Creativity and my unconscious

 

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The Rider-Waite Tarot Empress

Creativity and my unconscious

Making art is a process where the conscious meets the unconscious, and both are displayed.  I want to liberating unconscious forces, have them flow through to my work. 

Why? Because I believe that the strongest work that I`ve done is so because it speaks about more than what is seen but also expresses my unconscious. It gains an additional force. If what I make lacks the element of unconscious revealing, then it is sterile, merely a craft product.

Let`s say I go painting and seek a motif to work from. I walk through a range of scenery before settling on a place to work from. My choice of motif is governed by conscious and unconcious forces, by what feels exciting, comfortable, interesting, mysterious or new to me. I`ll be influenced by known factors (I know I like trees) but also by unconscious forces (I am not sure why one specific cluster of birches draws me so). 

I am open to what resonates with me and to where that takes me, however odd that might be, however outside tradition or whatever decorative customs might govern expectations about art.

As I proceed to represent the motif, I am again affected by conscious and unconscious forces which drive my decisons- the size of the motif, the emphasis I give on particular colours, the surroundngs, the colours and textures and the way my brush describes the contours of the motif, giving one thing or another emphasis and so forth.

At one stage I might feel something is amiss, seek to abandon the piece as being "not quite right", while at others be strongly convinced that I am "getting somewhere". None of these can easily be articulated and they are really the result of unconscious forces which have their own mysterious laws.

 At least, this is the case if I allow the unconscious forces to operate by maintining openness to them.

To contrast: I might be an achitecture student and my artistic choices would be circumscribed by the need to represent a pre-selected building, showing its elevations clearly for the study of other architects, and to follow certain recongnised conventions to allow easy analysis of what I depict. 

Or I might have had the conscious notion that depicting a specific house in a certain style would be comercially appealing.

But I cannot force the unconscious to appear from nowhere. Indeed, the more I try the more it hides. All I can do is patiently go, and hope it rises. So I go and work habituually and sometimes this inner force appears, and at other times not.

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Developing rituals for making art

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Developing rituals for making art

The Riderr-Waite Tarot Magician

Art often has a ritual aspect it its making. The artist might always pick up a coffee on their way to the studio, always align the paints on the palettte in a certain way, take a meditative pause, as Japanese Sumi-e artists do before working- these rtiuals make them very aware that they are underting a special activity or  workspace.

If one wishes to make an art which is especially open to unconscious forces, which is best?

In my case, if I am to make art in the manner described previously in Creativity and my unconscious and go for a walk through a range of scenery, what form of ritualisation heps me to bring forth my unconscious? 

A useful ritual:

- should dimish expectations: this will make it easier to work, because one will be less nervous

- should be reassuring:  this helps one feel that there is something right about the task

- be constraining: Thus your focus is lmited, leds to greater concentration

Ritualisation could involve: packing certain art materials, chosing specific clothes, taking snacks. Thus I emphasise to myself how I am engaging in a specific activity with perculiar value. The ritual is known, safe and reassuring., yet at the same time posesses some mysterius element. Perhaps it should be a little boring? Perhaps going painting at the same time, every day might be beneficial? Perhaps the mysterious element is in the transformative artistic process itself?

I believe the construction of a safe space for unconscious flow can perhaps be achieved through limiting the cost of artistic failure to the point where it scarcely matters.

This means taking cheaper materials, making little fuss, lowering prepertion time and reducing travel. 

And I think a mental set in which failure to arrive in the "zone of unconscious flow" is essential: a sort of acceptence of failure, so that one oesn`t feel inhibited,

The ritual accomodating these needs must contain easefulness, so that mental flow fom the unconscious occurs as readily as possible. 

For me, this ritual is in the arrival at a place not too far off, a brief perusal of the different perspectives the rapid erection of an easel, the opening of simply one bag, then taking just one or two brushes, being careful with these items, placing them on a cloth. One then puts a little paint on the palette, and after a meditative pause begins work on the support which is of cheaper material, nothing costing very much...

Through such simple rituals a safe space is constructed allowing iunconscious forces to rise.

Then ending the work should have some process surely?

For me this means ariving at a state of recognition that the process has reached an end, putting away my things,after a pause, leaving. ON arrival home later reflectionthere  on the piece and the experience.

 If the piece is deemed satisfactory, it can be shown to the world, buththat is another game altogether.

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Creativity and the unconscious mind: Guardian article by Ap Dijksterhuis

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 Creativity and the unconscious mind

This article by Guardian article by Ap Dijksterhuis sums up what I have believed for a while, but only had my own experience to base my conclusions on.

https://www.theguardian.com/wellness/2025/sep/10/creativity-unconscious-process-incubation

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A little drive south

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A little drive south

 

 

The way to Urussanga: a three hour drive

 

All being well, on Monday I go down to Laguna, a charming town with nice old buildings, and then on to Urussanga. I suppose I spend four nights away. I'm going to book hotels on the way.

