Uncategorized – DRAFT EXCLUDER

Time

July 5, 2024July 5, 2024 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

A couple of weeks ago I spent a full, entire week only going to my studio to work on my own work. I realised that this was the first time in my entire career that I had done this. I am 37. It is both a strange and not strange thing for a ‘professional’ artist like myself to say. Why have I never been able to do this before?

I think the TLDR here is everyone’s least favourite boogeyman: capitalism! I have to pay bills, and earn income to able to live and have the life that I want. At this point people might feel inclined to jump in and ask me why I’m not making enough money from my art practice to support myself… well, I don’t make enough of a stream of saleable work, and I am not of a level where I have gallery representation or enough of a profile to do so. Some years ago I went down the ‘productifying’ route for my work, and yeah, it was good for a time, but ultimately I made work I resented and didn’t feel like I was challenging myself beyond a need to churn things out because I was worried I would have a bare looking stall at events, or too many empty slots on my online shop. Some people find their niche of making their work saleable, well made, and authentic to them, but I didn’t. It’s a mode of supporting yourself, but I didn’t manage, or have the drive (?) to keep that going- so boo hoo back to the drawing board.

Like many artists I also teach but I don’t make regular enough hours for that to my the sole source of income for me, so inevitably I have a patchwork of freelance and zero hours contracts to keep things together (when it works). Like many, I also had a PT job during my time at art school, so didn’t even dedicate all my energies to my study back then. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had applied myself fully? I also find it funny that that is where my mind immediately goes- it must be some failing on my part- lack of motivation, dedication, talent, skill, when there are bigger, overarching influences that are out of my control. But equally between the ages of 18 and 22 you have a competing range of priorities that shape-shift continuously. We are preoccupied with establishing a new identity, socialising, building relationships… enjoying youth, as we should.

In amongst all this are things that are of my making and not. I chose to undertake an academic masters degree after graduating from art school, at a time when I was getting more opportunities as an artist. So I effectively pulled the plug on my own trajectory to do something I wanted to do, and felt would ultimately enhance my practice. But looking back I see that I ‘dropped the ball’ there, fell off the map and just well… fell off. With age I think, I’m glad I did that then because I couldn’t afford to do that now, and I had some great experiences and made friendships I wouldn’t trade for anything. But when I am reviewing my progress, or lack there of, I sometimes am tempted to file this under ‘master (lol) of my own destruction’.

I stopped making art properly between 2011 and 2013, and didn’t come back to producing work I felt was ‘me’ until 2016. I have written a lot about my use of collage as a way of finding my feet again, and I value that time, but I knew I couldn’t make that kind of work forever. I was always fighting in my own head with myself about going back to photographic work. It was scary because it was hard and I had nowhere to hide.

It’s a long and meandering road, being an artist, or just a human generally, and I look back and see a varied and strange path to where I am now. I couldn’t help but wonder if my art practice would have met even my own expectations if I had had more time to dedicate to it, or even more energy. For a while I tried to come to the studio in the morning and be *productive* before doing manual work in the afternoon and boy, did that not just really add to the sense of- wow this is not workinggggg.

I recognise more than ever that I need fairly specific conditions for my brain and body in order to be able to make the most of my time in the studio:

Not feeling rushed (rushing there- bad, having to rush away- also bad)
No overhanging obligation (a meeting, a deadline, anything I need to consciously remember)
Nervous system feeling REGULATED.

I am pretty sure any artist reading this will be like, gurl that is not happening ever, and don’t I know it. We are always making do, cramming in, contorting our brains and bodies around obligations and demands and everything else, and if you manage to squeeze out a small piece of work, or focus your mind for a short time- that is golden. I need to check myself as well remembering that there are many, many frustrated artists who are denied any opportunity to work, because of life circumstances beyond their control. I have a studio I can come to. I have materials. I have goals in mind. This is very much a me problem but many artists will face it to different degrees- how do you survive? How do you keep making work? Does it matter? Should you keep going?

I sometimes think about what would happen if I just gave it all up, like I have tried, that’s enough now. I guess it depends what I was expecting my life to look like. I have painted (sorry) myself into a corner with my skillset and experience and can’t really imagine what kind of ‘regular’ job would suit me, which is why I frequently undertake manual work. On the face of it I have made myself fantastically unemployable to the general labour market. I could start thinking about ‘transferable skills’ but I want to make it through the day… or maybe rEtRaIn In CyBeR.

When I have thought about writing about this previously I just feel like, it’s whiny etc, no one cares about your self made problem. But I also think it points to bigger problems that we all face, that of the role of work and ceaseless productivity drive inherent in much of modern Western life, the cost of living, and how we find and make meaning in our lives. I chose to live like this and I bear the consequences of my choices, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.

I think the real root of the problem is my own level of expectation for myself and my practice, the vision I hold somewhere in my head, which gets vaguer over time, of what ‘success’ would look like for me. I often need to zoom out. Sometimes what keeps me going is the idea that art, and art making, have value, and enhance our lives and experience of the world. That maybe my art speaks to someone and they feel seen and understood, intrigued or provoked, in the way that artworks have infiltrated my own consciousness.

Ultimately I feel like there is something about giving up that feels larger than just a shift in occupation for me. I am not planning on doing so in the immediate future but I am unsure when I will next have the opportunity to spend an entire week in my studio.

It is not yet time to abandon all hope.

What now, zines & more

March 13, 2023 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

hello again.

I had prepared a January themed blog post at the beginning of the year, but I didn’t like the genericness of that, so I scrapped it and didn’t write another. For months! Give us nothing! I did! And now it’s March!

I don’t see this as a bad start to the year (naturally) but instead just curating my blog (see: protecting it from crap) and not feeling compelled to post dross to fill up space and tick a box. Do you believe me?

A brief digression into talking about goals:

Instead of doing a lot of thinking (not problematic in itself, but more in terms of sheer quantity of head scratching time), this year, I decided I need to do more doing. Of course I have spent a bit of time thinking about how I want to reshape the direction of my practice this year- but I want to initiate practical steps in a timely fashion wherever possible.

