I cared a lot more about going viral when I was in my 20s. I wanted to post that perfect photo, the perfect poem, the perfect Tweet. Even here on WordPress I was so invested in trying to get shared on Freshly Pressed that I had multiple blogs and would post to each of them every single day. Honestly, I don’t know how I did it. These days I can hardly post two blogs a month.
When I got into my 30s, life became less about “being a famous author” and more about being a decent human being. An authentic, decent human being. I think raising a daughter as strong-willed and stubborn as I am has knocked me down a few pegs. Motherhood has taught me that there are more important things than making it big.
My festive mood started before Halloween this year, which is weird for me because Halloween has always been my favorite. I usually go all out with the spooky decor in my front yard and the well-planned costumes. But this year I was ready for that cozy, glittery, festive time in which I could eat comfort foods, decorate cookies, and snooze by the blazing fireplace. Needless to say, when the jack-o-lanterns came down I was setting up my Christmas village and buying fire logs.
I get it. You had an unsuccessful event, or an unsuccessful class, or zero luck in sales for over a month and now you’re wondering if it’s time to dust off the LinkedIn profile in order to help pay the bills. You’re wondering why you don’t just get a “real job.” You’re wondering where you went wrong.
First of all, you’re not a “bum” so stop calling yourself that. Lazy people don’t run their own businesses. You’re just an artist who hit her wan in the natural order of things.
Right now I’m in the wax moment of this natural order. My creativity is sky high, and classes have never been better. I just sold FOUR PAINTINGS at the solo show in Columbia and I’m excited to see if any more sell in the coming weeks. Two weeks from now you will be at the St. Louis Art in the Park, something that, two years ago, was a far-fetched dream written down in your journal. And from this weekend until November, you are booked solid with events.
I’m not telling you this to rub it in your face. I’m telling you this to prove that you are successful. A bad event or a small pause in sales does not equal failure. It’s normal. Part of being an artist is recognizing that.
I can almost hear your thoughts right now as you enter this five-hundredth existential crisis. You’re wondering if you should just switch over to photography full time or go back to illustration because “back when you did that everyone seemed to like it.” I’m here to tell you NO. You’ve gone through this cycle a billion times and you always wind up right where I am today: back doing scribbles and teaching intuitive art and re-normalizing the website from the discombobulated mess we made when we decided to go ahead and try those different paths.
Those paths have dead ends. They aren’t your career path. They are passions of yours, sure, and very fun at times. But that doesn’t mean you have to monetize them. Why can’t they just be passions? Because you’re good at them? You’re good at gluten-free baking, too, is it time to open your own bakery? No?
This is not the time to be making any rash decisions. It’s actually the time to take a break.
Take a week or two (or longer) to do things that are completely unrelated to art. Take the dog on hikes, play video games with the kiddo, go for a jog. TURN OFF THE PODCASTS and DELETE PINTEREST until you get back into your groove. Get back into learning French on Duolingo. Take naps. Find a new show to binge-watch. Clean. Your. House. Anything to get you out of your own head.
Most of all I want you to remember your why.
Today my mindset is this: I want the world to know more about the power of scribbling and what it can do for your mental health. I want to create art that touches others souls and gives them something to ponder over for years as it hangs on their wall. I want my work to hang in a museum and promote the joy of going back to that childlike mentality of process over product. I want to inspire others to know more about themselves, to meditate with a crayon, to keep their own wordless diary.
And right now your bio at your solo show says the following: I’m a big advocate for the whole “l’art pour l’art” mentality, or “art for art’s sake.” Creating art simply for the process of creating it, to enjoy the feel of the pen or brush or Apple pencil, brings forth a different kind of honesty I’m not able to express with words. Intuitive art has given me the opportunity to learn more about myself and where I fit in with the rest of the world. For me, each piece comes down to one question: what am I feeling right now? I ask this question to determine what medium to use, what colors, even what music to listen to while I work. This can lead to a variety of different pieces, each of them a window into my deepest identity.
I hope you will take these words into account and take my (your own) advice. You’d be doing yourself, and your art, a disservice if you don’t. Don’t forget the Tao philosophy, the yin-yang, that the night will soon turn to day, the ocean wave will gush back, that the roots will curl into a sprout. Find the lesson(s) in your current Yin phase so that you’ll be stronger when you get back to the Yang.
