I find it hard to talk about my art practice. It feels as if I’ve forgotten all the words and I suddenly need to hide. And stay hidden. Forever. It’s the thing that makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. Not the doing of the art but the talking about the art.
For me, art is an exploration of things I cannot yet explain. It’s a way for me to make sense of things, a way to organize my thoughts, it’s a process of piecing things together without knowing what the end result will be. It makes me feel more exposed than anything else in the world.
At the moment I’m in this weird liminal space where I find myself to be terrified of the idea of sharing anything with anyone. But at the same time I’m more or less consistently putting stuff online. I’m just not telling anyone about it as if it’s like I’m doing something that I’m not supposed to. I have not yet identified why I feel the way I do. I suppose in a way this is a sort of a time capsule that I can come back to and reflect on the past.
We shall see…
Something to note too: this draft stayed as a draft for quite some time, didn’t think I’d put it out there, did think about deleting the whole thing.
What is all this?
Love,
Tiina
