Artist in Residence: Pouch Cove Foundation

spending 30 days in a live-in-studio at pouch cove residency

30 days in pouch cove, newfoundland

thirty days ago, I hopped on a series of flights to land in Newfoundland, Canada. I spent several weeks in my live-in studio loft; layering the walls with quick gestural studies, stretching canvas filled with under-paintings, sipping coffee at 4am, hiking the east coast trail through the fog and rain, and spending time with strangers-turned friends from around the globe.

I went into this residency with no expectations, but a great deal of pressure. I hadn’t painted in months leading up to it, frozen by my lack of flow state and loss of touchstone within the creative realm. the place that I had returned to, countless times, to keep my head above water…was out of reach. I thought many times about cancelling my flight. I felt I was in no position to take up space as a failed artist. as someone who couldn’t stand the thought of picking up a brush.

Luckily for me, I have people In my life that give a gentle push when I need it. I ordered supplies. I packed my bag, and kissed my dog goodbye reluctantly. I was terrified to be alone with my own thoughts, in the middle of nowhere, with no creative drive or discipline to be found.

at the end of it all, there were no life-changing decisions made within these 30 days…and more significantly…no life-changing work physically produced. the best part is that i’m proud of that. i studied, i sketched, i played, i listened, I tore things up, i learned, i researched, i made bad work and generated good compositions to bring home. I asked questions, I sat with myself, and I worked through some harmful beliefs I had been holding along the way.

i’m on my way to making good work… for the first time in a long time. that is the life-changing aspect.

Journal entry day 12

“Anything can become a prison if we allow it” I write on a sticky note of the studio wall..A place, an ideology, a goal--

The mental prisons we build for ourselves can keep us hostage in a state of fear. It's day 12 of my 30 day residency, and Ive started to feel suffocated by the dense fog and cold rains. My pent up energy doesnt allow for sleep…And lack of sleep doesnt allow a clear mind for creative play. But the clouds parted, and I put on my hiking boots, Determined to face the cold wind up the coast. Two miles in, the world begins to expand: The lush forest floor comes alive with fauna, The water crashing against rock, creating a rhythm close to our heartbeat.I move, I breathe, I remember how to control my mind. Hiking is the only other place where I can touch the current, or my flow, To feel it and be lost within it, with no need to hold my place.

I get back to the studio and take a hot shower, grateful for the exhaustion in my legs. The prison of insecurity and fear is not a good place to lock yourself into. So I change the narrative and remember that my internal fog, and the fog outside, are something I have the power to walk through.

I simply have to walk out the door

Favorite moments from hiking the east coast trail, 50 miles+ down the coast

journal entry Day 17

I learn by doing and fumbling, rather than observing from the sideline perfectly. I developed a fear of failure this year. I spent the day hiking under the fog, and the sun, a 7 hour exchange of conversation and life stories…I love being the least interesting person in the room.or in this case the woods.the road to self discovery lies in listening and learning from every person we meet. they are kind enough to reassure me that this is only my first stand off with creative block….but surely not my last.

'you cant make great work without making bad work and you cant make bad work without experimentation'

Experiential learning is what has pushed my work forward, and I remember now it's the only way through. We have to dig at every crevasse and fully inspect the landscape of the mind….just as my feet do today on this hike

art is really about committing to a conscious act of exploration 

Journal entry day 24

“You need to feel at peace more than you need to feel in absolute control”

something my therapist said to me months ago, that's finally starting to stick. Im used to being out of control: When I couldnt control the things that happened to me as a kid, I subconsciously decided I might as well be drunk and spinning out, to allow my insides to match the outside world.As an adult as a freelancer who left their career, I was used to the freefall. Oddly enough, when the pandemic hit, I felt like the rest of the world was finally feeling the absolute panic that I had felt for most of my life.Finally, other people are paying attention! I was calm. I was used to it. It was about time the world had caught up.

The difficult thing about anxiety, is that it is the never ending….push pull of wanting to control the uncontrollable,wanting answers to impossible questions and But in order to create, there must be a surrender. In creation there is a total loss of control: a trust in the divine, in the flow, in what I call, the current--to take you to a place you didn't know existed. When I hit my first ever creative block six months ago, i dug and screamed and kicked and clawed….begging life to let me have the reigns just this once. 

The invisible labor of a creative is learning to sit with open palms…Let go or be dragged, as they say. Today, on day 24 of my artist residency, I don't know where I'll end up after this: where I plan to move or what the next five years of my life looks like. if I'll ever reach my dreams of a solo show in new york or writing a book.

but I do feel at peace

and that's the biggest accomplishment I could ask for