A poet has this quirk where she will only write with black pens. If she finds one without a cap, she will seek another "whole" one and if she suddenly realizes there's a blue pen in her hand, poetic licence will be suspended until metaphors resume in black ink. Prior to a track and field event, many athletes pinch their noses, palm their fists, or glare at the finish line-- hypnotized by visualizations of a desired outcome. An awful lot of them seem to pray. A university guest speaker begins his lecture by taking three slow breaths followed by a sip of water-- relieved, that he no longer has to imagine the audience naked or in their underwear.
What habits, routines and rituals do artists need before they begin work? Power to those who spring out of bed, fully invigorated by the muse, ready to paint, sculpt, or shoot photos without preliminaries. Most of us need at least breakfast or the illusion that creativity is hindered by an empty stomach. Some rituals are quite elaborate. They involve not only breakfast but pre-dawn exercises, motivational tapes, the methodical layout of all the day's supplies and tools before organizing exactly the way the studio space has to be in order for work to begin. For others, merely the act of putting on a paint splattered apron is enough segue into the mindset necessary for art procedure. Wagnerian operas or just the radio, memorizing an inspirational quote, bouncing up and down on one's heels like you are literally, about to run right into the canvas-- are ways we have consciously or not, developed as artists to initiate ourselves for engagement. Often what we use can have absolutely no immediate connection to art other than the fact that we associate its presence with commencement: "Oh-- there's the post; time to fire up the kiln..."
The concept of an artist altar is intriguing especially for those of us who like to have images that represent creative energy in our environment. A plain shelf or location assembled with special objects imbues our task with personal relevance and meaning. These honorary icons could be anything: shells, crystals, candles, sheets of writing, postcards, photos, an old shoe-- all subject to rearrangement, change and update. Some artists lack work space away from the distractions and demands of family and home. Time, smuggled in between the caretaking of others, combines with space that is used only after another purpose is completed there first. An altar provides a locus where the artist temporarily "parks" the need for active expression and where they can also, "pick themselves up from" later. A brief pause in front of the altar, touching, re-examining contents, allows artists to remind themselves of their intentions, renew heart's desire for work, and to concentrate on a connection to creative impulse so evident in front of them. In situations where fatigue and stress compromise what scant time does free up for work, re-acquaintance with oneself through an artist altar is worth consideration for its potential generation of activity.
What allows me to enter my work is pretty basic. I function best when the work area is an absolute shrieking mess. The more dishevelled, tactile, and sensory the atmosphere, the better. I take it as a personal challenge to cull harmony and order--a.k.a the work of art-- from such chaos. This is a small problem when you live in a one bedroom apartment and the living room is your studio. Visitors have delicately remarked on how careful and detailed my canvasses are compared to the cyclone that ripped through the premises. Where another artist needs clean surfaces and vacuumed floors to launch into session, some of us are content when rags and loose papers bury the phone, and mustard seasons a table where drawings happen and lunch is eaten with one leg propped over an edge. There are artists who open a can of solvent or a jar of glue and the sachet of released vapours in a well-ventilated room is impetus enough for printmaking. Whatever works and to each their own, no matter how bizarre or neurotic. The whoopee cushion tacked up on a wall to instill levity during excess sobriety is just as valid as a short meditation to relax and loosen up prior to artmaking. Talismans, charms, idiosyncrasies. Gentle obsessions, minor habits or tricks intended for self motivation are never wasted if they contribute towards art production. Of course, if we expend too much effort in unnecessary preparations that exceed the actual time spent doing the work, avoidance may be an issue.
But that's another story.
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