In finding and accepting my “chaotically creative” style, I found myself.
I think I’ve been creative since conception–even inventing my own premature birth date by scoffing at the doctor’s predicted date. I was born and raised in a small Alabama town, and my first acts as a maker would have to be as a small child, gathered around a quilting frame with my Nanny and her aunts. I was barely tall enough to reach the materials…but still had a needle and thread in hand. I crafted clothes and accessories for my dolls and loved to make big messes in the kitchen. After high school graduation, I ventured out and traveled a little, mostly to other states around the South, then returned home to start my own family.
My first “real” art supplies were a gift from my husband while we were dating. He gave me a Bob Ross paint set in 1995. I still have that first oil canvas in my studio–it reminds me of where I’ve been and to be grateful to have a family that embraces my creative side.
Over the next decade, I dabbled in art a little. I mostly focused on our growing family and enjoying the gifts of motherhood. My creative needs were met through preparing family meals and photographing our children. After our second child was a toddler, I began to focus again on art. In 2008, I opened an Etsy shop called Dalaimomma. I thought it was a clever name to show both my eclectic style and my love of family. I listed a few items. And I waited. I had NO CLUE how to even begin marketing myself. And to be totally honest, I was embarrassed and uncomfortable at the thought of doing so.
It can be a very vulnerable experience to put yourself out there creatively. It was over a year later before I had my first sale. In the meantime, my grandparents began their journey through Alzheimer’s and cancer, so I added the role of full-time caregiver to my résumé. Although my free time to create was diminished somewhat, my need to create was tripled. Art, at that point, was more than a hobby. It was necessity. It was therapy. Art was now a way of life.
I never learned “the rules,” so I don’t feel restricted by them.
Experimenting with different methods and supplies, I found the freedom of mixed media. I had an “anything goes” approach to art. For some reason, I’d had the misconception that I needed to pick one genre to focus on, to stick with one style and be identified by that style. I thought that was the only way to ever be taken seriously as an artist.
Being self-taught, I’ve surely missed out on some very valuable benefits of a formal art education…but conversely, I would’ve lost out on the knowledge and self-reliance that I gained through tons of trial and error. I am never afraid to make a mess or a mistake. I see those times as opportunities to learn and experiment further.
Call me a late bloomer, but I was 30 years old before I ever visited an art museum. I take pride in saying that my children have both been exposed to the arts since birth. While there are advantages to being raised in a small town, it can be limiting to an artist. I wanted to make sure my son and daughter were aware of what was beyond our small town. Seeing and learning through their eyes has inspired me more than I could ever express.
I’ve found, through the years, that the more creative I am, the more creative I become. At times, my mind is working way faster than my hands. In those instances, it’s helpful to keep what I call Inspiration Notebooks. Mine are full of jotted-down ideas and quick sketches; blueprints, if you will, for future pieces. When I find myself temporarily blocked, I refer to those notebooks to get me going. I light a candle (orange for the sacral chakra), put on some music or a favorite movie, take off my shoes (I always create barefoot), and get right to work.
My studio has evolved into almost a family room. We moved in a comfy couch, making it warm and inviting. You’ll often find me creating on one end of the sofa with family and fur babies nestled in with me. That’s where I do my best work. The “family couch” just might be my favorite studio piece.
I think social media has had a huge influence on me, artistically. I have “met” and formed bonds with so many other artists. My art sisters have become a cherished part of my creative world and invaluable to me personally. The artist’s job is to connect. We link non-creatives to concepts they may have never grasped. We help others see the world in new and thoughtful ways. We give voice to the unspoken and introduce the unknown.
There is no bigger compliment than when someone says they feel connected to my work; drawn to a piece, comforted by it. I put a small bit of myself into every piece I create, and if in turn, that gives someone a small piece of themselves, then I know I am doing exactly what I am meant to do.
My process is really pretty simple, I create a mini skull out of polymer clay and insert a piece of 20 gauge wire into the base of the skull. Bake it and let it cool. I make extra skulls and have them on hand for future projects. Next, I sculpt the body for the piece, place a wire through the shoulder area for “arms” and insert the skull into the neck, then bake again. Wire arms are gently bent into place, adding any finishing clay details before the final bake. I apply an antiquing glaze and finally paint my new figure with craft acrylics. I choose to leave fingermarks in my sculpted pieces. I’m drawn to texture in my work–a crackle finish, antiquing glaze, layers of thin paint versus one thick coat. That helps to mimic the look of pottery and lends a time-worn charm. Almost all of my clay pieces are created in this manner; for example my trinket dishes, which are simple stamped pieces of Apoxie Sculpt. But the washes of acrylic paint make them appear kiln fired and more substantial.
I personally feel that the best attributes to anything artisan-crafted are the slight imperfections…when you can see the “hand” in hand made.
I have learned that “if the thought counts, then actions multiply.” That simple concept can take you far. If I hope to succeed in supporting my family through my art, then I need to take steps daily to ensure that can happen. I need to get out of my comfort zone and push my own creative boundaries. I hope to always learn, to always be inspired, to be a source of inspiration to others and to be that change that I hope to see in the world.
