Where Do Creative Ideas Come From?

In the film, "With My Back to the World", the artist Agnes Martin talks about how the ideas for her paintings come to her in a flash of inspiration. In fact, she painted directly from those visions, carefully working out the mathematical division of space. When she finished a painting, she would simply wait until the next 'inspiration' came to her and didn't paint until it did. Once she had to wait 7 months, she said. My own ideas seem to come to me in various ways. Sometimes, like Agnes, I get a picture in my head of a painting. I never can paint the exact image because I see it only vaguely. It's rather like an idea for a painting or an idea for a series of paintings.

I find that ideas keep coming the more I work. So many artists and musicians have said that. Twyla Tharp said that in her book, "The Creative Habit", as did the composer, John Adams in "Hallelujah Junction". Just begin. Just get into the studio and begin. Start dancing. Start playing the piano. If I haven't been painting for more than a couple of weeks, I sometimes lose confidence and don't know where to begin. When that happens, I might work on small paper pieces, knowing that they are completely disposable and unimportant. Sometimes this playful work will lead into a body of work and reveal it's meaning only after I have completed a number of paintings.

I'm also influenced by place. I love to travel and am always excited to sort of devour the places I visit. When I am on an artist residency, I find I can't just jump into work, but have to walk, look and feel the place and incorporate it into my body. I travelled a couple of times with the famous Canadian landscape artist, Doris McCarthy, who painted and exhibited her work until she was in her mid-90's. Once we went on an expedition to the Queen Charlotte Islands off the west coast of Canada. She was in her 80's at the time. We were on a sailboat that went from one island and Haida village to another. Doris would jump off the dingy that took us to shore, set up her gear and immediately begin painting. That was her routine. Her ideas came directly from the landscape and she painted what she saw. I had to learn that my ideas didn't come that way. They came more indirectly, through the body, from walking, looking and sensing. And sometimes they don't come right away, on demand. They have their own timing. I think that Twyla Tharp and John Adams are right in saying to just begin. But I think they are also saying that their ideas come through the body.

Robert MacFarlane in his book The Old Ways, a Journey on Foot, quotes Rousseau as saying, "I can only meditate when I am walking, when I stop I cease to think; my mind works only with my legs." Kierkegaard speculated that the mind might function optimally at the pedestrian pace of three miles per hour and in a journal entry describes going out for a wander and finding himself 'so overwhelmed with ideas' that he 'could scarcely walk'.

"Nothing like a nighttime stroll to give you ideas."-Mad-eye Moody

Meet the Owners of a Scottish Castle

Anne Tristine Nguyen, Ali Orr Ewing, their children, Ava, Atticus and their dog, Harriet Beecher Stowe. Dunskey Estate, Portpatrick, Scotland Anne Tristine Nguyen and her husband, Alistair Orr Ewing are the owners of Dunskey Estate near Portpatrick, Scotland where I will teach a painting workshop in September. Dunskey is a splendid Edwardian castle on 2000 acres of ocean-front land with miles of walking trails. As well as daily workshop sessions in the studio on the top floor of the castle, our small group of artists will enjoy breathtaking hikes, superb accommodation and fabulous meals. Not having met owners of a castle before, I asked Anne if I could interview her to hear a little of their background story and that of the castle. Can you tell me a little of your personal story and that of your husband, Alistair Orr Ewing? Anne emigrated to America when she was ten years old, but it was at an art gallery in Saigon, her birthplace, where she met Al

The Importance of Silence in Art

Gathering Light 60x60" Oil on canvas © 2014 Janice Mason Steeves Michael David Rosenberg, the musician known as Passenger, sings, "See all I need is a whisper in a world that only shouts." In the workshops I teach, I find that one of the most common problems with paintings is that they shout. Most have too much going on: too many small shapes, too much texture, extremes of colour, too many lines, too much, too much. One thing I say most often as I walk around the classroom working with students individually, is 'make bigger shapes'. But not only bigger shapes. Quiet shapes. Where can your eye go and rest in the painting? That isn't a consideration in much of contemporary painting or much of contemporary life. Ours is a noisy world both visually and auditorily. Ours is a world that shouts. People are afraid of silence. I wrote a blog post 3 years ago about planning a retreat in my own home, where I shut off the computer and the phon

Liminal Time

The word liminal comes from the Latin, limen meaning threshold. an in-between place, a place of transition, a time of waiting and not knowing. Dawn and dusk are considered liminal places. Crepuscular animals, like foxes and coyotes are most active at this time of day, a time that is considered a magical time in Celtic spirituality and to Indigenous people which is perhaps the origin of their designation as tricksters. As I write this, the northern hemisphere has just passed the vernal equinox, where day and night are of equal length.We are in a liminal space between winter and spring right now, unsure if we will have one more storm or snowfall before spring finally settles in. We're also in a liminal place as we live through this pandemic with the anxiety and discomfort of not knowing. A time of great transition for the entire world, wondering what we've learned from this and what lessons we'll carry forward. Author and Franciscan friar Richard Rohr describes limi

Janice Mason Steeves

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