Should I call myself an artist?

Ireland is known for its rain. But last week felt like Poseidon sneezed, and we all just had to deal with it. My retail shift got cancelled, but I was already on my way into the city centre. I had been meaning to pick up some paints and a canvas, so I headed into a couple of bookstores and art shops and collected a set of acrylic paints, a canvas, and a bundle of paintbrushes. That evening, once dried with a towel and warmed up with some tea, I started a ‘painting’ that I worked on over the following few evenings. I put the word painting in inverted commas because I feel uncomfortable claiming that what I was doing was, in fact, painting, or indeed art.

About a year and a half ago, I asked a peer I’d met once or twice at university, who I knew was into art, to be editor-in-chief with me for a magazine. My reason for this is that I did not consider myself creative whatsoever, and needed an artsy eye to balance out my strengths of planning and organising. Now six months since graduating, I’m pitching articles to publications, have directed and co-produced my own documentary, and even had a piece of art in an exhibition as of yesterday! I’m currently designing a website, and the ‘About Me’ section reads that I am a, and I quote, multimedia journalist and artist from Dublin, Ireland. It makes me cringe that I call myself an artist, but am I not?

My cReAtIvE jOuRnEy is happening in tandem with my journey to get to know and accept myself. Last year, I got diagnosed with autism, and let me tell you, that shit checks out. Growing up, I felt so out of control with pretty much everything happening around me. Weren’t my classmates also unable to concentrate because the lights were too bright? How do I flirt with people? How do I hang out with a group of people without saying something completely whack? Because I was feeling so confused, and also overwhelmingly ashamed by this confusion, I controlled whatever I could. I became very strict with my routine. Food and academics were something I got obsessed over. Not only did they give me a sense of authority over my own life, but I also got praised for being slimmer and smarter. One thing in particular that I reigned over was my room. I cleaned every Sunday morning and was a devout minimalist. I had blank, white walls. I definitely, definitely did not put on art, pictures, or postcards on my humble four walls.

This strictness continued in university. I moved from Ireland to the UK and found it difficult to navigate British social dynamics. I leaned further into my obsessive routines, culminating in a month at the end of first year where I didn’t leave my room or talk to anyone because everything was just too difficult. In my second year, I tried to get into the artsy scene but soon realised that the artsy people were pretty much the exact same as the people I had met the previous year, just wearing cool outfits (or doing some working-class cosplay - beauty is in the eye of the beholder). By this point, I had realised I was probably autistic and was taking steps to get a diagnosis (all power to the self-diagnosis, but I knew I would probably need accommodations once I entered the working world, so medical validation unfortunately felt necessary). And as soon as I started learning about this part of me, I met my people. I ran the aforementioned magazine with one of my now besties. I met incredible creatives and started accepting my neurodiversity and queerness because of the beautiful souls I met.

I found this affirmation on Pinterest, and it has been resonating with me. Reconnecting with art has become such an important part of my healing journey.

My therapist recently asked me what shame (which we’ve figured out is the emotion that I feel about pretty much everything at all times, yay!) feels like in my body. I answered that it feels like I’m collapsing in on myself. All my scaffolding and foundations are falling on top of each other, and I just want to curl up in a ball for the rest of eternity! Then she asked me what that feeling needs. I didn’t have to think about it too long because somewhere deep in me, I already knew. I want expansion.

I want to take up space.

I want to believe that what I have to say matters.

I want to trust in my ability to create, collaborate, and change.

I’ve been creating some equations for myself that I repeat until they are part of my artistic process. Art is for me a space I can expand, and push against the feeling I have that I should be small and voiceless. For most of my life I’ve been a consumer of art, which, while inspiring, felt very constricting. Now I have a space where I can channel my frustration about my own personal life and the anger I feel about the way the world is in a constructive way.

And so I picked up the paint and the brushes and the canvas, and I allowed myself to explore. I have no technique or skill, but my aim is not to make commodifiable art. I just want to spend a few times a week alone and see where the brush takes me. I am trying to get rid of the voice that says doing something without the goal of profit is a waste of time. Having this time is, of course, a privilege. I find myself splitting work that we humans can do to build towards a better world into two categories. One level is the front-line workers. I’m talking about the youth workers, the mental health nurses, the teachers, the addiction counsellors, the carers and so on. Thank you to them ALL - they make the world go round! The other level is hard to fully describe. I guess maybe it’s where I thought art resided. The work that changes how we see the world. It is incredible to have a youth worker who steps in when something unfortunate happens, but we should also be preventing these things from happening in the first place. Changing what we think is possible is the first step. (Note politicians ain’t part of my equation - I’ve lost all hope in most formal institutions. Maybe one day yous can come back, but for now, stay over there, thank you)! And I guess I feel guilty that I’m not working at the first level, as it feels more important. But recently, the barrier between these two things is falling, and I’m realising they’ve been one and the same all along.

1. Firstly, care is an art. Community-building is an art. Coalition-building is an art.
2. Secondly, I’ve been repeating Ismatu Gwendolyn’s formula that art-making = truth-making = world-building. Making art is important work. Of course, it can’t be at the expense of inaction, but it is important.
3. I can do both! I’ve always wanted to become qualified in youth work, so it’s likely an area I return to at some point in my life. I recently started facilitating art get-togethers at a co-op space. It has been a very wholesome experience. People just bring their art and chat, or don’t chat. I was telling my mum how the first session went the other day, and she said something truly beautiful - ‘Anna you made 20 people happy this evening’. Mic drop! I’ve always loved bringing people together, but I never really believed I would have that kind of impact on them. So hopefully, more facilitation work to come that marries my creativity and love for community!

True art is the exploration of yourself and the world around you in whatEVER medium makes you and others feel

feel

feel.

This was the first painting I worked on. It truly is rubbish, and I love it! I think everyone should create shitty art.

I don’t remember a lot of my childhood, but since starting to paint, I have had flashbacks to times when I drew, painted, and wrote. I’m coming to learn that I wasn’t always this tightly-wound individual who can’t get anything right and is ruled by shame. I used to feel comfortable in myself and create for joy! I am not in the pursuit of perfection. I am, instead, rediscovering myself, and oh, what a delight it has been!

Here is a collage of some of my favourite artists and art! If you are trying to rediscover your voice and value what you have to say, making something like this can keep your fire alive. I look at this collage, and all I want to do is CREATE. Starting at the top left corner and going clockwise. Nehmahsis in her Can I Come In? episode (available on YouTube - I’ve watched this so many times it’s so beautiful and I personally learned a lot about the Muslim woman experience which was awesome!); Ismatu Gwendolyn; Joan Didion; Move Ya Body documentary (I’ve been waitingggggg for this oneeeee); Akinola Davies Jr.; Alice Aedy (genie in a bottle please let me be a documentarian); Tori West; JADE (obvs); Emma Dabiri; Jeanette Winterson; Mindy Seu’s Cyberfeminism Index (the debate around cyberfeminism is of course nuanced - check out my first ever Substack lol - but I do love the aesthetic hehehe); 13th (the documentary that changed my politicis forever when I was like 14…); The Purple Palace’s workbook (I’m hoping to complete it in Spain soon yayyyy); Princess Mononoke; adrienne maree brown; poem by John O’Donohue (legend).