This is merely the belly of the whale, and the character always emerges from that, and always emerges evolved.
My solo show, which I’ve been calling “Hidden Feelings” has officially been hung at Central Bank of Boone County in Columbia, Missouri USA. If you live around the area, or happen to be passing through, I’d love it if you stopped by to check it out.
For those of you who are not in the area, and for those of you who would like a deeper understanding of the works hanging on the wall, I’ve put together this list of each piece and what inspired its creation.
This is PART TWO of that list. I highly encourage you to check out PART ONE so that you can learn more about the exhibit and its meaning, as well as the first ten pieces you will see as you walk through the show.
I get a lot of questions about intuitive art, both online and in the classroom. Most of the time I have a prompt response that satisfies the question. Other times I give a half-hearted response because I need to think over it some more. Intuitive art is weird like that. Some days I have it figured out and the next day I have no idea what any of it means.
Now that I’ve had some time to think them through I figured I’d come on here and answer a few of these questions that I didn’t quite have the answer for at the time. I also have a few extra questions in there that were easier to respond to, but I felt deserved to be shared with you here.
There was a quote I heard several years ago on a podcast. I no longer remember the podcast or the host name/interviewee name (nor can I find it online—sorry) but the quote was “Paint what makes your heart hurt.”
Immediately after hearing the phrase I went to Pinterest to make a board of things that make my heart hurt. Rainy days, clothes on a windy line, quiet candlelight, crunchy autumn leaves…
But I realize today that those moments of heart-hurting are fleeting. I’m like a helium balloon, floating from one moment to the next, never able to hold onto certain emotions for long. I need something to anchor me down to that feeling, keep me immersed in the water for a bit, so to speak.
The Lina of the past wrote in the beginning of her 2022 Passion Planner that she wanted to “establish herself as an intuitive artist” by May. She also wrote that she wanted to finally start showing in Columbia, show in St. Louis, have a large-scale series, and to move to a new house with a studio space (with lots of natural lighting). While not all of those things happened this year, I can say, as Present Lina, that I had a pretty decent 2022.
But it wasn’t without its mishaps, trials and failures, and good old fashioned life. There was no way we could have predicted the massive inflation here in the U.S., the drunk moron who would total our second car in June, or the death of our beloved Canary, Apple. We, as a family, also caught Covid a week before our vacation, something we had tried so hard to prevent with vaccines, masks, and hand-sanitizer. Is it time to quote John Lennon here? I think it is:
“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
That might actually be my biggest takeaway from the year 2022, that no matter how well-planned you are, Murphy is still right around the corner, waiting to throw you a curve ball that will send you down a completely different path. 2022 added new therapists, med regimes, and a second car payment. If I could change anything, it would be only to bring Apple back, so I can hear him sing during the sunrise, and while watching musicals on TV.
I think it’s important for all of us to take a moment to reflect on this past year. What popped up that was out of your control? What did you accomplish and what did you mess up? Did you learn any important lessons? How are you different today than you were on January 1st? Doing this kind of reflection is a great way to prep you for the impending 2023.
Here’s mine:
Successes of 2022
Art in the Park: This was an event I had been getting accepted to since 2020 but due to the pandemic was unable to participate as it was canceled each year since. Except this year! I finally got to see what it was like to be a part of a huge, multiple-day art festival. Not only that, but it was a big eye-opener as to what the public is drawn to and how to give my booth a more “professional” look for next year’s event. I even gained some networking points and am now part of the 1st Fridays in Columbia.
Columbia Art League: This is one of the art galleries in Columbia, and the one I had been wanting to submit to for so long but could never work myself up to it. This year I decided that since I was going to be a part of Art in the Park, that a membership to this gallery was a must, and I have since been a part of several of their exhibitions and have even made a few sales and won an honorable mention ribbon.
The Eccentric Chai Podcast: Perhaps my biggest success of the year is my podcast, Eccentric Chai. I had been tossing around the idea of starting a podcast since 2020, but it wasn’t until this year that I finally decided to go for it, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought! Just like everything else, it’s a learn-as-you-go process. With the podcast I had to learn how to use Audacity, how to get my podcast on multiple platforms, and how to prevent myself from spending the entire week working on one episode. I have big plans for the podcast in the year 2023 and I’m excited to get started.
