I am almost finished with my submission for The 2012 Sketchbook Project! Hooray–just one more page to go!
I’ll admit that I was somewhat intimidated at the start of the project, mainly because you are asked to choose a theme for your sketchbook when you sign up online. A theme? None of my journals have ever had a theme! At least, no theme other than “me”: what I am working on, what I am thinking about, and what I am exploring at the time. (Is that too self-centered?)
But whether I am intimidated or not, I generally follow rules; so I signed up and selected a theme from the list that was given without too much fuss. In many places on the website there were encouragements to use the themes as guides and suggestions, not limitations. I still felt a little uneasy. I had decided on “monochromatic,” since I felt that was safe–I could use it to influence my method or media, if not my subjects.
After all, giving my sketchbook a theme–Hopes and Failures, The Worst Story Ever Told, or a similar one from the list of suggestions–would be to bare more than I am ready for. I take comfort in the fact that no one really knows what my doodles, collages, paintings, and journal pages are all about. Their response to anything I put out there remains just that–theirs.
I think back to one of my favorite bands when I was in college, The Cocteau Twins, and how you could never really understand the lyrics that their vocalist was singing. I heard her (Liz Fraser) explain it in an interview this way: that she had some painful experiences, that she wanted to talk about them and express her pain in some way, yet she was afraid to do that, so keeping her lyrics difficult to distinguish kept her protected. She was speaking, but no one could really understand what she was saying. Online, I found this quote from her: “It’s amazing though…I mean really the records are…a representation of our coping skills…”
Yes, it’s more than a little ironic to sing into a microphone and hope that no one understands you, just like it doesn’t make any sense to post art online on this big,vast internet and then refuse to tell anyone what it’s really about. But we all cope in our own way.
My Brain In Pictures 
I love what you wrote here : ‘But whether I am intimidated or not, I generally follow rules’, because that is soooo me!! I like what you wrote about Liz Fraser. That is pretty amazing for her to keep her lyrics difficult to distinguish, I think I do that in some way with my new abstract paintings. I painted something recently and I was thinking of my cousins the whole time I was doing it, I mean really thinking about them and how we grewup together. So that painting became about them. And I am glad I got that out of me. But to explain that to someone while showing them the painting would make no sense and how can then even care? Nothing eventful (only to me) happened.. Not sure if what I am saying here relates directly with what you posted but nevertheless I am glad you posted because I made me think:)
Hello Fran–friend and fellow rule-follower! 🙂 So yes, what you are saying relates to what I posted and I know exactly what you are saying. Thanks, as always, for visiting!
Thought-provoking post, Laura. I think it says a lot about what art should be. And good for you for braving the submission process. Loved the drawing you posted.
Hi Roberta! Yes, I wonder if knowing everything that behind a piece of art adds to our enjoyment of it, or if we should just enjoy and appreciate it for itself. Such a question!