2021: A Year of Growth

When we first stepped out of 2020, I’m sure a lot of us were like Frodo after the ring melted in the fires of Mordor.

And at first it seemed we were coming out of it, especially when the vaccines arrived, but it wasn’t long for me (and most of us, I’m sure) to see that 2021 was more of the same. We still had to wear masks, still had to use hand sanitizer after pumping gas, still had to worry when one of us started to run a fever or uttered a minor cough. This also meant that a lot of the events I was sure would be coming back in 2021, were canceled yet again.

Because of this weird limbo state of having one foot in normalcy and the other still in pandemic-land, my art career continued to feel more like a light at the end of the tunnel instead of a full-time job. Though I understood–and was thankful for it–why certain events were canceled, I still felt something like a leaf in a stream that had gotten tangled in some old debris. While the current continued beside me, I was stuck.

Still, despite it all, I managed to find comfort in many different things that I might not have otherwise, such as journaling (with words) and returning to nature with my detached lens. 2021 for me became less about career growth, and more about personal growth. I learned to slow down. That I had the time, even if I’d convinced myself otherwise, to do something that didn’t have monetary value.

I recently listened to the final podcast of the year by Creative Pep Talk. It was about how to make 2022 different, instead of more of the same. The big takeaway was to take insight from 2021, sure, but to also try new things. New begets new. More of the same begets…well…sameness.

In order to take away the insight 2021 had to offer, we were to make a list of our mistakes and our breakthroughs, and to write the “big lie” we’d told ourselves throughout the year. Doing this exercise gave me some serious hindsight and showed me exactly what I needed to change for myself in 2022.

For me, my biggest mistakes were:

  • Not taking enough hikes
  • Ignoring certain passions and hyper-focusing on others (example: ignoring my photography because it wasn’t my “job” and giving all of my attention to the art biz.)
  • Working in the evenings and/or on weekends

But I also had some serious breakthroughs:

  • The Bunnified Project on Twitter
  • Being interviewed for the local paper complete with photoshoot and front page shoutout
  • Getting back into photography
  • Taking over the After School Art Club at the local gallery
  • Starting the Kids’ Photography Club in our city

One big takeaway from my breakthroughs was that getting the community involved with art and/or starting conversations about art (all types of art) is super rewarding to me. This was why the Bunnified project was so meaningful, and why I found I loved running the After School Art Club.

Finally, what was the biggest lie I told myself in 2021 regarding my creative practice?

Actually, I had two big lies that went hand-in-hand.

Lie #1: I don’t have the time.

Lie #2: I have to choose a focus/passion and stick with it, even if it means ignoring my other passions because of Lie #1.

When I look back on 2021 I see that I did, in fact, have a ton of time to do the things I neglected. I know it’s hard to find that mentality when in the thick of things, especially when you are your own boss and have the control over whether or not you get paid, but it’s important for us to remember that the business will still be there when we return. Even if we take a day, a week, or even a month off.

How do I hope to make 2022 a different year?

Well, for starters, I’m going to GET OUT MORE. Being cooped up in the house isn’t as healthy as I’d like to pretend it is, and I get all sluggish and mentally cluttered. Getting out into the fresh air, even for a ten minute walk, does my brain some serious good. The hardest part is leaving the house. Once I’ve gotten past the front door, the rest should be a breeze.

I’m going to focus on allowing myself to take more breathers, to allow myself to have evenings off and weekends so that I can hang out with the fam, maybe play some board games, learn how to use my new Dutch oven. And every time I hear one of the two lies above in my head, I’m just going to repeat Mrs. Chudd in Chrysanthemum:

“Thank you for sharing that with us. Now put your head down.”

I’ve already gotten a head start by redoing my website so that it allows all of my creative passions to show, not just the illustration ones. And I’m working on not using specific categories for myself like “illustrator” or “pattern designer” or even “photographer.” Any time I hear one of these labels pop up in reference to my creative career, I’m going to redirect myself to the generalized term: “Artist.” I might be an illustrator some days. Other days I’m a teacher. Today I’m a blogger. These are identities and they should be placed among other such identities as “mom” and “gamer” and “husky-wrangler.”

To combat this identity crisis I often have in reference to my art career, I’ve returned all of my social media handles to @linaforrester. This will help me see that the things I post are from the menagerie of me, and not from one specific genre or medium. Plus it’s easier for my in-person followers to find me on the web.

Going into the next year, I wonder what lies I will tell myself in 2022, what mistakes I will make. What will my breakthroughs be? What lessons will I learn? Will I finally get into the Missouri Top 50 at the fair? Will Art in the Park actually happen this year? I think the thing about a new year that’s so intriguing is that it’s like traveling somewhere for the first time. It’s all unknown. And that makes it an adventure.

Until next time, may the lies to yourself be little and white and your breakthroughs be extra juicy.