How to un-sink a ship

What songs do we sing at rock bottom? Escaping the Imposter syndrome and Artistic Despair.

The general sentiment of this zeitgeist we’re in, is that we all seem to be on different kinds of sinking ships. Some of us are stepping onto lifeboats, some are singing on the way down… leaning into their turmoil, and others are learning how to swim. I’ve been singing all the way down, until I remembered this is like… actually something I have control over???

I don’t want to learn to swim or step onto a lifeboat, because I would be abandoning my ship. I don’t want to lean into the dread and yuckiness! I want to un-sink my ship. So, I’ve been travelling through the imposter syndrome and art block soup, and I bring back learnings from my travels.

Turns out, the first step to un-sink a ship is to figure out why it’s sinking.

In my life, my ship that was sinking was the deep feeling of being behind, not good enough, and a failure as an artist. It got so bad I was starting to think that my entire degree had been some kind of Truman show joke… that my master’s degree with First Class Honours wasn’t because I was good at what I do but was a complete and utter fluke- the markers must have been having a stroke and clicked the wrong button. I was so convinced that everything I produced was worthless and bad and there was no cure I just wasn’t actually cut out to be an artist.

My next step (or somewhat half step) was to figure out where the leak in my ship was coming from. For me in my ship, a large contributing factor was the failed paintings that were sat on my window in the studio, mocking me and dampening my visual intake. I’ve always hidden my successful paintings once they’re done - the quickest way to get disheartened is to be surrounded by successes and not be able to replicate them (once again layering on the imposter syndrome). What I hadn’t considered was the negative effects of surrounding myself by the fails as well.

The second step to un-sinking a ship is to remove the cause.

In Becks Land (beccland?) this looked like spending the first part of my studio day painting white over every single painting I’ve produced this year. Extreme? maybe. but hell was it effective.

Immediately there was a lightness in studio I had not felt in a while. An aura of unburdened unbotheredness. The most fantastic place to make art from!

(please ignore the quality of the photo - I tried to add the satisfying video for you but wix said no)

The third step to un-sink a ship, is to be so fucking for real with yourself (and you’re going to need a journal)

I did a little exercise that gave me clarity and helped me pick down to the little bone that was poisoning my creativity.

I split a sheet of paper in quarters, and titled each corner with the following:

• Who am I jealous of?

• Why am I jealous of them specifically?

• If I could snap my fingers, how would I change my art?

• What affect do I wish my art had?

  
  

Jealousy can feel really rotten to hold onto, but it can be such a powerful compass for our true desires. Following these prompts gave me some super actionable next steps and valuable reflection that meant I was intentionally mark making, not throwing paint at a canvas and hoping for some miracle to happen.

Immediately after doing this, I made better art. I realised what my work had been missing and set off on another painting. I made this initial smaller sketch painting and learned a lot from it -especially the way that being too lazy to remix the blue and just adding more water gave me the most beautiful texture!

Whilst there’s another studio day in front of me yet, I finally feel like I have my feet on solid ground. One of the biggest pieces of advice I ever got from my supervisors at uni, was that you never finish a studio session with a finished painting. Always walk away with something half done. It means you don’t waste half of your next studio session figuring out what to do - you get straight in and finish the work, once you finish, you’ll have new ideas and new things to respond to.

I may have successfully un-sunk my ship for now, but just because it’s not sinking doesn’t mean I can walk away and call it a day. The next endeavor is to learn how to sail… but for now we rest because un-sinking a ship is exhausting. (but not as exhausting as being on a sinking one) There’s a pride in saving a sinking ship, a resilience it adds to the creative endeavor that gives me confidence for next time it happens.

I love you all and I really hope this one doesn’t resonate (I hope my creative friends are thriving!) but just in case you’re also on a sinking ship - this one is for you <3