I don’t have writers block. In fact, in the last three weeks I’ve been more writerly-productive than in the previous 6 months combined. What I’m finding, though, is I’ve got a major distaste for photography right now. I’m not even finding photos by my favourite artists interesting or worthy of much more than just a glance.
So I’m on a journey to refund my joy of the visual arts.
I’ve forced myself to start using my 2 year old empty Instagram account, so I can begin seeing what others find beautiful and noteworthy in their daily lives – as to force me to do the same.
I’ve also pulled out my college acrylics, which have now gone so thick and lumpy, they are behaving more like bad oils. I had one spare canvas in the house, just a small 6×6 and found an old tutorial I had pinned ages ago.
This week I am also going to finally download all my vacation pictures from my camera and actually look at them. I’m going to find three, edit and then print them off. Maybe I need physical instances of art to really start appreciating it again.
I am also going to go to an art gallery opening this month, get up so close to some pieces that I can smell them and see the brushstrokes. I need to take someone with me who will force me to stop and look, who reads art differently than I do.
If at the end of this month long art journey I still want to throw out my camera, then maybe it’s time just to tuck it into the very back of the closet.
Ironic that last week I wrote a story with very little visual description – my writers group even called me out on it.