This painting was a fail for me, but that’s common with intuitive art.
Mishaps
I don’t want to call these “failures” because technically you never “fail” at something unless you give up entirely. These things are more mishaps, and so that’s what I’m calling them.
Doubting Myself and My Art: This isn’t necessarily a preventable mishap, as this is practically in the job description of an artist. At some point we will doubt ourselves, our art, our “brand”, our “style”, and everything in between. We will worry that we aren’t contributing enough to our family when we don’t sell enough. We will worry that we are spending too many events “working” and not enough events just spending time with our families. We will get overwhelmed with FOMO and Impostor Syndrome and existential crises and all those other fun issues we deal with as creatives. But it’s important to not let these issues bog us down, rather remind us why we chose this career path in the first place. Why do you do what you do? I’ve only just recently figured this out and it’s the end of the year. So don’t beat yourself up if you’re still confused.
Patreon: I don’t know why I keep trying with Patreon (I suppose I should read above), but I gave it another go this year and it has still barely gained any momentum. My hope is to better my marketing skills in 2023 so that I can get more patrons. A steady paycheck is very important to this career, and Patreon is one of the only places—other than teaching—that I have found to give me that option.
Marketing: Which brings me to marketing. This is yet another learn-as-you-go process. You find what works and what doesn’t. As Andy J. Pizza would say, you have to “write while onstage.” But my issue is that I didn’t add any further research to my marketing tool bag. I need to focus on my professional development in 2023, read a few books on business and maybe even take a class. The better I am at marketing, the better I will be able to prevent the previous two mishaps.
Lessons Learned
There’s too many to write about, so here’s a list:
How to better set up my booth at events
How to make flyers and brochures for marketing
How to host a podcast
Consistency is KEY
When you finish a painting, FOLLOW THROUGH. Scan it, post it on your shop, frame it, don’t just toss it in your portfolio and move on.
Take a break (the world won’t end, and neither will your career)
Your best moments in this career will not be monetary. Instead they will be the time your student called your intuitive art class, “finger painting for grow-ups,” the time a mother cried because her son was so passionate about art camp, and that evening you taught intuitive art to cancer survivors.
To-do lists will change your life
Goals for 2023
I’ve already mentioned a few, but let’s get specific.
Podcast Interviews: I have always loved listening to artist interviews on other podcasts, and have wanted to do the same on my own podcast. 2023 will be the year I finally start interviewing other artists.
50 Patrons: It’s not a huge number, but it’s a specific one, and specific goals are always much more obtainable than general ones. Once I add those marketing skills to my tool bag, my goal is to get this number before the end of 2023.
Watercolor Classes: I have given them in the past, but now I want to give them weekly. Because of the lesson I learned that “consistency is key,” I know that weekly classes, held on the same day at the same time, are far more successful than the occasional, sporadic classes. I also want to start doing my intuitive art classes weekly as well.
Work Larger: This was a goal for 2022, and while I did work larger, I didn’t finish anything large. But I have some new ideas and I can’t wait to get started on some big surfaces. It will be one step closer to my career goal of painting a mural in the city.
2022 had its flaws, as does any year, but damn it was a good one (and busy). The amount of events I did in 2021? Two or three. The amount of events I did in 2022? Over FIFTEEN (and I still have two more scheduled this month)! I exhibited in new places, taught kids’ camps, won 1st place in the Chalk Art competition, and became a part of the Art Heals project here in Jefferson City. My family and I went to St. Louis to see the Van Gogh exhibit (Goo said it was one of the best days of her life), traveled to Cedar Point (on a plane!) and rode a busy subway to downtown Chicago.
Don’t get me wrong, we had our shit days. We struggled with the inflation and gas prices. We had to watch what was happening in the world on the news and feel completely powerless. We buried Apple beneath a tree on a cold January day.
But my hope is that I can take these moments and put them in the “I lived through it” file. I don’t want to dwell on them, but I don’t want to forget them. And I want to give the fun stuff more focus. A lot of times we only remember the bad stuff, but it’s the bad stuff that makes the good stuff good. Right? That might be the biggest takeaway from the year.
My 2023 New Year’s Resolution is to pay more attention to the good stuff, the good memories, the good feelings, the fun days with the family. To not let them be overpowered by the bad stuff, but rather enhanced by it.
