Lately, I’ve been reverting to old habits and second-guessing myself. Staring at my work after I’ve created it and wondering “Is it good enough? Does it mean enough?” There was a time when I felt really comfortable in my artistic work, but quarantine has honestly led me to lose a good deal of my self-confidence. Imagine that: sitting alone in a room for months and months on end leading to hyper-analyzing and hyper-critiquing everything I’m doing! What a shock, what a surprise!
Apparently quarantine has also led me to reach my sarcasm peak, too. Fantastic. Anyone else?
But last week, while going through my stash of random scraps of inspiration that I keep in a couple boxes in my room, I found something that reminded me of the importance of being more comfortable in my artistic presence. A simple postcard that took all of the worry about “achieving” through my art right out of me (thank goodness!).
In my freshman year of college, one of my multimedia classes had an extra credit assignment to visit the Corita Art Center. Though, calling it a “center” might be a bit of a stretch. It’s really just a collection of Sister Corita Kent’s artwork spread across a small section of offices and conference rooms at Immaculate Heart High School. But, as I was new to LA and excited to get out into the city — the school is right by Griffith Park — I decided to turn it into a date, and take my new-at-the-time musician boyfriend with me. Of course, he took about five million pictures of me because we were in our first week of dating, so our visit is well-documented below.
When we visited the center, I was struggling with feeling like my art wasn’t measuring up to those around me. But in one part of the office where there was a little store, I found this postcard, with Corita Kent’s ten rules for art.
I bought it for a dollar, and it was long forgotten until last week, when I found it again.
If you don’t know who Corita Kent is, she’s quite an interesting character. A Roman Catholic religious sister and educator, Kent was also a revolutionary artist and designer who expressed her concerns surrounding poverty, war and racism through her work. During her lifetime, she by no means fit a mold, and never did exactly what everyone wanted her to do. And I think that shines through in her rules. She’s confident in her artistic vision and her values.
Her rules helped me realize how silly I was being when judging myself so harshly, not giving myself the trust and safety that I give others in my creative classes and spaces. They reminded me that nothing has to be absolutely genius in its beginnings — it grows and evolves, it’s all an experiment. And that “There’s no win and no fail. There’s only make.”
I’ve decided to hang this little postcard up on my wall right above my desk. And as I ease into this next year of both excitement and uncertainty, I’m hoping that these rules can help me remember the ease of creating. That there are, as Kent says via a John Cage quote in Rule 10, no rules that aren’t meant to be broken in art.
Bonus: The piece in the “helpful hints” section about saving everything definitely helps me feel like less of a hoarder with my boxes full of inspirational momentos.
So next time you’re creating, try to keep some of these things in mind. Corita Kent’s little reminders have definitely helped me quiet some of the extraneous negative voices in my head, and maybe they can help you in your creative journey, too.
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