0
0
was successfully added to your cart.

Cart

Category

Uncategorized

Sep 11 2018
0

Talk About The Hard Things | Suicide Prevention Week

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

In a span of three years, three of my neighbours reportedly chose to leap to their deaths. It’s a jarring fact, that people I don’t personally know but are at such close proximity, human beings I may have shared a lift with or bumped into coming and going, tragically ran out of reasons to wake up to another morning.

It’s International Suicide Prevention Week. It’s time to open this dialogue, talk about the hard things and keep the conversation going. With social media, it’s so very easy to think that everyone’s lives and relationships are all rainbows, sparkly things and IG-worthy. We all know that’s not true, but it’s always easy to forget.

Please, stay connected to another living soul. Meet up or call a friend, knock on your neighbor’s door, talk to a stranger on the train, and/or seek professional help. And if you feel someone is in a dark place or going through tough times, surprise them with a call or a chat just to see how their day is going. It could mean the world to someone and can literally save a life.

Contact the following for professional support:
www.afsp.org
www.sos.org.sg

Aug 06 2018
0

Michelangelo Did Not Starve For his Art

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

That’s why he was, at that time, worth what would be $47 MILLION today?

Just read that eye-popping tale in a book by Jeff Goins recently, a revelation discovered by Professor Hatfield in 1995 when he stumbled upon the artist’s bank records while researching something else.

Suddenly, the way I always envisioned him was wrong! It’s a nice, happy thought that kinda puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? ??

THINK ABOUT THAT! Let’s start the week with that empowering thought, why don’t we?

Have a fruitful and easy week up ahead!

Jan 23 2018
0

How My Art Helps Me Cope With Anxiety Attacks (Especially While Flying)

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

I’m not an easy flyer. The smaller the plane, the more agitated I become. Let me clarify though that I do not fear flying. It’s the helplessness over a constricted space for a duration of time that triggers my anxiety.  That’s why I never attend concerts or go to packed noisy bars. I would take the stairs instead of the elevator all the time if I could.

I’m not sure if anxiety and panic attacks are the same for all but in my case, it usually starts with a physical and inexplicable sensation of dread combined with a feeling of being underwater then it’s just downhill from there.  What compounds the situation, more often than not, is my anticipation that comes with the feeling of dread because I feel I know what’s gonna happen next. Suddenly, everything seems way too loud and I feel like throwing up, and I just want people to shut up and stop talking. It feels cramped and crowded suddenly and I feel suffocated that I need air, a fresh breeze and open space. The sensation oddly seems to start at my knees. That the invisible fear manifests itself so tangibly in such a physical and consistently specific manner is one I still have to wrap my head around.

When I panic, I become hyper-sensitive to the world around me. Inside a plane, everything becomes more than it really is and there are  things that suddenly I obsess about: my seat feels too small. the chair in front of me and the passenger across the aisle are too close (though I’m certain they truly are at this day and age), there’s not enough ventilation, the plane feels stuffy and hot and the flight feels excruciatingly long (they truly are if you’re flying without sleep for almost 24 hours from SG to NYC) and on top of that I feel the plane’s every single movement, bump and shudder and it always feels magnified a thousand times stronger and louder in my head.

Eventually, the panic affects my breathing to the point of dizziness that I feel I’m perpetually falling even if I was sitting down. In the past, I’ve passed out and fainted to the ground several times, thankfully with a friend present (one of those times was triggered by an empty stomach and lightheadedness so that doesn’t really count).  Over the years, it has thankfully fizzled out due to a lot of self-awareness and the ability to mitigate circumstances but it has not been eradicated completely and I could only wish it did.

This is something I need to manage because I do need to get to different points that require flying, whether for personal reasons or work.  In the past, I always drank in the plane. They say you shouldn’t due to dehydration but it’s what helps knock me out to sleep. I don’t take sleeping medication so I’m even more apprehensive to take that 30,000 feet in the air especially when traveling alone.

Last Christmas, I asked myself if there was a way I could divert my attention during the flight to curb my sensitivity to my surrounding. To be honest, the idea came to me during the height of the fidget-spinner craze. I decided to try something different and I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.

I decided to draw.