I feel like I want to strip back some of the layers I have accumulated around my art making. After several years of exploring so many new processes, new techniques, new focuses, I want to return to some of the things that were foundational in my art practice in its early years.

I have really enjoyed expanding my creative repertoire to include things like screenprinting, needle punch, embroidery, monoprinting, self-publishing etc etc, but I have long harboured the desire to do a ‘back to basics’ project that would require me to tangle with some technical and personal challenges.

Where did it all begin??

Specifically I am talking about darkroom photography (also animation, but we will get to that). I was lucky enough to have access to a darkroom in my school years during my first forays into black and white photography. My dad allowed me to use his 35mm camera- a Canon AE1 which I still have and use to this day, and I was able to process films, and make my first black and white print (which I still have somewhere- a flower). I enjoyed the hands on nature of the process, the variables, the tinkering, and the quiet, meditative quality of working in the dark.

As I have previously mentioned, I moved into a new studio facility last year and was delighted to find a darkroom therein. I have yet to reacquaint myself with the processes, but have formulated a mini-project in my head to try and kick start my thinking, and get me fired up about all things darkroom. I will update as this progresses. Currently I have a steady thematic direction and am gathering research. Initiating this phase felt like quite a relief. Phew, I have an idea, I have a purpose.

I have also applied for some small-scale project funding to get the proposal going and allow me to purchase materials etc, but I will try to push this forward even on a micro scale if this doesn’t come to fruition. Where there is a will, there’s a hideous project on a shoe-string budget- that’s what I always say!

What I’m working on currently:

Since the beginning of the year I have been lucky enough to lead some more creative workshops. Professional practitioner time! These have been themed around making zines so far. I have, for many years now, enjoyed the process of making zines, mostly for showcasing my artwork and writing, and making them as part of my Cannibal Cubs projects.

I also enjoy collecting and reading other zines. I love a niche, and zines are a niche’s niche.

Self-publishing is fun and only as complicated as you make it (sometimes really complicated- love that). For years I was lucky enough to have access to a photocopier which hugely aided the development and dissemination of my creations. Also a long-reach stapler- very, very key. (Although I do stitch bind now too!). I borrowed this from my Dad initially (thanks again Dad) and he said to me ‘oh yeah I used it to make shitey booklets’, and honestly, same ever since. And no, I didn’t return it. The more garbage your aesthetic the better sometimes with zines, so it suited me as a DIY method of getting my work out there. How ‘out there’ it got is still up for debate…

I have also had a couple of zines professionally printed- primarily as part of a funded project, but also as part of a collaborative exhibition. I like the lo-fi aesthetic of a handmade zine, its potential and power, rooted in a long history of subversiveness, rebelliousness and subculture infighting. My favourites!

The workshops I have been leading have been aimed at beginners and accomplished zinesters alike, so I’ve tried to pitch them at an accessible level, but also allow people the opportunity to experiment and play, and maybe challenge themselves to step away from their usual method of making, or format etc. So far I have been pleased with the way these sessions have unfolded (excuse the poster zine pun), and look forward to continuing. I like it when a workshop opens you up to continuing a practice at home, and is affordable and accessible- both collage making and zines embody this well.

One of the other reasons I’ve enjoyed introducing people to zine making is that, like any hands on activity, it encourages people to slow down their thinking a bit, consider what they are constructing/writing, and have a break from the immediacy of online life, or even just daily routine and frenetic, wired in living. Looking at someone else’s handmade zine is equally an opportunity to take some time to see the world through another’s eyes, be exposed to opinions you may not usually encounter, see something stimulating… I can get quite evangelical about the possibilities and benefits.

Making something with your hands can be highly therapeutic, allowing you to get close to that coveted flow state. Being playful is something that can be severely lacking, or forgotten about completely, even for creatives or artists. Remember fun?

I always joke with peers about how ART IS NOT FUN!!! But it’s not really true. It’s trying to make a living from art that’s not fun. Play and creative practice are great ways to refresh your perspective, for creative professionals and well, anyone. Sometimes this needs to be enforced in a workshop environment (weee organised fun… said… not me), as carving out ‘playtime’ in your own schedule always seems to fall off the list, if it ever even makes it on in the first place.

What I’m reading

INFERNO!! by Dante

Pretty sure I’ve stood in the ‘vestibule of hell’ before in many public buildings but I digress.

Picked this up as a bit of research for a project. I danced around reading this after toiling with Ovid and others. Sometimes another saga… I’m not ready. I think I’m a more mature reader now but was surprised by how readily I was absorbed into the journey.

To be continued…

What I’m listening to

I just finished Katherine Rundell’s wonderful book on John Donne ‘Superinfinite‘. I enjoyed this biography, which was very humorous, very well written and engaging. I came away with a new understanding of Donne’s life and his works. I have studied his poetry, read it countless times, and I still gained fresh insight and enthusiasm to revisit his work once more. 400 years on (and no, that’s not since I studied him THANKS), it amazes and delights me that works that are so old can still speak to us- the common themes are eternal to our species: love, death, suffering, grief, spirituality, all the big ones that move, motivate and unravel us.

I didn’t realise quite how many words in the English language that Donne was personally responsible for (no spoilers). It wasn’t always a totally edifying portrayal, but it added a human, ‘mortal’ element that I found lacking in other studies of Donne. It shows Donne as poet, lover, father, preacher- all phases of his life, and the paradoxical nature of these many transformations. He was someone at the mercy of his desires, beaten down by corporeality, but also someone totally enthralled and astounded by human life.

Highly recommend this book. I am a superfan. Life affirming, fascinating stuff.

That’s a short recap for now, thanks for reading!

J 🙂

2022 byeeeee

December 21, 2022 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

I figured it might be a good way to round off the year with a post, and although I haven’t quite established a regular posting schedule, I figure it’s better to write when you feel moved to do so, rather than forcing a post of dross out to tick a box on my to-do list.

Current reading etc

I am currently listening to the audiobook version of ‘The Body Keeps the Score’ by Bessel A. van der Kolk. A much recommended book, it has been a difficult listen in places (as any book about trauma is going to be) but has been eye-opening in many ways to the deep connection between body and mind. I think it’s very easy, as a cerebral person, to forget this, and this has been an invaluable digression.

