The Art of Vulnerability
So much of what I do everyday is about touch. My paintbrush gliding across a canvas, my charcoal marking a piece of paper, taking a break from creating to pet my cat.
I’ve spent a lot of time exploring and playing with the intention behind each touch. I had to learn a lot about gentleness in my adulthood because while growing up, I was conditioned out of that. I was taught to be firm, rough, scratchy and scribbly. Softness is seen as weakness, and it’s conditioned out of us, as we grow up. “Adults don’t cry, suck it up, the world is a harsh place.” I’m sure we’re all familiar with some of those phrases or variations of them.
The sad part is that this disconnects us from our feelings and our bodies. We lose our ability to trust ourselves and others. We aren’t able to be present. We are less likely to indulge in those little luxuries like wearing a soft bathrobe and slippers or getting wrapped up in a cozy blanket - these little things are part of a greater practice in inviting softness and vulnerability.
Because of that disconnect, finding a gentle line in painting or life drawing can be a challenge because oftentimes, I just want to get the idea that’s in my head out and onto the paper. Patience is a virtue, after all.
Learning how to treat myself with gentleness, especially in times of frustration and anger, was the first step in figuring out how to express gentleness towards others and towards my art.
We are Inherently Worthy
I am inherently worthy of gentleness. I do not need to do anything to deserve it. The same goes for you, by the way! No matter how you were raised or what you’ve been told, you are worthy and deserving of gentleness. That’s just a fact - simple as that.
Not only that, but we deserve to protect ourselves from what might hurt us. As an artist, I feel a sense of responsibility to make sure that I don’t put energy that might hurt people into my art.
While creating, I tend to start with an emotion and then embody that throughout the entire process. If I begin to feel angry or frustrated, I have to stop, walk away and go do something else. Just let it go and come back to it later. I have a Painting time out, in my studio where I put the pieces that have brought out anger and frustration in me. I lean the canvases against the wall, facing away from me, and when I’m ready, I’ll pick one of them up and paint over it with something new.
I almost never rip up my art for the sake of destroying something that has made me angry. I will always try to repurpose it instead.
Energy is important when making art. It’s not good to send too much negativity out into the world. There’s enough negativity as it is. Because of that, I don’t allow anger or frustration in my art practice. If I did, those pieces end up going out into the world and the collector might feel that angry energy. That’s not what I want to put out. There’s nothing wrong with separating those emotions and choosing to find joy and gentleness.
Learning how to display joy, gentleness, softness and vulnerability in my work is affirming and life changing, because I’m able to recognize it in other aspects of my life more clearly. My relationship with my partner, how I treat my pets, how I look at the world and, most importantly, how I treat myself all benefit from practicing gentleness.
If we don’t allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we deprive ourselves of the ability to experience gentleness. We need to open ourselves up first, and that creates the gateway to compassion, empathy, willingness, surrender, holding space and living free from shame.
My art is very vulnerable. My heart is painted onto the canvas and all I can do is hope that it resonates. And whether it resonates or not, there is no shame in my art. It is what it is, I create it and then it’s out there. Being vulnerable means being brave enough to let go and trust that everything will be okay. After all, there is no right or wrong, just lessons to be learned.
I think that provides all the more reason to be vulnerable, embrace softness, touch gently, and express with love.