“If creativity is a habit, then the best creativity is the result of good work habits.
They are the nuts and bolts of dreaming.”
— Twyla Tharp, The Creative Habit
I’ve jumped into the 100 Day Project on Instagram. 100 days of creativity. 100 days of a daily practice. You choose your daily practice of creativity, announce it to the world, and post it daily on Instagram.
The 100 Day Project began in 2008 and continues to evolve. The 2017 project involves sharing your daily project on Instagram with two hashtags: #100dayproject and your own special hashtag. This year's project began April 4th.
“Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.”
PRACTICE IS A RADICAL ACT IN THIS SPEEDED UP WORLD.
For the 100 day project, you declare what your project will be. Mine will be art journaling. But I have created rules for myself. I was first a daily pages journaler (just writing, no art). I have been journaling/writing every morning for almost 20 years. I come from the world of academia where you write in long sentences. As an art journaler. I want to get better at collapsing my sentences into thought bites – something you can chew on.
If a sound bite is a short extract from an interview, chosen for its pungency or appropriateness, then a thought bite (my wording) is a short extract from my head.
So my 100 Day Project is to art journal with thought bites. My personal hashtag is #100daysofthoughtbites.
I hope this is a good idea. Ask me after 100 days. I am so curious to see how it evolves.
Want to join me? Want to jump in? If you do it, let me know! We can follow each other.
“In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present.” ~ Frances Bacon
With markers in hand, I took my painting “Herr Drumpf” to an election party Tuesday night. I invited people of all ages to express their feelings about the election directly onto the painting. I considered it a way to heal from the past year of ugliness. As the evening took an unexpected turn, a different form of therapeutic art took place. “Herr Drumpf” became loaded with a weight I didn’t expect. As emotions became so tangled that evening, so did the graffiti.
Watching young and old alike graffiti over my painting soothed me. It provided a sense of comfort and community. It gave birth to colorful, grieving, angry, and sometimes hopeful messages. Providing one small avenue for people to express their emotions soothed my artist's soul.
I see the world through an artist lens. I believe
art has the power to help reconnect and heal.
Color alone can help me connect - the green
of a forest or the reds of an early morning
sunrise provide instant solace. Yet, this fall I
created a fully monochromatic painting
completely devoid of color. The color had
been drained out of me. Through the painting,
I tried to communicate that light shines through
I now need to find a way to bring the color back.
We all need to find a way to bring the color back. To bring back hope and healing. My head hurts. My heart hurts. My heart hurts for my kids, for all kids, for all minority groups, for myself. For our nation.
But I do have hope. I am already watching my own kids turn their frustration, their deep disappointment in our nation, into a commitment to do more. I believe they are representative of a new activism which will emerge - an activism based in the love of our nation. An activism based in a new understanding of identity politics. Their generation voted overwhelmingly against hatred and bigotry. I have hope that we will follow and learn from their activism.
Art is a natural way to express feelings and ideas. There are artists throughout the nation instantly taking action. Subway art in New York City. Chalk art at Webster University. Writers. Dancers. Visual artists. When I see this, I feel hope. When I watch my kids speak up, take action, I feel hope. When my students show me their paintings and their journal pages, I feel hope. There are so many ways we can all speak up, be proactive, begin. We can't be silent. We are all in this together. We must find hope in the aftermath.
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” ~ Mary Oliver
The 10 days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is a time period for deep soul searching and re-grounding, a time to regain balance, and a time to ask questions. Am I the person I want to be in this world? What am I doing to help make the world a better place? How am I helping to “repair the world”?
“Repairing the world” or Tikkun Olam is an inherent part of being Jewish. Hence, I ask myself: What acts of kindness am I, as an artist, performing to perfect or help repair the world?
When I am alone painting in my studio, choosing to be an artist feels selfish. Yet art is my solace. It helps me make sense of the world, whether through writing, painting, music, reading, or theater. Through art, I wrestle with my emotions, my circumstances, my dreams, my joys, my aches, and often, my pain. The drive to create, to express myself visually, is deep. It helps give voice to feelings that are difficult to express verbally. In the most difficult of times, my yearning for self-expression is palpable.
What is my role as an artist and tikkun olam? I often donate to worthy causes. I’m currently preparing to teach a four-week art class for victims of sexual abuse at the Women’s Center of Lansing. Over the past year I have painted a door to be auctioned off for Habitat for Humanity, sculpted an art bra for the Women’s Center, created masks for the Firecracker Foundation (a local organization that aids children of sexual trauma), donated a painting for Art for Charlie (an organization supporting pediatric hospice and parental bereavement), and was a guest artist at Reach Art Studio, a neighborhood art studio.
Yet, I’ve tried to create a life that includes tikkun olam at all levels, not just my volunteer work or “extra time.” When I think about “giving back” as an artist, it’s undoubtedly woven into the fabric of my being. I find myself drawn to organizations and events with a common thread: They believe art, in all its forms, can be a vehicle for awareness, hope, and healing.