I have just finished the latest issue of Spike Magazine- Vulnerability. Any magazine that has Tea Hacic-Vlahovic as a regular contributor is a must on my list.

I have completed my large scale commission I seem to have been endlessly toiling with (no pictures of the final piece until I’m over the initial hatred stage).

wip shot of the long commission. long in many ways…

I have started another large scale mouse based collage work in my studio.

me making something awful

I made a few hilarious Cannibal Cubs tufted rugs as gifts for people (I wasn’t going to include pictures in case someone happens to read this, though I think I am safe to say none of my immediate circle would subject themselves to reading my blog as they are regularly exposed to the live show). As many people I’m sure are experiencing, life seems to be very expensive just now, and Xmas appearing in view is not a welcome sight when the budget is already zero. I have made more handmade gifts this year than I usually do- I am normally too busy making items for markets and the like, but having swerved that this year I found myself with a teency bit more time. There’s also something therapeutic about this particular process for my addled brain.

A mouse rugly made by me as a cyute gift. Normally my mouse rugs are a bit… intense? But I made this once nice and friendly.

Anyway, back to my version of the dreaded holiday newsletter. No one graduated, it was mostly toil. I jest.

2022 the year of leaving the ‘Kekun’.

2022 has been a year where with the rolling back of covid restrictions, I have been able to broaden the scope of what I was able to achieve in the public sphere, including exhibitions, workshops, and spending more time with people face-to-face. I think this was a necessary thing before I completely atrophied from lack of professional external contact and ‘putting myself out there’. I have a propensity to be insular when I am creating new works, but if I let that mentality seep across my entire professional life I am at risk of disconnecting in a way that isn’t healthy. Being a loner works for some artists, and I think everyone needs this to a degree, but at this stage in my life I can’t really become a total recluse. Yet.

As I’ve detailed before, the covid years provided me with time to develop long neglected sides of my practice such as beginning to draw again, picking up my analogue camera more regularly, and starting to produce written works. But we humans are social creatures and although I was able to glean some small benefits during an overwhelmingly stressful and dark time, I am glad to have been able to re-emerge and ‘do the things’.

As a practitioner this year has been invaluable in taking my first steps back into teaching. Covid restrictions made workshops retreat to the online sphere, and it’s been nice to actually get out and connect with people doing creative activities again. It was a confidence boost to remind myself of my own capabilities and also the enjoyment that art can bring to people’s lives, with simple materials a lot of the time. I am hoping to build on the workshops I have provided so far, as well as expanding my freelance working to include some more consistent teaching and facilitation. Upswing!

Image from a recent collage workshop held at a local community warm space.

Existing in the current economic climate has arguably been a challenge but this is not unusual for artists or those working in the ‘creative industries’ (am I the only one who hates that term?). Many of us are all too familiar with instability, precarity and the need for fortitude and adaptability. Saying that however there is only so far that a positive attitude can take you (maybe I’m not *manifesting* hard enough), and when bills just need paid you start to question whether you have chosen a foolish path. I think questioning your choices is pretty much innate in ‘art life’, but it has had an acute, sharper feeling this year. I have always pursued other employment whilst being an artist, but have had periods this year where I had no additional income and it was at times, destabilising. I have once again sought alternative, part time flexible employment, which will take the pressure off- even if the logistics are making it harder to commence than anticipated. I am resourceful. I will survive. I will ride my sewer crocodile into the sunset. Soon.

everything is trash and I am falling over.

But sometimes it does not stave off the creeping sense of discomfort that choosing this life was a mistake. I am sure that most creative professionals encounter this sensation, probably daily in some cases, but many of us seem to manage to keep on, keepin on, and strive towards having the sorts of lives they want to live. Also maybe we don’t talk about this enough? Only amongst close confidantes? Should artists talk more about ways to survive together? Do they already have support groups I am not invited to? Something to ruminate over next time I’m trying to meditate. Intrusive thoughts!

Anyhoo.

What keeps me going? What keeps me going in the dark night of art soul?

this again.

ART FRIENDS!

Mostly peer support. Having other people around trying to live the same kind of lives makes you feel like you are not alone, and that you are not in pursuit of the ridiculous (even when you probably are). Mostly. It gives you a sense of community amid an existence that can feel like chaos, or just out and out permaslog. Feeling seen and heard is important, having people to turn to for advice, or just to complain to can, like all problems, make the load a little lighter, even just for a while. I am forever indebted to my studio mates and other creative friends for this. But I wasn’t always so lucky. It took me a long time to build networks, and I had to actively seek out opportunities to meet other artists or makers. I initially did this by applying for selling events and naturally seeing the same faces, as well as attending a course entitled ‘Sustaining Life as a Creative’ in 2016. I was able to meet a whole room of people trying to exist as a creative in differing ways, and made some lasting connections as a result. We soon realised we all had versions of the same problems, and it made me feel less isolated. It took me a long time to actually not be isolated however, but this was the beginning of that process. I was lucky to stumble across this course, but depending on where you live you might not have these opportunities so readily to hand, and have to rely more on the interwebs to connect with others. I have dabbled in this also, but I’m actually kind of rubbish at consistently being on instagram or other platforms, so my lacklustre presence doesn’t inspire a constellation of pals and potential. It’s hard to invest a lot of time and energy in being ‘online’ all the time, I find it quite intrusive into my regular brain space. There are certainly lots of people who excel at this- more power to them- but I need IRL support or I crumble.

What else helps?

BEING A NERD!

Reading the biographies of other artists is usually a good morale boost, and has always provided me with much solace. Understanding that the path is not linear for creative people can give a sense of hope and comfort when you wonder if you should have just… done literally anything else. The only thing that can mar this slightly are biographies that include scenes of extreme wealth and status that make you think… okaaaaay, I’m not the offspring of an aristocratic dynasty or the great nephew of whoever… but there are always *some* commonalities regardless. Creative struggle is struggle, but some people have more of the general life struggle than others. You’ll never find a complete mirror of your own experience in such accounts, but a glimmer of recognition is still something in the dark.

