I’ve been sorting through my art for 30 minutes, with an A2 Dutch lesson playing on my computer screen. At first, I thought I couldn’t throw anything out. It was all sentimental. Then I went through it again, and suddenly I started to pick up patterns.
My first Project, where all I drew/painted every day was a black woman, was an idea I stole from a friend who has been doing it for years. She had a deeper meaning to it, and I liked her, so I borrowed the idea and trusted it would also be and feel deep for me. It did.
I’ve done this before (stealing ideas from people I admire, or trust, or like). That’s how I chose my university degree. I don’t use that (degree) so much anymore.
Back to the art. I’ve decided on a few piles. The Sentimental pile is the most interesting to me. This is art I created when thinking about somewhere or something or someone rather emotionally, and then art emerged from it. What I like about the Sentimental pile is that it has art well above my abilities (art that I cannot replicate if I tried and only God knows how I made that) and well as horrendous art. The pile allows me to keep art that may not be objectively good, but it’s good to and for me.
There’s two other piles (one topic but two piles) that feel straightforward: the Project piles. I mentioned, my black women Project, but my second Project was also so good that I made a whole video about it on my other creative outlet. It was something I found myself doing: drawing/painting YouTubers as I watched them. It was when I couldn’t help but create. Those bursts come and go, but I drew about 10 YouTubers, which made me realize I’m on YouTube A LOT.
Despite the piles, there’s still art that can’t quite fit into any particular pile. Maybe I’ve depicted a black woman, but it was not intentionally part of the Project. The art is not bad enough to be obvious trash, but it’s also not quite… good. Both those pieces feel aware of what they are. They know they don’t really belong anywhere, but why then can’t I trash them? What do they mean? They are not obvious selections for the Sentimental, but somehow I’m a bit attached.
In the end, one might ask, why isn’t this all part of a sketchbook or watercolor book? Why are these all loose-leaf papers that you stuff in Ziploc bags? And to that I say, I’m an anarchist. I don’t always think too far ahead (unless I do), and frankly, I did not know I would create this much.