Connection and humility

Or, the powerful act of an open heart in creating art

There is a quote from Julia Cameron in her book Finding Water:

“…there is a humility to be found in the making of art.”

This, I find, is so very true.

That humility comes for me in the intricacies discovered in deep observation. Now that I am ensconced in the fur of this Golden Tamarin, how could I not have noticed this purple shadow before? The depth of the auburn under the bright sunshine yellow? Look at that tiny bit of deep madder in the skin on her cheek! What an act of beauty and generosity is observation and sharing.

Now, humility is not humiliation - not at all. Humility, like humbleness, is an understanding that the world does not revolve around you, that you are a part of your community, and the world at large. It is understanding you have a place, but that so does everyone and everything else, and your place is right here now with them, beside them, connected to them. It is knowing that you don’t know everything, understanding that there is so much to learn and delight in experiencing, and being open to doing so.

In the meditative practice of my art-making, I am not searching for perfection, I want my art, my life, to be beautifully imperfect just like me and you and everything we are surrounded by. I am searching for connection. I am a part of life, of the connective tissue of existence that weaves as all separately and together, and the exquisite intricacies in our make-up, in the make-up of every single thing around us is beyond beautiful. Perfection is not only unattainable, it is trite. Does it even exist? Isn’t everything, including you and me, perfectly imperfect? There is so very much more than mere perfection. Perfection is to be done with something, put it away, it is no longer interesting, I am no longer a part of it, I am apart from it.

But connection, humility, humbleness, gratitude, and wonder - that is where the magic is.

When I create a representation of the land or of non-human kin (be that animal, avian, or botanical), I look at this practise as a form of honouring my subject, making an offering to them. It is my opportunity to say, with deep heart and utmost reverence, I see you. I honour you, I make this offering as a humble act of reciprocity. I acknowledge that I may never see you and your personhood (again, if it is my own photo reference), but I see you now, and in doing so you now exist within me too, we are bound, I am part you.

I approach each of my honouring’s of my non-human kin with equal parts humility and wonder. I know as soon as I start the deep observational process that I will find intricacies, details, and unexpected delights with every new pencil stroke. A whole new world opens up - particularly when connecting to a creature via rendering their eyes. I can barely even grasp the immenseness of using a stick of colour to make marks on a surface that once was plants to render a tiny moment in time, where my subject observed something, and that reflection was captured in their eyes and now I am seeing that, I am recreating that, I am in that same moment, time stretched between these two connective points. Profound is not expressive enough to describe how this makes me feel.

My art practise fosters in me such gratitude, such purpose, and such strength. I absorb the lessons I learn from each piece and I now have a new level of care not just for that particular subject, but for the wonder of life itself. For me, there is indeed a humility to be found in the act of making art, and creating art with an open and curious heart provides a level of connection I had not realised was possible.

If you would like to create some art alongside me, visit my Learn Page for free tutorials and self paced classes.