Give Yourself Permission to be an Artist-in-Residence
Claim your somewhere and make some art about it.
Looking the ‘other way’ from near my daily photo spot towards a pastel sunset. November 13, 2024, 4:41pm. University Lake Park, Anchorage, Alaska. Photo by Oona Martin.
I’m here to celebrate making art about places.
Amy Stewart, on her substack on September 6, 2024, introduced the idea of appointing yourself an artist-in-residence of something and it makes me so happy and hopeful.
The more-than-human world needs us right now.
Imagine more eyes, hearts and hands shining light on all kinds of places at all kinds of scales on our incredible planet; our home gardens, public parks, mountains, forests, trails, waters, grasslands, roadsides, edges and easements.
I can think of lot of people already doing this and how much I admire them. And…
I believe that there more of us who want to share our love for the world.
I’m one of those people. I have not shared anything for ages.
I’m easily overwhelmed by the pressures to perform on social media, to pick a niche, to market and make email lists. I’m tired of navigating the targeted ad sandstorm that gnaws away at my attention and erodes my confidence.
With this assignment, I get to give myself complete permission to attend to a place through my creative art practice; to rest with the assurance that my attention in this moment is valuable.
I am *still* just one of those people who needs permission.
Lots of artists say “I’m inspired by nature”.
I want to get specific.
I completely agree that it’s enough to make beautiful art. Much of the artwork I love to make is decorative. And yet…
I want to challenge myself to write these personal pieces about where I live, how that feels, and how I make sense of it.
I want to continue to learn more about the ecology and ethnobiology of where I live; to deepen my relationship with what this land is up against; to better understand the current threats and human pressures it has endured through time.
I feel accountable.
Like so many here in Anchorage, I am incredibly grateful for all those before me that made sure that we have accessible parkland with so many interconnected trails threading through and around the city. And sometimes I take it all for granted.
All the more reason to focus my attention, awareness and education on something that matters to me.
Sharing observations, expressions of care, curiosity and love for places matters.
I declare my artist-in-residency at University Lake Park and the woods around it. I also declare my artist-in-residency of my home gardens and the creek next to my house. And probably many more places to come.
The timing is perfect: My photo project needed a container; a reason and some motivation to share it.
November 12, 2023, 2:29pm
February 17, 2024, 5:19pm
April 17, 2024, 7:41pm
May 19, 2024, 5:56pm
June 10, 2024, 8:49pm
September 17, 2024, 5:55pm
As of today I have about 300 of un-edited pictures taken from the same spot overlooking the lake throughout the year. I’m looking forward to sharing more about this ongoing project.
I’m still learning to call myself an “artist”.
I like the assignment of artist-in-residence because for now, I’m more comfortable using the word ‘artist’ in relationship to a place; a reason to connect my creativity to something larger than myself; and a reason to show up more on the internet.
Will you appoint yourself as an artist-in-residence?
Expanding on Amy Stewarts’s guidance to get started:
Maybe you need inspiration to restart your creative practice.
Maybe you already have some art or thoughts about somewhere important to you but haven’t shared anything yet.
Maybe like me, you need a container to hold all your ideas, research and observations?
I hope you give yourself permission to love your somewhere and tell us all about it.
Explore the magic of time through whatever lens makes sense for you — taking photos, counting birds, painting flowers, people watching, dreaming poetry, empathetic design, researching history, identifying trees, studying lichen…
Let’s love the world together.
Go make something about your place.
It matters.
Love, Oona.