A Retrospective

I stood in front of a previous life at the weekend. An arts nonprofit I used to be involved with had a sixteenth birthday party and my art was part of a retrospective exhibition.¹ It was weird seeing old work. It brought back memories of how I was feeling at the time and what I hoped to achieve. It also reminded me of how good I was at textile art and why the heck did I stop. Oh yes, the old I want to be a painter chestnut.²

I used to make a lot of abstract work like this:

this piece is from 2018 when I was working with plant pigments and encaustic wax

I had a phase (years) of being obsessed with making my own dyes and paints from foraged plant materials. I used to splash them over large sheets of watercolour paper, letting the pigments dance with each other to create organic forms and lines. I then found a way of priming canvas so it would hold the pigments and sealed them using encaustic wax. It was fun. Freeing. Totally uncontrollable though.

When everyone and their dog jumped on the foraged plant pigments train, I needed to pivot. I also craved more control over the process and really, really, wanted to centre drawing in my practice. So I started making my own inks - just thickened plant pigments - which enabled me to use a dipping pen and I fell in love with sooty sticks of charcoal.

a series of drawings with inks and plant pigments, late 2018

I stitched onto some of the drawings too:

late 2018 with my trusted friend Betsy

And I worked like this for years, blending plant pigments with drawing and stitch and teaching others how to do the same.

flyer for a workshop 2019

Workshops became a significant part of my business. I decided to open a small studio/gallery space to grow the teaching side of my practice and found the perfect location. I signed the contract December 2019. The pandemic hit Spring 2020, just after I’d had the official opening party. Yeah, I have great timing!

I was stuck with paying the rent while not being able to open to the public. My art changed. It had to. I couldn’t teach workshops so I had to find a way of making art that would be an ‘easy’ sell. Of course, there is no easy sell in the art world, but I knew local art buyers loved muted tones, abstract works, surface texture, and that’s what I delivered to them. I began creating thick, gloopy paints from my pigments, brushing them onto canvas strips and assembling patchwork-like works by gluing the canvas onto board.

natural pigment oil paints on canvas on board. i made quite a few pieces like this that sold really well. i then got bored of making them!

i loved this piece but it never sold. i think i should have framed it but i didn’t have the money at the time. i think it got trashed ;( this is an old Instagram post

The more I painted, the more I wanted to break out of painting blocks and try creating more figurative works. I became frustrated with my lack of knowledge of the technical skills of painting and yearned to become a ‘proper’ painter.

drawings of goddess forms over my natural pigment work. i used a clay-based paint, 2020

playing with painted forms taken from my dye works. i used handcrafted oil paints here. 2020

By the beginning of 2021 I was done with the studio and done with my earlier 'splash the pigments about’ kind of art. I wanted to paint. And I wanted to paint well. That meant I had to take a hiatus from making my own paints - the process took far too long - visit the art store and pick up tubed paints.

And that’s where I’ll leave this chapter of my retrospective.

---

All of this history went through my head as I stood looking at my old works in the exhibition. There is much I love about my old art. In some ways I wish I’d stuck with my natural pigments. I’ve always admired artists who dedicate their entire career to one concept but I’m no Sean Scully, I need pivots in my practice to keep me motivated - maybe that’s my ADHD?

It’s an interesting exercise to trace one’s creative history and document it. It’s important. Looking back at my photographs from 2018-2021 I saw I had portfolios of art that had never met a public eye. Many of the works now only survive as digital photographs, the physical pieces were torn up or re-assembled into new works.

Is it the same for you? Where did your creative practice start? What twists and turns has it taken?

I’d love to hear about your art journey.

I invite you to write a chapter of your art retrospective. Either pop it in the comments box or if you decide to write a blog or Substack post about your history, link it to me please so I can read. This is art memoir and it’s important.

from 2021 - don’t hide in a box!

More pivots are coming. Yesterday I lit a candle to mark Imbolc, a festival of hope and preparation for Spring; a reminder of the returning light and for me, returning creativity. I have a new art project that I’ll be delivering via Substack - more on that very soon. It’s all about birds but perhaps not in the way you might imagine. My history shows I’m a conceptual artist at heart. I pivot when my concept naturally evolves or when life nudges me towards a new direction. Right now, I feel I’m being shoved rather than nudged but I try not to hide in a box and allow my work to change in response to life.

I hope creativity is still with you or you see its light in the distance. May we be inspired by our art histories to move forward with courage and resilience.

With love

Jacqueline x

1. See my art at VALA Eastside, Redmond, WA

2. My Grandmother was a painter and I think I secretly want to be her