MORE READING!

approx 1000000 books belonging to me

I have also read many, many advice books for artists, and will list below the ones I have found the most useful. I also try to read relevant blogs, like The White Pube, which features helpful advice columns, and find solace and a dark chuckle in niche meme accounts for artistic life.

Useful books/Books I have read:

‘Ways of Being: Advice for Artists by Artists’ by James Cahill– predictably this had some gems and some so-so nuggets of wisdom, as marmite as the artists themselves will be for many people. Highlights again the differing journeys each artist will have, and that success takes many forms and has varying timelines.

Plan & Play, Play & Plan: Defining your art practice by Janwillen Schrofer– this was helpful when I was trying to become more comfortable with the rhythm of my own practice, the importance of play, what productivity actually can look like. It was dense and well put together- I need to revisit it.

How to be an Artist by Jerry Saltz– this was a high energy collection of pep and encouragement, acknowledging that not everyone’s practice will look the same but there is inherent value and importance in just showing up and trying. Art is hard work! Jerry wants you to get to it, stat.

Playing to the Gallery: Helping contemporary art in its struggle to be understood by Grayson Perry – digestible and friendly, written with humour and wit. Accessible and overall enjoyable read from a self-aware artist.

I also liked this just because: What Artists Wear by Charlie Porter– fun dive into the sartorial lives of artists and what it reveals about their differing ways of existing in the world. It’s never ‘just clothes’. As Leonard Woolf said, ‘Nothing matters, and everything matters’.

On my reading list:

Talk Art: Everything you wanted to know about contemporary art but were afraid to ask by Russell Tovey and Robert Diament – will report back once I’ve had a chance to get through this one.

What’s next?

This coming year I am trying to bring a greater sense of stability into my life, with more regular freelance work and sporadic part time employment (hahaha I am aware how that sounds… ha). It’s hard to create and be creative sometimes when you are constantly thinking about the rising cost of everything (particularly materials, sweet baby J), so I am hoping that my employment changes will engender a slightly greater sense of security that might free up my creative brain. Fingers crossed.

I am still pleased with the variety of projects and shows I have undertaken this year, and similarly hope to build on this again next year. I think it’s easy to underplay your own achievements but in the midst of what has at times felt like a difficult year, I have still managed to pull together work and explore new avenues, new techniques, all whilst moving studio (goodbye OG Kekun Studio, hello Arkade Studios) and working on larger projects.

Also committing to maintaining and creating this blog has been a step I had wanted to take for a while, and although this is only in the very early stages of becoming something, or indeed anything, I am pleased I took the step to encourage me to write more, and share my thoughts and ideas with a wider community.

Thanks for reading- I hope you have a restful xmas/holiday break

J 😊

Creative Resilience Exhibition!

November 26, 2022 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

This post got a little delayed due to me being absolutely floored by a cold. I actually had to take some time off, which is unusual for me. I haven’t been that unwell in years. Basically my brain was like an over-baked potato, so all things creative, and all things blog just had to take a back seat until I resurfaced. I’m functioning on about 60% now, so that’s something. Hah. The joys of winter.

Anyway- back to my original post.

A couple of weeks ago a collective I am part of (Cannibal Cubs) had a piece of work included in a group exhibition of women artists in at the Yard Life Gallery, SWG3 in Glasgow, Scotland. I was really stoked for our work to be included alongside this group of talented artists working across the country and beyond. I was also excited to be included in a show in Glasgow, having only shown in the city a couple of times. There’s a thriving art scene there, and it always feels like events are well supported and attended. I’d love to be part of more shows and projects happening across the country- I suppose it’s just me standing in my own way for this to happen a lot of the time.

The show opening night was also a rare chance to meet some of the other faces behind the works and the atmosphere was really positive, warm and welcoming. I haven’t been to many openings if I’m honest since Covid. So it was nice to do something like this and have it feel so rewarding. I sometimes find openings a bit overwhelming, and my social skills are probably a bit rusty for larger events. I need to be reintroduced to society like the beaver. Anyway.

Be sure to check out the show in Glasgow if you’re around there- it runs until January and features works across a variety of mediums- sculpture, needlework, pyrography, painting, printmaking, tufting and more. The organisers worked really hard to pull together something special- including a hand assembled catalogue- and the space is jam packed with a diverse range of works. Well worth a visit- I came away feeling energised (I need more of this) and looking forward to opportunities to connect again with such a dynamic and inspiring group.

You can watch a wee video about the show here. Or read about it here. You can find more info about the show and the Yard Life Gallery here.

A sneak peek at our piece:

Titled ‘REVOLTING’ we created a mixed media artwork with a range of elements, including hand tufted parts. The piece was intended to depict a mouse revolt against cat tyranny. Solidarity!

Making

I made a large scale piece the other week after discovering a huge roll of paper in the studio with a textural background all over it. It is mostly a mixed media collage of my drawings of mice (surprise!). It sort of developed from the process of making the piece for the Creative Resilience show. I feel like this large works might become a series. Having the new studio space has been really instrumental in encouraging me to shake off a lot of limitations. Making large, dynamic works feels quite natural now, whereas before I was quite timid about adventuring much beyond A3 sort of size.

It was made pretty quickly while listening to a combination of the Polyester Zine Podcast and The Great Women Artists Podcast. I neglect to listen to things for months and then binge ten episodes in a sitting! Standard. Easily my two favourite listens while working.

I made the piece on the floor, it was quite physical doing that and was what I needed to break myself out of a bit of a creative funk (albeit briefly). I find this time of year a bit tough for motivation and starting new projects. Or finishing them. I am still toiling with the commission I have been working on sporadically for months- although I did push myself to make some decisions about the final presentation of the work. It’s essentially an assembly job now, and I just need to motivate myself to pick up my tools and complete it. Next week…

I’ll be back with a post about a workshop I ran yesterday 🙂

Thanks for reading

J 🙂

Edinburgh highlights/ ‘difficult’ collections

November 10, 2022 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

I took a trip to Edinburgh a couple of weekends ago, had an interesting time catching some cultural and culinary highlights. Here is a quick round-up of some of my favourites.

One of my first stops was the Royal Scottish Academy to catch Ade Adesina’s show ‘Parallel’.