It was my first time to shift my entire concentration elsewhere and with deliberate razor-sharp focus during a flight. In the past, the only thought running through my head the entire trip was “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”. So  I gave myself a tangible goal, which was to complete one sketchbook spread per flight, no excuses. It was a 3.5 hour ride, so it can be definitely be done.

And guess what, it worked like a charm! I managed to finish both spreads 30 minutes before landing.

Some people tell me to just watch the in-flight entertainment. I am terribly far-sighted that a screen in front of me in a moving plane at such close proximity is just counter-intuitive. And watching a movie to me is still tantamount to doing nothing.  Why not sleep, they ask. Because I can’t and it’s just one of those things.

I usually have at least three full glasses of wine per flight. This time, I had only one on the first flight, and none on the second.  I was so obsessive about my task and achieving a goal that instead of fearing turbulence, I became angry at it because it gave me crooked lines.  Considering it was a bumpy ride, I didn’t notice it at all until the flight attendant said we were flying through a storm.


It was, without a doubt, definitely a super achievement-unlocked moment that I felt like banging my head against the wall asking myself why I didn’t think of doing this sooner. I typically keep a sketchbook inside my check-in baggage as a back-up activity in case I get bored when I get to my destination but it never occurred to me to do it mid-flight  instead.

This great inconvenience is one of the things about myself I wish I can undo but for now all I can do is manage how I think and mitigate my surroundings. Otherwise, it was definitely a first for me to be almost relaxed end to end. And if you are someone familiar with my situation, you would sincerely understand that this was no mean feat.

Okay then. Onto the next goal: what to draw for a 20-hour flight.

 

Oct 23 2017
0

Are You Doing What You Set Out To Do?

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

I was having dinner with friends one time, and when I asked what he does, he gave me this wordy title that clearly went over my head, not to mention it was in an industry that I find rather difficult to comprehend. It was a long-winded terminology I can’t even recall what he said.  I replied, “I didn’t know there was such a thing!”.  It was the kind of designation you most likely never dreamed of because you probably didn’t know it even existed.

“Did you ever foresee yourself in this job when you were in school?”, I asked.

He replied, “No. I wanted to be a chef.”

There was a time when we declared what we set out to do. We said it with conviction, with clarity. We knew we could do it because we believed. And then life happened, many of us end up being one of the little cogs of a machinery built on routine, endless paperwork, planning meetings to plan other meetings, days that become years weighing down until our dreams are flattened and pummelled into something that’s barely a whisper of a memory.

When I was 4, there were two things I told anyone who would ask what I wanted to do. I declared that I wanted to be an artist and a teacher.  I count myself fortunate as I actually did and continue to do what I originally set out to do. It did, however, take me almost twenty years to make that switch and commit to my first love: art.  I dug up this book for the first time in a long time.  When I looked at the dedication, I realised it was given to me in 2006, shortly before I hit a creative block in 2007. 

So what took so long, and why did I resort to Plan B and procrastinate my creative dream?  I can think of three things that held me back:

1. Limiting beliefs

As a child born in the 70s and grew up in the 80s, I was told that art was not a job nor is it a career. The idea was never taken seriously and simply was not an option for out middle-class family.  However, they did praise and encourage my art as a hobby and something fun to do, but nothing beyond that.  I was trained to believe that a career meant a fixed monthly pay check, working behind a desk and sticking to one company all the way until retirement. And that’s when they said I should do what I loved.

2. Poverty consciousness

Art was not something I thought would pay unless you are extremely gifted, like the great masters or come from a well-to-do family.  Again, this is what I was taught.  I grew up in the era that fostered the image of the “starving artist”, something I always thought would happen  if I pursued a career in art.

3.  Self-doubt

Being my own worst critic, this is perhaps the most pronounced reason that affected my career. Linking back to my first reason, I always thought art, to be of any value to anyone, had to be serious, perfect and staid.  I compared myself to other classmates who could draw a life-like face with proper shading and shadows, or a landscape with such accurate perspective. I look at my skewed and lopsided scraggly strokes and splotches of bright colors and it never occurred to me that I had what it takes to make a profession out of it.

