Learning that you have a creative spark—and choosing to foster it—is an eye-opening, exhilarating, and frustrating experience all in one. I’ve written about the journey of learning how to draw and how it can be an emotionally wild ride (RE: The Truth About Learning How to Draw); but I’ve yet to write about coming to terms with your growth. Or, “finding yourself” as an artist.
Depending on how often you practice your craft—whether it be drawing, painting, photography, dance, or anything in between—when you first start out, the learning curve is of course steep. Not many people pick up on an art form while knowing exactly what kind of style or medium they’d like to pursue. So, the majority of us dive in with the lowest barrier to entry. For illustrators, it’s pencil and paper. For dancers, it’s. . . zumba?
The point is, you start off small in the amateur stage.
And once you slowly begin to find our footing, you explore. Your creative scope begins to expand, ever so slowly—as does your sense of exploration. Different styles and mediums begin to influence your work. And then one day, when you least expect it, your creative medium slaps you across the face.
It could be a love-at-first-sight type of slap. Your first time using soft-core colored pencils for instance and then, boom, instant adoration for the medium.
Or it could be a relationship full of exasperation to start. Writing off, say, acrylics out of frustration, only to be drawn back to them later down the line.
Whichever way you stumble across your medium of choice, it all begins with exploring what’s out there.
Testing out various materials; figuring out how to use them in ways that play to their advantages; and, typically, fighting with them when you simply can’t figure them out due to a lack of experience. But, no matter how big the fight, you’re pulled back in.
Something about a specific medium is just irresistible. Maybe you realize that, despite the battle, you had fun using it.
Since the beginning of my art journey in 2016 to this point, I’ve considered myself to still be in the exploration stage. Dancing between mediums, and settling on none. I realized a couple of days ago that I’m passed this stage—in fact, I’ve been passed this stage for a while.
Don’t get wrong, while shedding my identity as a “beginner” artist, I still place myself in the “amateur” category.
There’s just so much fundamental knowledge and skill that I have yet to grasp. But in entering this new level of artistry, I’ve come to the realization that I have found my creative medium for a while now.
Literally 2 days ago, I recognized that for the passed year and a half, 80% of my art has come in the form of watercolors. It was a major facepalm moment—but also incredibly exciting to finally be aware of what “my” medium is.
About 2 years into my art journey, I went through an alcohol marker phase—courtesy of my Master Marker set. And while I struggled with the notorious cap-vs-ink color inaccuracy (this is why taking swatches is important folks), I loved how flat the ink appeared.
Thanks to Danica Sills via the Tube, I soon found out that the same effect could be created via watercolors. I was mesmerized at the idea of a “flat wash”—and of course, failed to replicate what I saw on video. Watercolor has been the source of a love-hate relationship early on. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I’ve stepped away from it, then circled back. It was a dizzying cycle.
And one day, while visiting Brasil for 2 months, with just a cabin bag and school-sized backpack, I had no choice but to pack light. So I put my markers and colored pencils away, and set up a mini palette full of Arteza watercolors. No longer was I able to fight with the medium, because at the time, that palette was my only art companion. So I figured out how to use it via good-old trial and error.
I played—explored the medium until I slowly figured out its quirks.
And when I returned to Vancouver, back to my fully-stocked arsenal of (beginner) art supplies, it was too late. I was hooked. The versatility in styles. The therapeutic nature of layering colors. Watching the colors bloom into one another—whether intentional or not. The unpredictability, yet control that the medium offers. I fell in love with watercolors. And this unrealized fondness that I gained for the medium has lasted to this day.
So to those of you who are struggling to find your creative/artistic medium, know that this is something that comes with exploration. And exploration is part of the beauty of learning a new art form.
Be open minded to the mediums that come your way. Set aside an art supply if it brings you more frustration than joy; but, try not to turn your back on it entirely. Return to it once your skills develop a little further and you feel ready to tackle it once again.
And once you find your medium, be open to it potentially changing down the line.
Exploration truly takes you on a trip. And part of the eye-opening journey that comes with learning art, is in the inherent push that it offers—it pushes you to test your limitations, to push back on your boundaries, and to push past notions of predictability and control.
With all of this in mind, best of luck with your discovery process. I truly hope you find a creative medium that brings you joy.
. . . and then, I hope you challenge it but trying something new.
Stay creative,
Juli Rox