I love Ade’s work- I could spend forever looking at all the details. I find insects endlessly appealing, and there are so many in these pieces. Check out more of his work here. His process videos always astound me.

I also visited ‘Anatomy: A Matter of Death and Life‘ at the National Museum of Scotland. No pictures of this as no photography was permitted- which makes sense when the exhibition contains human remains and some pretty graphic anatomical models. Collections of bone saws don’t appeal to everyone either (although every time I am in London I visit the Wellcome Collection which has a lot of medical instruments, and one of my favourite museum objects- Napoleon’s toothbrush! I love a random domestic object that has significance, not that I have a particular love of Napoleon or anything).

A few years ago I was studying for a PhD focusing on the curation of ‘difficult’ museum specimens (abandoned due to personal reasons), so I always have a special interest in exhibits which handle sensitive items. Naturally there are a lot of ethical considerations to such an undertaking, which museums have a duty to engage with more than ever (not to mention the provenance of their vast collections). This exhibit contained some items with ‘sensitive content’ warnings, and I found myself deeply moved, and at times disturbed, by what I saw.

The ‘exhibit’ (it feels strange calling it that) which will stay with me the most, was probably the skeleton of William Burke, of the infamous Burke & Hare murders in 1820’s Edinburgh. As part of the punishment for his crimes it was the judge’s wish that, after public hanging and dissection, his skeleton should be put on public display. Despite this being part of official judicial decree, I still find it hard to look at a human skeleton, particularly one imbued with this particular backstory. It’s a gruesome kind of fascination that draws you to a cabinet with such content.

I have previously visited the Surgeon’s Hall museum several times which also contains a lot of Burke and Hare artefacts- this museum is also well worth a visit (avoid the dentistry museum if you have the fear, it gives me the heebies). One of the items in this collection which stayed with me LONG after seeing it, and not included in the National Museum show, was a book supposedly bound in Burke’s skin. As far as contentious objects go, books bound in human skin are pretty high up the list (or at least my list). Ghoulish. I am unsure if this object is still on display today, or is just part of the larger collection.

The exhibition at NMS made me reflect on the public fascination with crimes like the Burke and Hare murders, in fact there was a good quote as part of the exhibit that commented on this public obsession at the time of the murders, and I wish I could have taken a note of it. It was very apt in encapsulating the alarming way gory details can be hungrily raked over by the media and lapped up by readers with equal fervour. The current popularity of true crime documentaries and dramas reflects a very old fascination indeed. I sometimes wonder if we disconnect from the ‘human’ side of these crimes- the impact on victim’s families, ignoring the risks of broader cultural ramifications of a fascination with violence and murder. This is pertinent given the controversy around the recent Dahmer series. Is this just a cultural handwringing reminiscent of the panic of the 90’s around the effect of violence in video games and Tarantino films?

I’m not sure how eloquently I can form the dark swirl of my thoughts around this, but standing in front of Burke’s skeleton I was brought very much into the moment, the experience of existing in a body, with a keen awareness of the very real harms that can be inflicted on the bodies of others. Looking at his hands, I felt a deep chill.

Being able to abstract the impact of crimes through a screen, or behind glass- does this diminish our ability to empathise with the bodies of others? At what point does it become acceptable for trauma to become entertainment, or vice versa? I feel like there’s probably a wealth of good writing on this- suggestions welcome.

Incidentals

To lighten the mood- here’s a few incidental shots of Edinburgh that caught my eye as I wandered around. I used to live in the city and always find new views, new places, and fresh perspectives on each visit. It’s a very international and culturally rich place, I always come away feeling like I’ve taken in some visual sustenance.

PS I said to lighten the mood- perhaps these seem like gloomy images, but it was late October in Edinburgh so you work with what ya got!

Thanks for reading as always. I’ll be back soon with another travel update, a new exhibition and some studio progress.

J 🙂

Last week!

October 11, 2022 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

The draft of this was created on time and I didn’t post it! Shocking.

Making

Last week I started working on a brand new zine, here’s the draft front cover image:

Cover for the new zine I am working on: ‘Host Organism’

This zine will feature some of the monochromic works I’ve been creating in the last couple of weeks. Mostly these comprise of digital collages compiled from photographs I have taken (35mm, DSLR, iPhone) and found imagery. I may also try to include some text with these works but I will see– I don’t want to put pressure on myself to create some poetry or written texts, as generally if I think to myself ‘okay gonna write a good thing’ I generate complete guff.

The theme is probably quite dark (surprise!), but that’s just the direction my work has been taking, so I’m just going to roll with it until I feel like I’ve exhausted or exorcised whatever theme I’m in the grip of. Gloom era.

Other projects

I’m also currently working on a collage commission. The brief for this project was to create a kind of ‘journey piece’ for the client based around the renovations to their two previous homes. To create the work I have been given a large amount of paperwork relating to the two projects- mostly architectural drawings and plans, and the accompanying administrative paperwork.

I spend the initial stages looking carefully through the material to try and form a structure in my mind, pick out any imagery that appealed, and trace a thread from start to finish.

I am now at the ‘draft’ stage, where I have settled on a layout I am happy with (it’s quite a long, thin artwork), so now it’s *just* a case of arranging and rearranging the content until I have something I feel works coherently.

This project is the first time I have been asked to incorporate element like technical drawings, and I have been given permission to cut up the original paper plans (!) I have been assured that everything is stored electronically now- phew. Despite this, I have been a bit tentative about actually cutting them, and have been working with photocopied images of sections of the plans I have chosen. For the final piece I will however take the plunge and sink my scissors into the originals. I think the variety of textures the papers provide will give the work a tactile quality and stop it being too flat (a constant quest/problem in my collage pursuits). I also do need to fill the client requirement of actually utilising the materials provided. Imagine!

I don’t generally do a lot of commission work, but it has been a change of pace to have something larger scale to work on, that allows me to incorporate a variety of techniques. I am hoping to finish the piece by the end of October- nothing like a deadline to induce some sweaty trips to the studio.

I am pretty good at self-motivating, but for something like this, I could quite easily let it sit on the back burner instead of giving it my full attention. The deadline helps me to prioritise, and also gives my client some sense of certainty (gracious of me lol).

