Embracing the slowdown

Hello friends,

I hope this message finds you well and that you found some warmth and comfort throughout the past month. As the weather has gotten colder and my workload has lessened, for the moment, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to embrace a slowdown and wanted to share with you a few of my thoughts.

As a self-employed artist, I have periods where I am extremely busy and other periods where things are fairly quiet. I regularly work with universities, traveling for visiting artist engagements and exhibiting my work at academic museums. Even though I’m not officially in academia, my life follows the academic calendar, and I have crunch periods within each semester. I’ve learned to ride these waves and to maximize my studio time in the quieter months.

This past year was especially busy for me. I had four solo exhibitions, and my work was included in thirty-one group shows. I lectured at universities around the country and taught weeklong portraiture workshops at the Anderson Ranch Arts Center in Colorado and the Fine Arts Work Center in Massachusetts. On a personal note, my daughter, Elinor, started kindergarten, and I bought and renovated a new home.

My last big engagement of the year was opening my exhibition “Jess T. Dugan: I want you to know my story” at CONTAINER Turner Carroll in Santa Fe, NM, in early November (pictured above and below). This exhibition allowed me to try several new things—an audio soundtrack, a non-linear hang of my photographs on a 20’ x 40’ wall, and the inclusion of both of my videos, all adding up to an immersive installation—and was a significant undertaking in the months leading up to its opening. After this, my professional life started slowing down, and I have been embracing this period of quiet and rest before things pick up again next year.

Until recently, I had a bad habit of spending too much time on social media and e-mail, often reading messages on my phone when I wasn’t able to fully respond. I began each morning by opening Instagram before I had even had my coffee, starting the day with work and anxiety. Instagram is very useful for me, professionally, but I knew I needed to cut down the amount of time I spent absent-mindedly scrolling.

In early December, a good friend of mine, Shellburne Thurber, visited me in St. Louis to launch her new book, Analysis. We spent several days talking about art and visiting the local museums, and during this time, I returned to an idea I had had for quite a while: I wanted to make drawings. I drew extensively in high school and college, but until recently, I hadn’t made a drawing in close to twenty years. Although I’ve been thinking about drawing for a while, I was never quite sure what to draw. I thought about drawing portraits, possibly working from my own photographs. I kept trying to apply a conceptual overlay and to connect the drawings with my other work, but this kept me from simply beginning.

While Shellburne was here, a path forward came to my mind: I would draw flowers. Before I took her to the airport, we went to the art store and bought some materials. I settled on watercolor paper, in pads, and a simple mechanical pencil. I wanted materials that were inexpensive and fairly accessible; I didn’t want to make my drawing habit too precious.

I’m an early riser, often up between 4:30 and 5:00, which means I have a little time to myself before Elinor wakes up. Much of the text in Look at me like you love me was written in the 5 am hour; the quiet of the early morning is a particularly creative time for me. So, I set out to create a new habit: when I awoke, I wouldn’t open my e-mail or look at Instagram, but instead I would get my coffee and make a drawing. It felt strange at first, and I had to override my own instincts to “work,” but I quickly came to love my new ritual.

I’ve been trying for years to learn to meditate, but I have had a hard time finding my way into it. Running or walking is an effective way for me to calm my mind, but I hadn’t yet found a way to do it while I was still. I am thinking of my drawing habit as a meditation practice. I have also embraced that I never know quite how much time I will have to draw on any given morning. Sometimes I draw for 15 minutes and other times for an hour and a half. Sometimes my drawings are quick, and other times I complete them over a period of several days, working on them in small increments as I’m able. I’m an extreme planner, so embracing this kind of unpredictability is part of the presence I’m intentionally trying to cultivate. And, as an unexpected delight, I’ve started drawing with Elinor sometimes, as well, which has quicky become one of my most cherished ways to spend time with her.

I’ve only been making these drawings for a month, but I’ve already settled into a wonderful rhythm. I look forward to drawing each morning, and other times as I’m able, and I’m always looking and thinking about new arrangements to draw. I’ve started looking for new vases and clipping things from my backyard: sweet gum branches, dried grasses, crepe myrtle clippings. Recently, I made drawings while visiting my family in Boston, appreciative of the new vases and flowers that were available to me. As with all of my work, I’m interested in its relationship to both place and time.

I’ve had some larger ideas about what this work is about and what it might become, but it’s too early to say, for now. I am trusting the process and committing to giving it time. I’m interested in the accumulation of drawings over a year, or two, or three. And most of all, I’m thinking of this new habit as part of my personal and creative practice to find calm and presence.

My schedule will pick up again as we get further into the semester, but for now, I’m embracing slowness and quiet as much as possible. I’m also trying to develop habits to maintain a sense of rhythm and calm even when things are busier or challenging.

As a last thought, I’ve recently read “The Creative Act: A Way of Being” by Rick Rubin and found that his writing dovetails with a lot of the thoughts I’ve been having recently about how creativity is present in all aspects of our lives, not only in the studio, and how our lives influence our creative work. I recommend giving it a read.

Thanks so much for following along, and until next time, friends,

xo,

Jess