In finding and accepting my “chaotically creative” style, I found myself.
I think I’ve been creative since conception–even inventing my own premature birth date by scoffing at the doctor’s predicted date. I was born and raised in a small Alabama town, and my first acts as a maker would have to be as a small child, gathered around a quilting frame with my Nanny and her aunts. I was barely tall enough to reach the materials…but still had a needle and thread in hand. I crafted clothes and accessories for my dolls and loved to make big messes in the kitchen. After high school graduation, I ventured out and traveled a little, mostly to other states around the South, then returned home to start my own family.
My first “real” art supplies were a gift from my husband while we were dating. He gave me a Bob Ross paint set in 1995. I still have that first oil canvas in my studio–it reminds me of where I’ve been and to be grateful to have a family that embraces my creative side.
Over the next decade, I dabbled in art a little. I mostly focused on our growing family and enjoying the gifts of motherhood. My creative needs were met through preparing family meals and photographing our children. After our second child was a toddler, I began to focus again on art. In 2008, I opened an Etsy shop called Dalaimomma. I thought it was a clever name to show both my eclectic style and my love of family. I listed a few items. And I waited. I had NO CLUE how to even begin marketing myself. And to be totally honest, I was embarrassed and uncomfortable at the thought of doing so.
It can be a very vulnerable experience to put yourself out there creatively. It was over a year later before I had my first sale. In the meantime, my grandparents began their journey through Alzheimer’s and cancer, so I added the role of full-time caregiver to my résumé. Although my free time to create was diminished somewhat, my need to create was tripled. Art, at that point, was more than a hobby. It was necessity. It was therapy. Art was now a way of life.
I never learned “the rules,” so I don’t feel restricted by them.
Experimenting with different methods and supplies, I found the freedom of mixed media. I had an “anything goes” approach to art. For some reason, I’d had the misconception that I needed to pick one genre to focus on, to stick with one style and be identified by that style. I thought that was the only way to ever be taken seriously as an artist.
Being self-taught, I’ve surely missed out on some very valuable benefits of a formal art education…but conversely, I would’ve lost out on the knowledge and self-reliance that I gained through tons of trial and error. I am never afraid to make a mess or a mistake. I see those times as opportunities to learn and experiment further.
Call me a late bloomer, but I was 30 years old before I ever visited an art museum. I take pride in saying that my children have both been exposed to the arts since birth. While there are advantages to being raised in a small town, it can be limiting to an artist. I wanted to make sure my son and daughter were aware of what was beyond our small town. Seeing and learning through their eyes has inspired me more than I could ever express.
I’ve found, through the years, that the more creative I am, the more creative I become. At times, my mind is working way faster than my hands. In those instances, it’s helpful to keep what I call Inspiration Notebooks. Mine are full of jotted-down ideas and quick sketches; blueprints, if you will, for future pieces. When I find myself temporarily blocked, I refer to those notebooks to get me going. I light a candle (orange for the sacral chakra), put on some music or a favorite movie, take off my shoes (I always create barefoot), and get right to work.
My studio has evolved into almost a family room. We moved in a comfy couch, making it warm and inviting. You’ll often find me creating on one end of the sofa with family and fur babies nestled in with me. That’s where I do my best work. The “family couch” just might be my favorite studio piece.
I think social media has had a huge influence on me, artistically. I have “met” and formed bonds with so many other artists. My art sisters have become a cherished part of my creative world and invaluable to me personally. The artist’s job is to connect. We link non-creatives to concepts they may have never grasped. We help others see the world in new and thoughtful ways. We give voice to the unspoken and introduce the unknown.
There is no bigger compliment than when someone says they feel connected to my work; drawn to a piece, comforted by it. I put a small bit of myself into every piece I create, and if in turn, that gives someone a small piece of themselves, then I know I am doing exactly what I am meant to do.
My process is really pretty simple, I create a mini skull out of polymer clay and insert a piece of 20 gauge wire into the base of the skull. Bake it and let it cool. I make extra skulls and have them on hand for future projects. Next, I sculpt the body for the piece, place a wire through the shoulder area for “arms” and insert the skull into the neck, then bake again. Wire arms are gently bent into place, adding any finishing clay details before the final bake. I apply an antiquing glaze and finally paint my new figure with craft acrylics. I choose to leave fingermarks in my sculpted pieces. I’m drawn to texture in my work–a crackle finish, antiquing glaze, layers of thin paint versus one thick coat. That helps to mimic the look of pottery and lends a time-worn charm. Almost all of my clay pieces are created in this manner; for example my trinket dishes, which are simple stamped pieces of Apoxie Sculpt. But the washes of acrylic paint make them appear kiln fired and more substantial.
I personally feel that the best attributes to anything artisan-crafted are the slight imperfections…when you can see the “hand” in hand made.
I have learned that “if the thought counts, then actions multiply.” That simple concept can take you far. If I hope to succeed in supporting my family through my art, then I need to take steps daily to ensure that can happen. I need to get out of my comfort zone and push my own creative boundaries. I hope to always learn, to always be inspired, to be a source of inspiration to others and to be that change that I hope to see in the world.