Well, guess what?  Years and a slew of chances later, and even if I didn’t go to art school, I finally did!

Are you doing what you always said you would do?

What made you do it, or what is holding you back?

Sep 04 2017
2

Starting Old And The Emboldened Late Bloomer

By | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

I’ve never been one to shy away from talking about my age. Etiquette dictates that it’s one of the things one should never bring up. Why that is so, I am not really sure. But my age has a lot to do with the story of my work.

This post is dedicated to everyone who set sail in search of new beginnings for a fresh career later in life because not everyone gets to start young.

Since I graduated in 1997, I’ve had a repertoire of jobs in my resume. All are non-creative fields, mostly unrelated but all have a way of unwittingly contributing to my professional backbone You can read about my past life here.

Over the years, I’ve attempted a multiple times to make that one final switch but always with one foot out the door. This explains why my full-time career as a painter and an artist only kicked off two years ago. Most people celebrate 40 with something big, like a glitzy party or traveling to some fabulous, IG-worthy destination.

I spent turning 40 in my studio, furiously painting in preparation for my very first solo, sold-out show here in Singapore last April.

I didn’t realize I have made a number of good friends in the country we now call home and I had to hold back tears as I welcomed each of them who came to the opening night to lend their support. Seeing the red stickers marking the labels of my entire work was just surreal.

What would have happened if I threw in the towel and ditched the whole idea of committing to being a full-time artist? If not for my husband, who sternly told me to stay on track even without tangible results, I would have resorted once again to a mediocre Plan B, C and even D.

Starting old comes with humility.  By this stage, friends and contemporaries are already at the prime of their careers and lives The idea of starting from the ground up past 35 was very daunting, to say the least. And the thought of having to learn something new all over again and the risk of not being up to par was downright terrifying. So when someone closer to mid-life makes that choice to switch industries, that person has made a conscious decision to leave their pride behind as much as they can, with a large dose of humility as their ticket into unfamiliar territory.

Starting old is a privilege.  There is no point wondering how differently my journey would have been had I started right after school. That ship, for a fact, has definitely sailed 20 years ago. The privilege now, however, is the conscious choice to move forward out of your own accord.

When someone decides to venture into a completely new profession, I consider it a privilege because that choice was made knowing that you’ve been around the block and that it will take so much more than a negative comment or lack of results to unnerve and break you. 

By the time you’ve made this choice, you would already have something to back you up, be it a previous career or simply years of expertise in handling adversity.  There is confidence running in your veins, knowing that even if there is a slight chance this might not take off, you have already established that you are good at other things.

We’ve tried new things before and we can definitely do it again.  And there is honor in trying because we choose to take that chance.

Starting old comes with dignity.   By starting late, we’ve earned our medals from the school of hard knocks. We know pretty much how the real world works. We know how to conduct ourselves properly, be it facing a client, negotiating prices or writing a well-voice correspondence.  More than being an artist, we are, above all, professional. 

Not everyone will like our work, we won’t always get a call-back, and not everyone will respond favourably, or if they do at all.  It’s impossible not to be affected, and of course it will annoy and frustrate me for a day or two.  But I’m not going to drag it out and sulk, and neither am I going to whine incessantly or drown my sorrows over a good bottle of wine.  That’s because I know I’ve dealt with far worse over the years and this is but a glitch in the bigger scheme of things. Really. 

Defeat is nothing new. It is inconvenient, it is uncomfortable and it can be extremely disheartening.  However, we know for a fact that this not something new and because of age, it is not unfamiliar.  With age, however, we know how to gracefully move on as excruciatingly as it may seem.

And grace is but a gift that truly comes with age.

May 17 2017
1

Make Instagram Work For Your Art (And Not The Other Way Around)

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

It’s been almost a month since the opening of “Myriad”, my first solo gallery sold-out show. The response has been nothing short of breathtaking, with paintings moving even weeks before the opening. Even after the last piece was declared sold on opening night, the gallery informed me that inquiries were still pouring in from places as far as Greece.

I am overwhelmed, elated, humbled and anxious all at once.

Overwhelmed by the wonderful response.

Elated that my work is appreciated.

Humbled by others’ faith in what I do.

But anxious as I wonder where I go from here.

