Stepping Out Publicly as an Artist

I have been creating art since I could pick up a giant, child-sized pencil. While everyone else was running amok outside, I wanted to color quietly and draw. Through the years, I have used art to make my apartment feel right, show people that I love them, make a party feel more communal, and to have some freaking fun. Art has also saved me in a lot of ways. When I need to process something, I think of the art piece that it is evoking. Sometimes I create that piece, and sometimes I leave it in my mind. But it is always there. 

Now, I am putting my work on display in public for the first time. These pieces are not intensely personal. A lot of them are actually really fun, and I am proud of each sculpture. (I worked on them until I was proud of them, which SHEESH. That takes FOREVER.) Yet, there is still something nerve-wracking about putting my art out there and claiming space as an artist. It’s like I suddenly have to live the stereotype of a starving, tortured artistic soul who can only be happy when creating her work. When in reality, I just want to share the fun, intricate pieces that I have spent hours and HOURS creating. Some are cheeky, some have a slightly serious bent, and all of them look really fucking cool (to me). 

I keep coming back to a story my therapist, who is also an artist, once told me about an exhibit that she had. She had created a large painting of a young woman. At the last minute, she added tear drop shaped rhinestones to the piece, because she had them lying around. A lot of people interpreted this addition as something large and dramatic. She thought they looked neat and added some depth to the painting.

Maybe there is a lesson in here for the artist and the viewer. For the viewer, sometimes rhinestones are just rhinestones. They could mean something deep and epic, or they could just finish a piece nicely. For the artist (me), it’s okay for rhinestones to be rhinestones. They don’t have to be soul-baring. Everyone can have their own interpretation. Maybe we should all talk about it instead of assuming the meaning behind each component.

If we happen to run into each other at the cafe at Book People during the month of August, let’s chat about what you are seeing!

- Lauren, public artist for the very first time

A Thank You post to ALL of my Friends

Friendships in my life are ever evolving. When I was little, I could be friends with someone for the simple fact that they wanted to play with me. As I got older and popularity battle lines were drawn, friendships got more complicated. College friendships were about who I wanted as my surrogate family and who I could spend ALL of my time with. Now that I am older, I realize that friendships are more of a give and take. It’s not just about companionship that friends can offer me but also what I bring to the table, especially emotionally.

  

About 90% of the time, I am a good friend. I listen, stay engaged, ask people to do something, remember their important life events, and I support them through hard times. 10% of the time, I am overwhelmingly self-focused, prematurely share my own unhelpful opinion, mess up my schedule, forget important days, and I show up to parties/gatherings without an offering. Fortunately, I have friends who can ignore or call me out on the 10% of crap in order to get the 90% of awesomeness. 

I don’t take that fact lightly or for granted.  This whole balance of support, acceptance, and challenge is important during stressful life events, like when one is planning a wedding. I am privileged to have friends who ask me about planning, listen as I groan about something trivial, and offer to help in any way they can. I am also especially lucky to have friends who don’t listen to me when I tell them that getting married is not a big deal and that we don’t need to celebrate it. My friends are wise enough to know that sometimes I don’t know what I am talking about, and I tend to minimize things that feel overwhelming. I was naïve and wrong. Getting married is a big freaking deal, and it should be celebrated. Like forty times. In a row.

I am happy to have each of you in my life to pull me along and give me a little nudge when I need it. You are all very special, and I thank you for putting up with my 10% (maybe 20%) of ridiculousness to get to the 90% (or 80%) of greatness. I just wanted to take a moment to celebrate each of you!

- Lauren, Auspiciously friended    

Style, Stylee, Stylish, Stylin'

I am going to be really honest with this post. I am trying to work out my relationship with the concept of style* and how it fits into my professional future. Not in a, “What will I wear to the office next week,” kind of way; more like, “What do I do with this passion that I have for style.” It’s something that I have been wrestling with for a few weeks after a friend politely pointed that adding style into my work is an option, and the answer hasn’t magically popped into my head. Maybe this blog post will help. OR you all will say something that could lead me down a cool path, because you are good at that.

  

I think about style A LOT in my life. I am the person who cares about having a well-balanced book shelf, and I will get rid of books/tchotchkes to achieve that goal. I have mentally redesigned my house based on cheerful, modern wallpaper that I don’t even own yet. I have already chosen the perfect crisp yet inviting shade of green for my future private mental health practice, which I can’t create for another year. If I see the potential in a clothing item, I will secretly keep it for years, while at the same time throwing away my childhood journals. Walking into a well-curated, clean, modern store actually allows me to breathe more deeply then when I walked in. I have a power color for god’s sake. Basically, style takes up a big part of my brain. 

In a way, I find that space-taking as kind of embarrassing, because style can feel so frivolous at times. When I am feeling extra dramatic about it, I will ask myself, “Why can’t we all just go around wearing the same linen sacks and living in the same houses decorated in the same way?” Then I snap out of my curmudgeonly state and realize that is ridiculous, and it would make life very bland. Plus, who wants to live like that?

It also helps to chat with wonderful Austin stylists, like Laurel Kinney, who talks about using style to not only express yourself but to reach the next life goal, a balanced perspective of beauty and utility. This gives style a grounded relevance to my professional future and a reason to talk about it in this blog. If we see style as a source of empowerment, a tool to use to move forward and to bring joy, then it becomes extremely important and less frivolous. 

I am still not totally sure what to do with my style passion. I feel like there is space to add style to my future in mental health/empowerment work. I am just not sure how to do that quite yet.

      

Thoughts?

- Lauren, Style enthusiast with no current place to put her energy

*Please note that when I say style, I don’t mean fashion. Fashion evokes this image of expensive labels, small sizes, horrible cleanses, and other things that generally make women feel like crap. I mean style, which is all about expressing who you are in a joyful manner. It’s your aesthetic identity.