artists-block often, it’s not that I grew out of my creativity, rather I just forgot to look outside of myself to spark it. My inspiration never disappeared, I just forgot where to look for it.
Recess was my favorite in lower school. I could not wait to have 45 minutes of free time to create. Whether it was tracing my hand and transforming the outline into various animals, or drawing countless doodles of Otis, my dog, each recess brought something new and my mind was a treasure trove of shiny brand new ideas.
I’ve realized inspiration can be found anywhere: the pattern on my pencil case, the story my friend told me this morning, the shapes the ocean waves make, the lights hung outside of my favorite restaurant, the different people at the ravens game I went to last Sunday.
I sit in silence, pressured by the fact that I need to come up with something and it needs to be original. Something that has never been done before but is also interesting. Somehow, it needs to be perfect. Ok, let me think. I guess it should be based on something that I’m passionate about. Climate change? Yeah, definitely not. that's like the most overdone theme ever. Okay, what else am I passionate about? Of course, nothing pops into my head. It's ironic that I feel like my mind is always moving 100 miles per hour cluttered with thoughts but the minute I need just one idea my brain feels like a deserted ghost town void of inspiration. I stare at the paintbrush in my hand and I have never felt more stuck.
One day in 2nd grade, Mrs. Lewis was finishing up that days social studies lesson when inspiration struck. I spotted the basket in the corner of the room filled with scraps of yarn. I decided it was my mission to come in every day and tie each one around the other thus creating a giant yarn ball. I recruited my best friend, Summer, and we went to work. We realized our creation probably also needed a title. We decided on a hybrid of our names that would work best and just like that, SuMi was born.
I step back and take a deep breath as I evaluate the assignment. Mrs. Devane has tasked us with creating an assemblage: assembling objects together into a collage-like piece. I went home that day and went up to my childhood room. To me, childhood and creativity are synonymous.
My childhood object-themed assemblage is still my favorite sculpture to this day.
The definition of assemblage is a collection or gathering of things or people. For me, inspiration has the exact same definition. Although I find myself struggling with artists-block often, it’s not that I grew out of my creativity, rather I just forgot to look outside of myself to spark it. My inspiration never disappeared, I just forgot where to look for it.
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