Art reminds us of beauty and of pain, of hope and of healing. As much as I am happy to support local causes, helping others be creative and learn about themselves through the process is the most gratifying form of tikkun olam I know. When leading on-line art journaling classes or teaching mixed-media workshops, I work to help students understand themselves better and express it through their art. It is a form of self-expression that can be both disorienting and healing. This has always proven true for me and I find it true for others as well.
I know my Judaism has shaped the way I approach my art, both professionally and personally. I have been taught to reflect, trust my intuition, strive for perfection, and give back. In learning about myself through art, and then helping others create their own systems for healing and growth, I hope to help repair the world, one person at a time, one step at a time, one paintbrush at a time. In that vein, I annually reflect on Mary Oliver’s question in the back of our prayer book: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
I just came back from 8 days in the Boundary Waters Wilderness Area in northern Minnesota. It is hard to describe the stillness it created in me. Canoeing and backpacking in the Boundary Waters has been on my bucket list for a very long time. My daughter, Sarah, joined me. It was quiet and peaceful, unconnected to the material world, yet so connected to the natural world. It was just what I needed. When I close my eyes now I imagine the early morning fog and the call of the loons. And my coffee and morning journaling. Bliss.
I came home to September. Fall, to me, is about being deeply reflective. It is the start of the new year and perfectly timed with the next round of new classes to be taught and the deep goal setting questions I ask myself. My bulletin board states “Are you reaching your full potential?” and reminds me to “Be Deliberate. With Purpose.” Yet at the same time I have posted messages to myself that remind me to Slow Down, Be Still, Listen. The conflicting messages of life.
I am getting ready to start teaching the next round of my on-line art journaling class. It is one of my favorite classes to teach. It is fun to plan out, fun to watch the growth that happens, fun to help create a community of artists, fun to be part of for myself. And perhaps most importantly, teaching the class forces me to create daily. I am both a student and a teacher.
As much as I needed the Boundary Waters, I also need art. I love how art helps the soul. I love how art journaling is accessible to anyone, no matter your comfort with a paintbrush or pen. It reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut’s quote: “The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow.”
Interested in my on-line art journaling class: Good Morning Creativity! More info: www.jessicakovan.com/online-art-journaling.html
My “Shadow Side” show is packed up and taken down from Grove Gallery. Except one. I left “Herr Drumpf” behind.
I painted Herr Drumpf in a whirlwind. He evoked the creative process in me.
The canvas of each of my paintings in my Shadow Side series are filled with words that fit the image being depicted. Herr Drumpf is painted on top of Mr. Trump’s own words. I spent countless hours cutting out Trump’s words from newspaper and magazine articles. The more I read, and cut, and glued, the more his shadow side and image became clearer.
My goal for all of the paintings in this series is to show both the light and dark side of an object or issue being depicted – whether it is the game of soccer or the power of love. That said, I had a hard time finding a bright side to Mr. Trump. Perhaps, instead it was the amusement and satisfaction I felt in using the creative process to communicate my emotions. Other than that, the more I read, the more the shadows emerged. His words are scary.
Every artist has their own little victories when completing a painting. It might be finally figuring out how to paint a chocolate cupcake to look luscious or experimenting with how not to smear the ink from cut out magazine words. For Herr Drumpf, these victories were on a different level. They were decisions I made about the painting.
I refused to buy an expensive canvas for Herr Drumpf. He is painted on a garage sale canvas. Reused. Recycled. During my show, Herr Drumpf was placed in the corner on the ground. He was not allowed to hang on the wall with my other paintings. And then during my reception I turned my back on him.
AND now I have left him behind.
Do feel free, however, to visit him. And read his words. They are filled with hatred. They are racist, sexist, and xenophobic. They scare me. May we all turn our backs on him.
To see Herr Drumpf, visit: Grove Gallery, 325 Grove St, East Lansing, MI 48823
I'm always thinking about creating. My future starts when I wake up every morning... Every day I find something creative to do with my life.
For those of you that know me, I am an incredibly goal oriented person – to a fault at times. I have shied away from art journaling for years, even though it often includes WORDS. I love WORDS. Why? I don’t know. Put a word on something and I am drawn in. But art journaling? It seems so non-goal oriented, self-focused. naval gazing. And I already journal daily. I have for almost 20 years. So I didn’t need art journaling in my life.
My statement for this blog page, "inhaling life one day at a time," feels extremely accurate. How has it been a year since I've written? Yet I have been posting on Facebook - please check out my Jessica T. Kovan Art page and feel free to "like" it!
I have been fortunate to share my art in two solo shows over the past year: "Daily Gratitudes" at the Janice Charach Gallery in W. Bloomfield, MI and my current show, "Fragmented Realities," which can be seen at the Michigan Women's Historical Center and Hall of Fame in Lansing Michigan through the end of January. "Fragmented Realities" focuses on themes of love, life, hope, nature, family and community - or basically my life. Check it out!
Inhaling life one
day at a time.