Welcome to the Creators Dispatch. A weekly essay about the creative journey! Here I write about being an artist, human and angry woman on the internet. Word of mouth is the most special and radical way of sharing. If what I say here inspires you (or pisses you off 🥰) share my work with the group chat, or your best friends neighbour. It REALLY helps 💖
Thirsty for more? I deeply believe in paying artists for their work and the work art/content we consume (think modern day patron!). To be cohesive with my values I allow readers to pay for the work I create here. If you love my writing, get value and resource from it consider becoming a paid subscriber! Paid subscribers get access to more of my writing and *new* monthly community events!
check out my latest essays 👇
Every morning (monday-friday, weekends are for reality tv) I get up and drag my butt from my bed to my couch, cover myself in blankets grab my preferred kraft covered moleskin ruled notebook and write every one of my gnarliest fears, worst thoughts, most embarrassing ideas and unfinished half word vomit onto the page. Then I close my book, drink coffee, eat toast and go into my studio and make art.
Never ever once in my years of morning pages have I ever wanted to go and write them. Not because they’re horrible or unfun but because I love scrolling on my phone, watching reality tv and love hitting “sleep” on my alarm the more. But, I know that if I give myself the space to be not good at something, to just grab the broom and sweep my brain, I can (try) to avoid having the dust accumulate into dust bunnies that try to kill me. I know that if I show up and just do the thing, with no pretence of it ever (like ever ever, like i don’t even reread my morning pages ever) making its way into the world, when I DO show up to the page to write something, I can get to what I am actually trying to do without having to sort through all that aforementioned muck.
The desire of wanting to pour every feeling I have into words and shape shift the feeling into an expression, while also being dyslexic feels like some kind of joke from god, spirit, universe, my DNA, star sign and ancestors – or whoever is responsible for this irony. I am not a clear communicator. And the more I write the more I don’t want to be. Because I am an incredible story teller. I am a prolific poet and think in non-linear story structure. I dream in poetic meters, follow the pattern of a moment to find the interruption, think in terms of art and movements.
But all of that is only possible because I am allowing myself to be not good, no pretence of getting it right the first time or even right at all. To fuck around and kinda never find out. To show up to the page first with kind of a promise to be shit, first.
Art is an expression of you. Not something for someone else to get. I write and maintain that art is not really any of my business once it leaves my finger tips, because art isn’t mine alone. If it was mine alone I would write these letters and fold them up on a sheet of paper and tuck them into a drawer for safe keeping. But I dino’t I hit send, publish, schedule and make the thing I want and send it into the world. I make my bad art, i noodled through the woods of my minds eye and brought this sliver to you. Not because I think it makes total perfect sense but because I feel something, and I want to share that with you. Art doesn’t need to make sense to be good because good art doesn’t get anywhere by being pleasing, or for everyone, or for an audience.
The only way we’ll ever journey through to the actual seed, the nugget, the idea that we actually wanna express, is by wading through the clouds, muck, dust, brain demons, gremlin of perfection, witches hut of not enoughness, troll of your third grade teacher that told you you did the art assignment wrong, and make your (bad) art.
To try, try out loud, try together.
MY LITTERAL FAV (and fan fav!) workshop MAKE YOUR (BAD) ART is next week. Part workshop to plan and vision our dream artists life (what we wanna make and how we wanna make) part open studio vibes to actually make and co-create together! (For those of you that have been here since the Okay Hang days – this will be very similar!)
JOIN PHOEBE FOR MAKE YOUR BAD ART mark your calendars for Sept 21st@ 7pm est to join a circle of humans wanting to create out loud together. Journal, reflect, dream and vision. We will spend some time planning to vision your dream artist life. Notion journal included 🗒️ (of course 💆🏻♀️).
Big love
many blessings for your BAD art
xx
Phoebe