Until next year, may your Holiday food be hot and filling, and you and your families be happy and healthy. See you in 2023!
When I first started the Eccentric Chai podcast I didn’t have much going on in my career. It was during a slow time of year for me and I was adamant that I would be able to get one episode finished per week. And for a while that worked out okay.
But things have picked up so much since the summertime that I just do not have the time to get a podcast episode out each week. Frankly, it would be a disservice to the podcast and my listeners to just slap something together each week for the sake of keeping up the weekly trend.
So I’ve decided to make the Eccentric Chai podcast a bi-weekly thing. Every other Friday a new episode will launch on Anchor, my website, and will be shared on my social media feeds. So keep your eyes peeled!
What else is new in the land of Lina?
I’ve been painting with acrylics a lot, but I just can’t get it right. You know that feeling when you feel like you’re just on the cusp of something? Some sort of breakthrough? That’s me right now.
I’ve also been doing my best to keep up with my version of Inktober, which I named Psychoprompts. I’m at day 18 (woot) and still making it somehow.
As for the blog, I will do my very best to keep it up weekly, but with the holidays just around the corner I can’t make any promises. So, if you don’t hear from me, know that it means good things. It means that my business is so much busy-ness that I can’t find the time to sit down and write to you.
Until next time, may your own creative endeavors be busy and fruitful.
I couldn’t tell you why it only just now occurred to me this morning that you can make spooky intuitive scribbles but I suppose this is yet another example of how our thought processes have a tendency to put everything into a box, blinding us to what’s really possible. For the past several years I’ve spent my Octobers drawing fun figures with skulls for heads and painting gouache ghosts, and while that’s still true—because I can never resist making my own prompts for Inktober and creeping people out with eerie, skeletal paintings—I have been feeling sort of locked in place, as if those were my only two options to go spooky in the fall.
But today is yet another Wordless Wednesday! And I like to scribble on these days. Lately I’ve been doing a lot of black and white scribbles, occasionally adding a delicate pink if I really feel it in my gut. This is probably due to me watching a lot of Helen Wells reels on Instagram. She’s awesome at what she does and her sketchbooks make me super jealous. So this morning when I got on Instagram to start filming my own reel for Wordless Wednesday, I decided I would only work in black and use the white of the paper as my contrast.
Spooky piano music emanating from my iPad I also decided to turn on a filter that made the whole video black and white with a bit of shakiness/filmy appearance to add a creepy, old-fashioned vibe. I decided that I would try to draw creepy marks and shapes instead of my usual nature shapes (leaves, tree branches, roots, etc.)
It did pose the question: what makes a mark creepy? This is one of those times when I realize those random illustration classes I’ve taken in the past might help with this. In them I learned that sharp edges have a tendency to make us feel tense, as do jagged lines, and so I figured that was a good place to start.
I also took past reactions to the landscapes I’ve made with eyes peeping out from between the hills. No matter how “happy” or “beautiful” I made the landscape/colors/shapes the eyes would always freak out my audience. Which I loved. So I knew I would have to add a few of those.
Then there is the shape I like to call “goopy.” It almost appears as though something is oozing down the page. With a piece filled with eyes and jagged edges, I’m sure anyone’s mind will begin to wander at the sight of all that goop.
Still, once I finished this morning’s scribble I began to wonder what other marks could one make if he/she/they wanted to give his/her/their work an eerie vibe? So I put together a small visual list for you in case you’d like to add a few details that will give your audience goosebumps.
Long, thin lines.
Tim Burton is king at this, right? His characters are often unnaturally tall, and they have lines on their clothing to accentuate that effect. Why does he do this? Because long, vertical lines have a tendency to make us feel uneasy. And unnaturally tall characters, even if they’re nice, can give us a subconscious shudder.
Hair-like lines
Not long and tall like Burton’s, and not simply vertical but pointing in multiple directions. I chose these types of lines because when we use things that are not uniform, it makes viewers feel uneasy. They also make me think of spider legs, which is creepy enough on its own.
Angular Shapes
This goes along with what I’ve learned in previous illustration classes, that sharp edges have a tendency to make us feel tense. Because when we see sharp, our minds think “danger.”