 I now have a little laptop, and the idea is that I continue teaching as necessary online and get to go painting in new places.  I haven't done this before though I should have. 

 

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Painting has been quite difficult lately, I think partly because of overfamiliarity with certain motifs. You get dulled by ease and familiarity.

Hence, travel.

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Painting

Art critics have often declared the "death of painting", much as literary critics have declared "the death of the novel".

As a vehicle for innovative thought painting is clearly a reduced force. It simply isn't easy to respond spontaneously to a medium which has such a long, distinguished pedigree. Even artistic trends which were once perceived as wayward, and radical are now weighed down with academic discourse. Abstract expressionism, for instance is now a considered tradition, with "masters" and "schools", as is Surrealism. And images and information about individual works is much more readily available. This means that when you're working on a piece it's hard to avoid making comparisons with the work of other artists- comparisons which "cramp your style".

And personally, I feel when I am working in other media, such as wire, or playing with paper a lightness and creative energy that can be hard to find when mixing paints.

However, in the right frame of mind, there really is nothing comparable to the expressive wit of painting. I mean, the delightful process of applying pressing a paint laden brush to a canvas, of mixing colours- the physicality of this is delicious. Although the painting I worked on yesterday (above) falls into the Kupka -Klee - Nicolas de Staël - Franz Kline school of geometric abstraction the physical pleasure of handling paint is enough to make it worthwhile, and its possible failure to explore new creative territory pales in significance.

For such sensory reasons alone- the pleasure of handling paint- I think that even if painting declines in importance, and ceases to be taught in art schools, it'll never totally disappear.

The painting above is a tribute to Paul Celan, and is titled, "Where did the road lead when it led nowhere?"

There was earth inside them, and they dug.

They dug and they dug, so their day
went by for them, their night. And they did not praise God,
who, so they heard, wanted all this,
who, so they heard, knew all this.

They dug and heard nothing more;
they did not grow wise, invented no song,
thought up for themselves no language.
They dug.

There came a stillness, and there came a storm,
and all the oceans came.
I dig, you dig, and the worm digs too,
and that singing out there says: They dig.

O one, o none, o no one, o you:
Where did the way lead then it led nowhere?
O you dig and I dig , and I dig towards you,
and on our finger the ring awakes.

by Paul Celan, from the 1963 collection, "Die Niemandsrose"
Translated by Martin Hamburger.

What's the point of making stuff?

To clarify my mind- some questions I have been asking myself abut my work (not listed in any order).

1. Who is it for?

- Anyone who likes them. There's no target public, but it's usually people who have a taste for the macabre.

2. What will you do with them after you have photographed them?

- I'll put somewhere or chuck them out them, depending on space. The latter is more likely, though. I'm going to extend this disposablility to ther stuff I make, including paintings- so I'll re-use canvases once I've photographed them.

3. Are they for sale?

- Yes, the price is low. Write me, (Tadeusz598@yahoo.co.uk)and I’ll get back to you.

4. What do they mean?

- Meaning is hard to define in visual art. It isn’t proscriptive. These pieces have a function which is to make life more amusing. I guess I’m trying to draw attention to the strangeness and ambiguity that is everywhere, and to add to it.

5. Why do you like making things?

- I like being surprised by what happens when you play with materials. I think the essence of creativity is play. It's an instinctive delight in materials and their communicative possibiliies.
The technique here is very clean- scissors and card. It's not too difficult and because there is only a limited art tradition connected with paper cutouts, they feel fresh and fun to make. I don't know where they will lead to, which I quite like too.

6. What is the point of making things when there are already so many?

- To satisfy your own creative desires, and entertain others.

I say entertain, because before an artwork is anything else it has to entertain, or the public won't be drawn in. It's not a fashionable world, because it suggest you aren't "deep", but then perhaps being "deep" isn't all its cracked out to be.

Sometimes the things I make are unique, or at least, in conception relatively rare, so having them around is offers anther take on things. If I were just reproducing wholesale from a pattern, though, I still think it would be worth doing, just because it's a satisfying exercise.

I think the "what is the point?" question is very important, because if you can't think of a good answer and if you aren't enjoying making art then you should just give up. There are enough reasons to me miserable without adding to them un-necessarily.

7. Do you think any one gives a hoot about what you make?

- Judging by the number of regular visitors to my sites, and adding to that other people I have on mailing lists and who come to exhibitions I would say between 30 and 150 people give a hoot. Sometimes they leave nice comments, which help me believe that my work matters.

I like being part of a creative network- many artists are very isolated, and very frustrated by what they perceive is the indifference of the general public. The internet is helping enormously to break down this isolation.

8. If you work in one style, then another, aren't you contradicting yourself?

- Probably. But it's only art, you're allowed to be inconsistent.

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If readers have any additional questions please submit them, and I will attempt to answer them.