I do not have ADD. I am generally a pretty focused person, but when it comes to my artwork, my train of thought is about as steady as a hamster's. For as measured as my day-to-day personality is, my creative mind is like a two-year-old tugging my hand through life, saying "What's that?!? Oooooh what's that?!?" before I have a chance to even answer. I will begin what seems like a promising series of paintings or a certain process or a particular ceramics aesthetic, and just when I think I've finally found "my thing," I lose steam or find myself diverted on to working with oil pastels or cutting and assembling snips of paper.
Overall, I try to see this as a strength. I am curious about many things. I am multi-faceted. This works for me as a teacher, since teachers have to be able to show drawing, painting, collaging, printmaking, sculpture, and ceramics techniques. For that, I am glad. However in the fine arts world, this kind of hopscotching around is frowned upon. You need to be able to develop a series, a style, and something that makes collectors recognize you. You need to be able to delve deeply into your art of choice and make some real discoveries digging around down there. So what's someone with AADD (Artistic Attention Deficit Disorder) to do? Well, I've gone through many stages of excitement, disappointment, hope, and creative blockages that I'm going to share with you my coping strategies. Some of them are old hat, some of them may make something click for you. If I can help a fellow kindred spirit out there, I'm happy to have been of service.
If you feel excited about your newest venture...
That's awesome! Go with it. Give it a try. If you don't have time, write down your idea somewhere or bookmark or pin some images. Keeping these for a while (even after you may lose interest in the idea) is handy for when you may cycle back to this in the future. Don't buy too many supplies at first. Do small works and test things out quickly and cheaply. As you find your way and an idea that you can latch onto, make your works a little bigger and more involved. Post them to public forums and see what kind of response you get, but don't do this until you feel kind of comfortable with your work. If you
are still early on in the process of discovery, even the smallest
criticisms or questions will sting like Listerine in your eye. Keep it as loose and flowing as you can. Don't try to figure it all out too early. Avoid the impulse to overreach with connections that will hem your next work in. Let it happen naturally and once you have some pieces under your belt, spread them all out and see what seems to be occurring. Then you can start putting together/reworking an artist statement, thinking about the next step or where to show and the questions below.
Questions to ask yourself:
Does this feel like a series that could continue to grow in a related direction? What else can I do with this?
Do I like the work? Does it excite me? Is the process enjoyable or at least tolerable and worth the final outcome?
Where does this work belong (gallery, home, street)? Would someone pay me to do this? Does this have commercial implications?
How is this work unique to me? Am I just putting a bird on it?
How did this work surprise me?
Would I want to live with this work myself, or is it that I just have the impulse to make it and then never see it again?
This last question is tricky. I once asked a college art instructor if it mattered whether or not the artist wanted to live with his/her own pieces. He couldn't come up with an answer at the time. I've thought about it over the years, and while I won't give a definitive yes or no, what I have found is that one way or another, you as an artist will be living with your pieces. The ones that don't sell. They will hang on your walls or be stuck behind furniture or be stacked in your attic. The ones that do sell and reside in your computer image files, your website, and gallery programs next to your name. So at least for me, the newest and one of the most pressing questions I ask myself as I am mixing colors, picking sizes, and deciding on subject is, "Do I want to live with this?" Of course, this avenue of working would eliminate a lot of wonderful pieces that are out there and very happily residing in gallery spaces and museums. But I still say until you are sure of where your art is going, make it so that you don't mind having it around.
And please, for the love of all that is holy, do not ask yourself these questions when you are still in the idea stage. Please please MAKE something first. I have spent too many hours pondering possible projects in my head, getting very excited about them, thinking about all of these questions right away, and then nixing the whole thing before I did a stitch of art. I would end up soothing my depressed self with hot tea, scrap paper with tiny plans and sketches scattered and crumpled on my desk. You'll drive yourself crazy this way.
What to do if you have lost steam...
This depends. If you have lost steam for a project because you are on to the next exciting thing, don't beat yourself up. Carefully put away the materials of the last venture (don't get rid of them yet!) and give yourself permission to come back to it if you feel the urge. It's not a closed door, a burnt bridge, or a failure. It is one more step closer to you figuring out what it is you enjoy doing. Unlike your college years, an ex, or that great little Mom and Pop joint, it's always still there if you want to return.
If you are simply feeling adrift, unable or unwilling to make anything, that's ok, too. Getting down on yourself for feeling uncreative doesn't get anyone's creative juices flowing. Scale back and don't demand too much of yourself. Keep a sketchbook. No, really. I know everyone says/demands it. But a sketchbook doesn't have to be filled with da Vinciesque anatomical sketches and inventions. Allow yourself to doodle. Try a mandala. smear some paint in there and chop it up later. Pull out the pages you hate or work over them. Make something ugly and move on with your life. Also, read something just because you want to. Get outside. Take a picture. Take a shower. Look at art you like and ask yourself why you like it. Look back at past ideas you had. Talk to artistic friends about their art. Or stop thinking about art all together for a spell. Go do something with easy answers and predictability. It will all come back around. Open your little hamster mind to it when the time is right. Just remember to make time for it when the floodgates open again.
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