I am always incredibly nervous showing either the finished piece or a draft to the client. In the past, for smaller commissions I have mocked up several options for the customer to choose from (which can sometimes create issues!). But these days I tend to go through that process myself and decide on which version or draft I feel meets the brief, and works as a whole. Is this professional confidence? Or streamlining the process? Both?

Pricing commissions is my least favourite activity. To calculate I usually create a budget of materials and calculate my time using Scottish Artist Union rates of pay. It’s helpful to have this reference point to explain your pricing to clients, organisations, or anyone else who asks (fun). But naturally I never end up charging accurately for my time, because generally I’ll have discussed a budget with a client and sometimes I feel (however erroneously) that if I choose to fuss around with a piece for an extended period then that’s on me. I might just be in that kind of mood and I don’t know if I can really charge out my time for that.

Saying that I’ve made some serious errors when creating pieces for people I know in terms of costings. Mates rates are good and all, but I don’t like walking away from a project feeling undervalued or sore about it. It’s obviously on me to assert myself but I can feel uncomfortable sometimes about that in a friend/acquaintance/colleague dynamic. Any experience in navigating this? Tricky area. Let me know below.

Thanks for reading.

Jenny 🙂

Garbage Portents- a zine

September 30, 2022 thedraftexcluder1 Comment

Garbage Portents Zine- my newest completed zine project!

After my ‘Omens‘ show was over I decided I wanted to commemorate assembling that body of work by creating a zine. I thought it would be a nice was to condense the show, almost like an exhibition catalogue but if it were made by a raccoon. I have been ‘self-publishing’ (if you can call it that) zines for many years as part of my work with Cannibal Cubs. I like the DIY nature of making a zine, I usually assemble, copy and bind them myself. Skills! I have access to a photocopier at my job (I am building up to a post about artists and jobs, brace yourselves), so I have a low cost way of disseminating my printed works. I typically price them between £5-£7 so they aren’t too much of a bank-buster for the reader either, one of my own favourite things about zines and why I have so many myself!

I’ve had some zines printed professionally in the past, which is nice and the method I would always choose for a photography zine (photocopiers don’t do justice to colour photos imo), but for many of my projects I can get away with a VERY lo-fi approach and finish. I think I enjoy the tactility of a handmade zine, seeing the photocopier roller marks, the imperfections in the print. I’ve always enjoyed gathering other artist’s zines and some of my favourites are the most lo-fi ones. Sometimes you have an idea, or a collection of things that just need to be out in the world, and it’s a great low budget way to do it.

‘Bygone’ zine by myself and the artist Mary Butterworth for a show of the same title.

With Cannibal Cubs we used our zines as a moodboard for collections of our other handmade items, such as prints and wearables. They were often just replicas of sketchbooks we created from the germ of an idea- sometimes just a phrase or a theme we run with. The zines are quite chaotic but there is always some semblance of cohesion- I promise.

A layout ‘plan’ for a Cannibal Cubs Zine.

For the ‘Omens’ zine I wanted to try something I had been slowly building on for previous CC zines- including pieces of text written by me. I suppose it would be correct to call them poems. I had been writing short pieces during the period when I was creating the visual works for the show, so I felt like the poems worked naturally alongside the collages.

I used to write a lot of poetry when I was younger- I remember once having a poem published in one of those compendiums you pay to be a part of (!) I was probably twelve and the book had the most hideous cover. Thankfully there isn’t much evidence of this mini-poet so we can all rest easy.

I came back to writing text pieces around the time I worked on my series ‘Some Re-assemblage required’ where I produced a photographic zine at the end of the project (this one was professionally printed as I had some funding- neat!). I was really excited by the idea of incorporating text into my work. I think it was something I felt I couldn’t really do with the work I was making at the time. I would agree that my ‘Corvid Eyes’ style collage work would struggle with the inclusion of text without it being really twee, but my more experimental photographic pieces/digital works were certainly more welcoming of the inclusion of text.

‘Some Re-Assemblage Required’ zine (2019)

I think this step back towards my own creative writing was around the time I was beginning to read more, and particularly reading more poetry. I found lots of authors whose work spoke to me in a way I hadn’t encountered before, and it was apparent that I didn’t have to adhere to a particular format, or pentameter, to write something- at that point it didn’t even need to be good, just something. The poets I discovered at this point were, amongst others, Maggie Nelson and Melissa Broder (we’ve covered my fangirling previously…). I think I had erroneously built poetry up in my mind as something I didn’t do any more, something I wasn’t interested in, something that just wasn’t for me. Wrong!

I mostly write in the evenings, often right before I go to sleep. I sometimes get a rush of ideas when I am trying to wind down, and I keep a notebook handy for this purpose. Sometimes it felt like the writing was a sort of purge, and I was able to sleep better afterwards, like finishing a crossword (no? just me?) or writing a list so your conscious mind can rest. I sometimes felt like when I was writing I was in that flow state I mention so frequently, not quite out-of-body, but just feeling more in-between than present. I have to be in a state where I am neither self conscious or critical, that can come later, I just need to write the words down as they ‘appear’ to me. If that sounds too airy-fairy, it’s basically just a state where the busyness of my mind is briefly veiled, or fully uncorked, and I can just write.

Summer evening set up with books (note- *poetry* books! who is she?), bed and my view- the sort of time I like to write when I can!

I wouldn’t describe this process as ‘automatic writing‘ as such, but I do believe in the influence of the subconscious in art making. When I was created the visual works for ‘Omens’ I took pains to follow my instincts- if an image ‘spoke’ to me I would include it, and would let my mind wander for other potential associations, for images to actively seek out for the works. Sometimes it can be easy to fool yourself into believing you’re doing things ‘automatically’ but I try to be fluid and not overanalyse my own patterns of thinking while I work (again I can do that later, and oh boy do I).

The creation of the zine was relatively straightforward. I typed up all the poems I wanted to include, and set about creating a suitable running order, pairing works with images that, in my mind, made sense. I tried not to get too bogged down in this, as I kept reminding myself- it’s my zine, I can make as many versions as I like! One of the perks of self-production is that you are less worried about making typos and other errors as you can easily reprint, or not care, without feeling like you wasted good money on something that now needs to live in a box under your bed for the rest of your years.

