This is a post from my blog archive (which used to live on my website) I wrote it last summer, while I was recovering from an operation. I have really enjoyed writing blogs like this in the past, and I wanted to transfer some of them over to this Substack. I hope you enjoy reading!
I’ve always been a do-er - I like to keep busy, and am not great at sitting still. It can mean that I create a lot, and when I did the MA, I was surprised by how often people commented on how much I made. But it felt normal to me, and I didn’t see it as a benefit. Whenever people commented on the quantity, I used to think, ‘yeeesss, but often it is the same thing repeated over and over again, or me trying to grasp something by just stubbornly making’, and it often didn’t feel like I was making much progress at all.
I have slowly learned that although there is some benefit to working that way (and I think for better or worse, it is my default setting and I have made it work for me) the big game changer was bringing reflection into my process.
I remember when I first started to consider illustration as possible for me; I was having some tutorials with Orange Beak’s, Maisie Paradise Shearring and she said to me that I needed to learn to focus. I remember literally not being able to understand what she meant! I was baffled. How could I focus? What did she mean!? Over the course of the next few years, particularly during the MA, I slowly started to understand what she meant - that I was missing a crucial part of the creative process: time spent reflecting on the work I had made.
I wanted to use this post to talk about three times self-reflection has helped me take a leap forward in my life and creative journey.
One - leaving work
Being brave enough to hand in my notice at work was a pivotal point in my life - I honestly don’t know if I ever thought I would be brave enough. First of all, I loved my job, (in children’s publishing where I had worked for 20 years); it was creative, exciting, and inspiring, and I felt fortunate to work in a world where my role was to create books for children every day. But… as time went on, I moved through my thirties, my child grew up, and I began to realise that by getting caught up in a career that I loved, I had neglected my own creative desires. I had grown up assuming I would become an artist, one way or another, but somehow I had got distracted and it had ended up lasting 20 years! For the last few years of work, every holiday, with a bit of time and space to reflect on what I was doing with my life, I would suddenly remember my desire to become an artist! What was I doing? Why was I using all my energy working for someone else and not my own creative work!? It would hit me like a slap in the face, but then, as the holiday finished, and I went back to the office, I would get caught up in the deadlines, the books to be completed, the illustrators to brief, and my resolve would slowly fade away…
But one year, I picked up The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron and started doing the Morning Pages every day. It was then that I first created enough space to allow my desires and thoughts to emerge - I was beginning to reflect. I realised I didn’t want to wait any longer. It wasn’t as easy as that of course - but it awoke something in me. I then started reflecting in a big way - I read as many books on going freelance (as a creative) as I could, about dreaming big, and visualising what I wanted. I began to feel it was possible. And in 2019 I finally plucked up the courage to leave! It’s not all been a Hollywood ending. I’ve worked harder than ever since leaving, but ultimately, I am so happy I have given myself the chance to live my dream. To at least try…
Two - During the MA
I began the MA in the manner to which I was accustomed: working with a frantic, obsessive, relentless energy. I remember Pam Smy saying to me that I needed to learn to look back over my sketchbooks, and I knew that I should, but the drive to keep moving forward was very strong. However… the MA was structured so that we were constantly being tasked with looking back and reflecting, both on our own work, and on each other’s, in tutorials and workshops, and I was slowly learning how to reflect. But the time that stands out is during the Master’s Stage project. It is the final module on the MA, and worth double the marks of the rest, so it was a big ‘un! It was the summer, and we were encouraged to keep making work over the holiday period. I decided that the best way for me was to do a #100dayproject, as it didn’t involve too much planning, and I could incorporate it into a busy summer. The first big thing I did was to set an intention for the project. I knew I wanted to screen-print my final project (spoiler, I didn’t end up screen-printing it!!) and a little way into the project, I realised that it would be good to practice working in layers of single colour, like you would in a screen-print. I didn’t follow this every day, but for at least half the project I worked that way.
The end of summer came and I went back to college to complete the last module, and I felt, thanks to the #100dayproject, that I was in a flow of painting in a way that felt loose, but considered. I understood what I was trying to do when working that way, and I guess you could say I was painting intentionally. But…! For a while, I was determined to continue to work in screen-print. I started to do digital screen-prints, and was all set to make my book that way, when in a tutorial, Martin Salisbury said to me: “why are you going to screen-print, when you have developed this visual language over the summer that is working so well?” I think the truthful answer was: I was that I believed I didn’t know how to! I didn’t know how I could translate observational sketches into illustrations. But I dutifully spent a few weeks reflecting on what I had made - what was working, what wasn’t, making experiments, failing, trying agin - until I suddenlyI made some pieces where it felt like I had managed it - they felt like a huge leap forward to me - I had had what we called on the MA, a breakthrough! Allowing the time and space to work, reflect, and experiment was huge, and a personal breakthrough for me.
Three - Patreon and Courses
I decided to start a Patreon channel sometime in the first year of the MA. I had always wanted to blog when it was first becoming a thing, but I never actually did it, and I didn’t want to miss out on Patreon, which felt like the next version of blogging - at least, the next version I was interested in. In retrospect, it was ambitious, but at the time I just saw it as something I was drawn to, a bit of fun and a creative outlet. Little did I know I was inadvertently creating the ultimate tool for self-reflection. Each time I did a sketchbook video, I was looking back at my own work, reflecting on what was working, how I felt about it, and taking lessons from it. By doing material deep dives, I was taking the time to explore art materials in a way that, if I’m honest, I probably wouldn’t have been so methodical about doing without Patreon! Since then I have created this Substack, where I share all the same material I was creating for my Patreon, plus newsletters like this.
Since leaving work, and during and after the MA I have made Mark-Making workshops, I ran a “Projects Tier” on my Patreon, which was designed to help people manage projects, create accountability and support for them.
I have also run two Creative Re-Set courses, which are all designed around reflection. During the course you look back at your own work, work you admire, your life, using reflection to gain a deeper understanding of yourself and your creative practice, and by doing that forge a path ahead for yourself. You could say I designed it for me - and, let’s face it, I probably did! I hope to be able to run the course again later this year, you’ll be the first to hear once I do.
Through all of these self-initiated projects, I was constantly reflecting back on my work, process, breakthroughs, and struggles, and I know it has been a critical part of my development and growth!
I have been a bit quieter than usual recently, particularly over on Instagram, because I am working on my first two illustrated Children’s Books! Wow! What a huge learning curve that has been, definitely lots of reflecting during that process! but that’s for another post…
In the meantime, if you have enjoyed this, and you would like to get access to my process and behind-the-scenes videos, join my live monthlyArt Play Dates, and a whole lot more, you can become a paid subscriber for £4.50 per month, for which, as well as access to all of my content, you get my eternal gratitude. I love creating this content, and every paid subscription helps me grow this wonderful creative space and allows me to dedicate more time to it.
Ella xx
Really thought-provoking post, thank you! Martin Salisbury's question to you rang a huge bell for me. Someone recently asked why I want to work in colour when black and white has always been my thing. I realised that I thought colour was 'better' and that you were supposed to work in colour for book illustration. But now I've decided it's time for a hard pivot (probably at the speed of an oil tanker turning, but anyway....) to try to figure out a way to work in colour, but working the way I do in black and white.
It's so brilliant to see your illustrations next to the observational drawings, to see the links between them.
Another wonderful post Ella :). I missed it when tragedy struck our family around this time, but I'm slowly trying to find my way back to creating again. If for nothing else than to hopefully help heal & stay sane. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you bring back your course sometime this year!