A solid black shape
What’s more ominous than a black shape? What is it? Why is it there? Is there something lurking in it? I’m getting creeped out just thinking about it. Bonus points if the black shape is your subject.
Use the Psychology of Color
Say your piece is mostly monochromatic, but you really want to add an element of danger, or evil, or just an eerie chill. This is when you can use the psychology of color against your audience. For instance, red, is a danger color. We use it for Do Not Enter signs and Stop signs and Warning signs because of the feeling it provokes in our brains. It also might make us think of fire, as does orange. Using either of these colors might make a piece feel more dangerous, or “evil” as we might associate fire with demons or hell. Another color you could use, especially if you want your audience to feel kind of icky, is green. This color can be pleasant if we have it in a pretty landscape or the painting of a rose, but add it to an almost black image of a creature lurking in a dark cave, and then we’re downright grossed out. Another color, like a desaturated bluish gray, can make your piece feel cold and can set a lonely/frigid atmosphere.
Make it off-balanced
Use diagonal lines, or shapes that appear almost sporadic. Give your painting a tilt so that your viewer almost feels as though the subject is going to fall.
Whatever you decide to paint/sculpt/scribble/photograph/etc., I hope these tips will help you add the extra creepy vibe.
What sorts of things do you like to add to your work to make it super spooky? Talk about it in the comments below!
I remember first attempting meditation when I was fifteen years old. I sat on the floor of my tiny square bedroom, the only light being a single candle in front of me. Twenty years ago, the internet was still in its infancy, and so I’m not entirely sure where I learned how to meditate. Most likely a magazine. Regardless, I felt prepared enough to give it a try. I did what the instructions had said, to focus only on the candle, and that if things pop into my head I was to acknowledge them, then go back to looking at the candle. I’ll be honest, as a fifteen-year-old that made no sense to me. I found myself focusing too hard on focusing, then drifting off to random teenager thoughts, before going back to focusing too hard on focusing, even squinting my eyes to make doubly sure I was only looking at the flame.
Nowadays, even with the internet in our literal pockets, I still haven’t found an article that can describe meditation efficiently enough for fifteen-year-old Lina. I think it’s because meditation is…kind of hard to explain. And for someone who is super visual, learning how to meditate by reading an online article, or a spread in a magazine, is going to end in squinty eyes and frustration.
It wasn’t until I took Marie-Noelle Wurm’s class on free form abstract art that I began to understand. Now, four years later, I have a firm enough grasp on the idea of meditative art that I feel confident enough to pass on the info. Especially for those of you who are visual like me, and need more than just a candle to keep your mind centered.
For this exercise you will only need a pencil and a piece of paper. We’re not going to go too crazy.
Next you need to find a quiet place to sit. Whether it’s in a coffee shop or a laundry room, you just need to find a place where there are no major distractions.
Finally, you can work in silence, or if you’re like me and are distracted by silence, you can put on some music. Make sure the music is also not distracting. Nothing with words or rising and falling crescendos that force you to stop to change the volume.
Before you begin, remember the only thing I want you to focus on here once you put pencil to paper is just that. The pencil on the paper. As you work I want you to listen to the pencil on the paper, watch the pencil move as if you are a bystander watching someone else draw. If at some point you realize you’re thinking about something else—that’s normal—then just return your attention to the pencil.
When you’re finally ready to begin, I want you to pretend you are writing, but don’t use actual letters. Just flourish and scribble and move from left to right as if you’re writing a letter. This is called asemic writing.
Once again, pay attention to that pencil only, even if you have to focus on where it actually touches the paper. Let your hand move automatically, not consciously. When you notice your mind wander, return to that pencil. It might feel tricky at first but once you get into the flow of things it almost will feel as though you are moving with your own natural rhythm. Because you are.
Don’t stop until you’ve filled the page with your “letter.”
Congratulations! You’ve just meditated.
As you practice more and more you will be able to try other methods such as filling your paper with circles or parallel lines. You can even move up to other mediums like ink or even paint. It doesn’t matter what you use or create, all that matters is you keep those automatic motions and focus only on the medium as it touches the surface. In other words remain present.
How do you like to meditate? Is it something you do daily or whenever you need the water to clear? Talk to me!
Don’t forget to tune in the Eccentric Chai podcast this Friday!
Scribble Chai 