One of the pistachio coloured prints from the show I really liked- grabs you by the eye… balls.

One of the decisions I did give some thought to was the colour of paper for the zine. I had printed the visual works for the show as risographs, and many of them had been in coloured paper and then presented in coloured frames. I felt like the zine deserved a pop of colour too. So I selected a salmon pink colour, and a lime/acid green colour. These were similar to my two favourite paper colours from the show- salmon and pistachio. The acid green is maybe a bit hard on the eyes for reading, but it is really impactful and packs a punch behind the black images.

In an ideal world I would have produced this zine by risograph as well, but my budget wasn’t quite able to go that far. The packs of paper I bought were super low cost, and in already having access to the photocopier I was able to produce the zines very, very cheaply. I stitch bind them on a sewing machine at home, and my back-up go-to is a long reach stapler. Welcome to lo-fi town.

Overall I am pleased with how the zines turned out. They won’t have a huge reach, but it felt like a milestone for me in terms of producing a zine with my own creative writing included. I might even submit some of my poems to some online poetry zines, once I’ve had a bit more practice, or maybe it’s just something I do for my own practice. Either way it has felt like a poignant moment for me, expanding what I do, building my confidence to continue writing, and feeling less and less pigeonholed by my own work. Win/win.

KEY FACTS ABOUT THE ZINE!

It’s 36 pages cover to cover.

The title came from a conversation about bad omens where I described everything I had seen as ‘garbage portents’.

It contains 10 poems- and some of them have bad language- soz.

Erm, that’s it.

For those who are interested, you can buy the zine here. I do ship internationally!

Thanks for reading, as always.

Jenny 🙂

Why I stopped drawing and other sad stories.

September 14, 2022 thedraftexcluder1 Comment

DRAWING!

Why I stopped drawing and other sad stories.

It’s actually quite a short story- because I realised I wasn’t as good as other people! Goodnight!

boo hoo right? Quit before you feel worse.

THE SAD HISTORY OF AVERSION

I used to draw all the time from childhood onwards, and could mostly draw things accurately by the time I was in high school (faces being an exception here of course, the proportions of the human face were not what my 16 year old self wanted to master, but I sure did enjoy drawing eyelashes). I had a reasonable enough skill level to get into art school with my portfolio, and so, it wasn’t all bad. But in 1st year of art school I embarked upon SERIOUS DRAWING CLASSES, and these, I did not enjoy. The lack of enjoyment stemmed from two things- looking at the work of more skilled students in my class, and the cryptic advice (‘don’t draw the space, draw around the space! don’t draw what’s there draw what’s not there!’, ’Okay… thanks I guess I’ll start again? Okay… yeah I will’). It’s weird, drawing in front of other people, I probably needed to get over myself, but I was 18 years old and my self confidence required the setting of a darkened bar, not a brightly lit studio with a life model shrivelling climate.

I think what I was never going to master was realism. I understood scale, composition, but I couldn’t replicate the structured set-ups in the same way some of my classmates could. One of the worst experiences I had was trying to draw a stack of ladders. I struggled for soooo long that the tutor brought me a taxidermy bird to draw instead. Not sure if it was a gesture of kindness or condescension but there you go. Confidence was le crushed. To compound this, instead of doggedly keeping going, I stopped drawing. Completely (well, bar story boards from my crappy short films). Part of this was due to the fact I selected a specialism which did not require drawing classes, so I heaved a sigh of relief and didn’t draw in an academic environment again.

me pretending nothing but photography exists in my art practice

I can look at this two ways- in one version I put aside the development of my drawing skills to focus on developing new skills, some of which I possessed in embryonic form already and were allowed to flourish with the correct facilities and tutelage. But sometimes I feel like I put on a set of blinkers and just shut down a whole side of art-making and my art practice. My drawings weren’t ‘good’ so I stopped. But what was ‘good’? In my own instincts I know when something is ‘good’ or ‘bad’, but I think I didn’t allow myself to get better. I can see myself now, standing there, holding the pencil tightly, trying to get it ‘right’. I was tense AF, and my drawings probably reflected that. Tight, so excruciatingly tight. You can see it- imagine a drawing of some ladders painfully rendered with a 2H pencil, by an anxious teen sweating out last night’s vodka. Yeah- you’d give up too just from looking at that.

VALIDATION SESSION #6423476

I should have listened to the advice people around me imparted about ‘loosening up’ my drawing with various techniques (things I actually do now, how embarrassing for my former self). Techniques such as- tape your pencil to the end of a massive stick! Fit it all into the page no matter what! Use one line only!! But I was thrown off balance by this whole experience of ‘not good’ (in time I will also detail some of the other reasons I did not utilise my time at art school as successfully as I should have, but let’s focus on this dung heap for now).

A few years ago I had a mentor as part of a funded project (thank you Anne!), and she pointed out to me (after my paranoiac rambling about not being good at drawing etc) that the collages I had been making were a form of drawing. It resonated with me for two reasons- it validated that what I was doing was of some value (was it ‘good’ though???), but also exposed the fact that some of the mechanisms of drawing- composition, scale etc- were right there, in my work. Basics for art making, first encountered in drawing, of course they were there! I had even labelled some of my collages ‘sketches’ prior to this encounter, of my own volition, without feeling idiotic for doing so.

It’s perturbing sometimes when you take a step back, to see how deeply entrenched a lack of confidence in yourself and your work can be. Practicing art can feel so fragile at times, and in dark moments very small slights, or failures can be enough to snuff your drive for significant periods.

WHAT’S GOOD?

At this point, re-reading the previous paragraphs, I noticed the important undercurrent in this entire ramble- WHY was it SO IMPORTANT that I was GOOD at drawing?

Because, dear reader, I had bought into the notion that to be an artist, and to be a good artist, you need to be good at drawing. Eek.

