Sex, Drugs & School Pick Up

The question I ask myself often is, when does it become inauthentic to create from a life that is no longer your current experience?  Is art only impactful if it comes from the now or can you reflect on your glory days til the ceramic cows you drunk stole from people's front gardens come home. 

Anyone that knows me can tell you I was a bit of a banger in my day. I lived a very 'colourful' life. Lived, being the operative word.  Past tense. These days I'm so achingly close to the definition of a hermit that I'm lovingly trying to give the term a more quirky, less baked beans soaked pyjama top vibe. More highly evolved white witch in the woods, less socially inept Gen Xer who's given up on life to wear slippers down to the shops. That's the kind of aesthetic I'm after.

Looking at my collections from the outside may give the impression that I'm still a good time gal. Parties, vinyl, wee indulgences of the chemical kind. Good old sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. And yes, yes. I have enjoyed a little of column A, B & C in my time.  This is the inspiration that I often create from. The soul of my work. These are the experiences that I feel made me funny and insightful, giving my world view an 'edge'.

However, the reality these days is, I quite enjoy a good Tetley and a bloody nice water of my plants, thank you very much. My tactical mission is no longer finding the dunnies at a music festival. It's now successfully navigating school stop, drop and go without embarrassing my child too badly.

A little is character building though, don't you think?

Does this mean that my Rock Goddess cred is no longer valid? How do you stay inspired when you feel like everything has already happened? I wanted to explore the relationship between identity and art a bit further.

In the article, Art, Identity and Everyday Experience, Kim Diaz explains that these aspects form an intrinsic partnership, allowing the artist to explore both their relationship with themselves as well as the community they belong to.  In my case, I continue to hold my community, the somewhat beer soaked community with which I explored the better part of my life, to my heart dearly. I walk hand in hand with the same crew for the most part.  Granted, a little older, slightly greyer, pants riding slightly higher but still mine. They know who I've been and who I am now, and it makes for the most beautiful gestalt experience as we all come out the other side of the barrel.

John Dewey's theory of aesthetics from his book Art as Experience gives us the explanation that art is a double barrelled word. It's a bit of a complicated theory but in essence it talks about art being inspired by both a thing experienced (objective) and a thought (subjective). 

In that way, creation for me is about how I interpret the world around me, from my own experiences. This includes my history. I look to issues of culture and privilege, of feminism and advocacy and create social commentary often based on my own past adventures and narrative. Those that, at the time, I may not have had the words for.

The most important thing though, from one career artist to another, is that making art is about maintaining a creative flow. You do this most efficiently when you tap into the thing that gets your energy flowing. Past, present or future.

Something that I learnt the hard way is that reflection is a privilege. One that not all people get the chance to experience. For me, I like the feel of honouring the past to inspire the present. It's a part of my story. A piece of the puzzle that is my authentic self.

After all, the past is a story completed while the present is still happening, entirely in your hands to create.

And incidentally, just because you don't hear about it, doesn't mean this old banger doesn't get up to an old party trick or two in between the shrubs and the Tetleys. Shusssh. We'll just keep that to ourselves.