Why Abstract?
My art work prior to 2009 was largely realistic, or figurative. I progressed from narrative images, to self-portraits to drapery “portraits”. I had some modest successes in the art world with large self-portraits progressing into drawings and paintings of drapery and garments.
The final large drapery “portrait” depicted an open coat (part of a series of open coat images) with hanging nets full of drapery. It probably sounds weird, but it felt like a progression. It was almost abstract, yet still playing with drapery forms. I wasn’t trying to set the art world on fire, but was trying to remain true to the original impetus while exploring new directions.
I ended up pursuing these themes through drawing, rather than painting, creating sculptural forms with nets and drapery and drawing them in pencil.
In some ways, I feel like the promise of the last large painting was lost in the work I then pursued. But maybe I wasn’t ready. Maybe I was too afraid. I don’t remember ever having conscious thoughts around this, but I did have a lot invested in the body of work preceding this.
Over time I had developed considerable skills in drawing. I felt like it was a medium I could control. My art world profile rested on my large drawings and that was what I had been doing (successfully) for many years.
I remember working on a drawing based on two nets which frustrated and confused me. I wasn’t as invested as I thought I was and I eventually lost interest entirely. But with a misguided, dogged determination I kept working on this drawing. (And I’ve never liked it)
I always finished a piece once I get to a certain stage - even at the cost of my sanity! I often felt like I had a whole art milieu looking over my shoulder, creating pressure and intruding on my process - even though I was alone in my studio.
Despite all this, I don’t regret those years - they contributed to who I am as a painter (and as a person), but looking back I understand that I didn’t yet know how to change - and that change comes at a cost.
Time, and reflection allowed change to happen.
Taking a break from my practice and from the art world meant I could make more choices - different choices, based in my grounded self rather than any need to impress or live up to my own, or others’ expectations. Therapy and self-discovery helped me find a new way of being and doing .
Detail of “Coat of Nets” 2009, oil on linen canvas
Why have I chosen to "re-launch" myself as an artist?
In 2008, my role as Head of Painting and Drawing at the South Australian School of Art ended. I had been hired to replace someone for 3 years and the 3 years were up. I guess I expected to be offered something else, but it seemed like I would be waiting to be offered sessional work.
This was a situation I was trying to avoid, mainly because of its financial instability and the precarious nature of the employment. Its also underrecognised and doesn’t always lead to more stable work.
I applied for a number of academic roles in visual arts and had lots of interviews. I was offered 2 positions, one in Riyhad and one in Melbourne.
I accepted the position in Melbourne, but after a week of negotiating my teaching load and speaking with my colleagues and managers, I received a phone call telling me the position was no longer available - there were too many students. I had organised a celebration dinner with friends for that night, but now I had to tell them all that everything had fallen through.
I was devastated and exhausted.
I didn't know what to do.
After much soul searching, I eventually chose not to pursue more academic roles. As part of the process of coming to terms with this new reality, I also decided to have therapy.
Whether justified or not, I felt like the art world had chewed me up and was now spitting me out. Don't get me wrong. I know there are so many people out there struggling. I know there are many who just don't have the resources that I had to fall back on, the opportunities that I was given or the time to change.
But, for me, it was a hard time.
As my therapy unfolded, I came to realise the depth of my childhood trauma - and the extent of my family's dysfunction.
After graduating in social work and achieving my mental health accreditation, I started a private practice, keen to help young people who may have been suffering through the same kind of trauma that I had experienced.
Although there were a few hiccups and missteps in taking on this challenging new career, I eventually found my niche and enjoyed making a difference in the lives of people who had been through childhood trauma. The work was hard but meaningful and made me feel like I was giving back.
Throughout this period, and with the help of my therapist, I grew as a person and came to appreciate the connections I made and the people I helped.
While I was studying, I couldn't do much art.
I had a show right at the beginning of my course but I couldn't keep up with my assessments and maintain an art world profile. I was pretty exhausted. I decided to take a break and just focus on this new venture, at least for the forseeable future.
But art always has a way of coming back to us
It had been such a big part of my life. I started dabbling again. At first, I started making books. I learned some skills from youtube tutorials and gave away handmade journals and notebooks to friends and family. Then I started doing little watercolour landscapes in my handmade journals.
I spent some time experimenting with watercolour and found I loved the abstract effects - it was easy - and hard - and I couldn't control it. Maybe that was part of the appeal.
My earlier work had been so controlled, planned and detailed, full of an intense and necessary meaning. But now, I didn't need that scaffolding anymore. I was more grounded, but I also felt free.
So here I am.
“Painting tells me how to feel. It allows me to explore without preconceptions or direction. In it I have my own space.”