How. Embarrassing. Right? Or?

me looking at graphs of the kind of art people buy

It makes me think of one of the first lectures I attended at art school where the lecturer said ‘if you tell someone you go to art school and they ask you what you paint- tell them to fuck off!’ I mean I was taught this straight up from day one, but I still bought significant shares in the notion that ‘artistness’ was tied up with notions of being excellent at drawing and painting (I was also scared away from serious pursuit of painting after a two week stint but that’s ANOTHER sad story I shall spare you here… for now….). I think this notion has followed me around in one form or another, but really raised its head again after being away from the academic environment, out in the big world. After a hiatus from art-making during a foray into a non-studio based postgraduate degree, I tried to recapture my practice about 5 years after graduating. This was *HARD*, I had completely changed how I wanted to work, and had no real sense of direction. A deep reticence about making anything ensued and I crept into a cycle of note-taking, collecting, stunted attempts at making, and then retreating into inertia. I told myself my practice was ‘research based’, which actually just meant lots of reading and avoiding making. I don’t hate the work I did manage to squeeze out in this period, but I was really trying to find my feet, and it felt like the floor was covered in inner-critic (we’ll come back to THEM) shaped marbles. Interacting with people outside art circles doesn’t add to confidence either, a lot of people more broadly equate ‘good art’ and being an artist with drawing, painting and realism. People like what they like! Right? That’s fine! But if you don’t fit into this mould, or this worldview, and are lacking confidence/direction and you STILL want to endeavour to be an artist, you need to find a safe space to develop, even just in your own head.

But how?

You know, I actually followed one of the most insensitive and yet probably accurate pieces of advice I have ever received about making work and the problems it entails- ‘you just have to do it’.

INSERT NIKE SWOOSH

I’m now going to tell a really predictable story about when I started drawing again… LOCKDOWN 2020! Wow, very original. But yes, I did in fact pick up a pencil (charcoal actually) and start drawing again. Probably just before the pandemic really took hold, but around that time. Cute lockdown hobby! Groan. At least it wasn’t sourdough. Anyway- in order to get over the immense blockage that was preventing me from drawing (I am my own road block, this is a recurring theme so enjoy), I required two things. Some friendly drawing materials (charcoal, soft pencils), copious paper (newsprint sketchbook), no pressure (we are all maybe going to die v soon?), and some support. The support was key. I work on a collaborative project with a close friend, and they offered me a safe, non judgmental space to start drawing again. This friend was adamant that nothing had to be ‘good’, and it should even be actively avoided. My drawing was looser, more comfortably naive, more fluid, expressive and actually really enjoyable. I mean, I’m not entering a drawing prize any time soon, nor have I even really shared my drawings with many people (and especially not my main instagram account which is focused on a very specific kind of work, and I wouldn’t want to upset the cart that Zuck built). But I really take pleasure in drawing. I draw quickly, and move on from anything I’m not happy with, not dwelling on why it went wrong for ages just going going going. Liberating! Joyous! Okay, I obviously still suffer from frustration and fear, but it’s not preventing me from trying, and deriving actual enjoyment from the process itself.

Before I started drawing again I was getting really frustrated with how flat my work was. Flat, flat, flaaaaaaaat. But bringing drawing back into my practice made me immediately more adventurous. In fact, since the initial draft of this blog I have brought my drawing into several larger projects, and I even hung some up in my studio where people actually see it! And no, no-one has laughed or been sick to my knowledge. I’ve even included pieces with my drawings in two exhibitions. Who is she??

I suppose this exploration of my drawing anxiety is part of a larger issue- how to build and sustain confidence in your work as an artist out there in the big, bad world. Some people have innate confidence in themselves and their work, and I’d love to hold onto something like that, like a solid state of being, something immovable, but I am not in that place yet. I’d like to be the Castle in the Desert.

It’s been ten years since I stepped away from art making and it’s been a bumpy journey to get myself back to a point where I can call myself an artist and not feel like someone will pop out from behind a pillar and yell ‘no you’re not!’ (imposter syndrome is a career must, guys) and I have to immediately concede and jump into the sewer. It hasn’t been linear, but being able to swallow my pride and be willing to re-engage with drawing has been a big part of strengthening my confidence. I was allowing myself to be pigeon-holed as a ‘collage artist’ when really I’d prefer to operate freely under the more general banner of ‘artist’. Identity crisis! How novel. But flexibility is something I really wanted to cultivate. Today my work ranges across mediums from textiles, photography, digital work and, more recently, written texts. The confinement of the label ‘COLLAGE ARTIST’ only existed in my own mind, one of those ‘the cage door was open all along’ type moments. There are issues however when it comes to sharing DiFfErEnT work on my social media channels, but that’s something to explore in more detail later (algorithm diaries, the serialisation no-one needed).

I never feel like I’ve resolved anything when it comes to my practice, but I suppose that’s the point. It is forever a work in progress.

Are you an artist who has had a difficult relationship with drawing? Am I just a crybaby who needs to sharpen their 2B and shut up? Let me know below!

Thanks for reading, as always

Jenny 🙂

Welcome to Draft Excluder

July 20, 2021September 13, 2022 thedraftexcluderLeave a comment

I decided to start writing a blog again after… ten years. I had a small blogger account I used as an early graduate to riff on ideas and inspiration, with a light academic bent. But I quickly became quite self conscious and stopped. As my artistic output waned, I felt like a sham and generally didn’t want to draw attention to myself or what I was doing. Time to be small!

So what’s changed? Well I’ve been feeling for long time that Meta run platforms (FB, IG) are not a great space for a creative person to hang about. Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of people who have become very successful due to their hard work on these platforms, but I simply don’t like the way it makes me feel. And that’s important to me and how I operate as an artist.

Like many social media users I have a complicated relationship with these platforms, and my sentiments are far from new. But to cut a long story short, I decided to restart my blogging to give myself a place to express thoughts, explore ideas, and give BTS content on what I’m creating. I think I needed a space that didn’t feel harangued by an algorithm, had a looser structure, and a place where I could actually indulge my interests, regardless of who is or isn’t reading. Utopian ideals live on.

What can you expect from DRAFT EXCLUDER? Well, I’ll aim to talk about art and art making, but also will cover books and various tops that feed into my practice and life generally. Thank you for joining me.