My husband just shook his head and reminded me to stop, relax and relish the moment.

It started in 1997.

My story as a professional artist began the moment I left university with a BA in Psychology in 1997, and tried being everything else other than myself. Since then, I made half-hearted efforts to break into the art industry but always with one foot out the door, ready to bolt whenever things didn’t go as planned.

And that’s exactly what happened.

When things hit a slump or did not yield the desired result, I quickly went back to my comfort zone and sprinted right back to Plan B, C and even D.

Although I had an exhibit in a bistro and another one in a fine-dining restaurant in 2003 and 2004 respectively, it wasn’t until last year, 2015, that I sold my first work through an art gallery.  While I juggled 3 to 4 non-creative part-time jobs while trying to do part-time art after 2004, my half-hearted efforts would pretty much produce a half-baked career. This was how it was up until I hit my creative block sometime in 2007 and had my breakthrough in 2012.

Fast forward to April 2017, after a long and excruciatingly slow journey strewn with hits and misses, twists and turns, I found my way back to myself.

A body of new work up in my first solo gallery show has come to fruition.

Climb a wall and commit.

For a brief moment, I got into wall-climbing. At that time, I also had the good fortune of coming to the facility whenever the national team came for training.  On my first evening,  I passed the halfway mark of a 40-foot wall, when I was met with a 1-ft indentation jutting directly over my head at a 90-degree angle. I could’t figure out how I could hoist myself up. While I was trying to find a grip, I yelled down below “I can’t!”. Others who were resting heard me and yelled “Commit! Commit! Just commit!”

This meant that I should release my grip, and without fear, hoist myself up with everything I’ve got and commit to another grip with the free hand. It also meant to let go and have faith in the movement.

When I moved to Singapore in 2010, I eventually saw it as a blank page, a fresh start, and a chance to reinvent myself as an artist. It was this brand of commitment that I took to heart that changed everything. I stopped doing things that were not-related to my art. Then, I closed down my Etsy and Society6 shop because that wasn’t what my work was about anymore. I said ‘no’ to a lot of offers which no longer fit my vision.

I narrowed my focus, buckled down and did nothing but paint, paint and paint.

Social media helped. By a mile.

Let social media work for you and not the other way around.

I joined Instagram in 2014 when I got into calligraphy, a craft with a very strong and supportive community around the world. Unfortunately, this was a short-lived hobby but I learned that being part of a community, even though we’ve never met each other in person, made a world of difference. So I stayed on Instagram.

Being on social media gave me a chance to grow my work in anonymity.  It gave me a different kind of validation knowing that my art is valued simply for what it is, and not something born of friendship, affiliation, or a favor.  In 2015, I joined an Instagram class by Melissa Camillieri. This was a game-changer. It gave social media a purpose, a direction, and showed me how something seemingly fun and mundane can otherwise be a powerful tool to connect with the world and build my work.  If there’s one thing that made IG work for me, it would be the sincerity behind both what I post and the art that I do.

Oh, and hey! A little bird told me that she’s holding her next class in a week or two! To see what this class is all about, click here.

Perhaps one of the biggest pitfalls of being on Instagram is relying on it solely  to build your business. While this can totally work  it is an unfair expectation to think that Instagram will do the job for you.  Instagram is merely a tool to be heard by the universe around you. Instagram did not create my art. My art existed independently of social media except it’s like I was handed an extraordinary megaphone to tell my story, loud enough to be heard across the planet.

And, gratefully, they did.

Apr 04 2017
1

When Art Becomes A Little Less Fun (Part 3 of 3)

By | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

In an earlier post, I delved into the changes that happen when art is no longer something you do for fun, when it’s something you have to do because it’s your life, and it’s your job.

Things change when you do art professionally.   When things shift from hobby to industry, we become our own boss. Thus, parameters need to be defined and, like any other 9-to-5, work conduct must be upheld in all our transactions.  The goal of our craft is not simply about getting messy and mixing paints for its own sake.

It becomes about someone adding value in the world.

Art is not free

When I was 14, I hand-painted posters for an event in my local country club. It was something I personally pitched to the manager, and something I wanted to do because I was on summer holiday and I was running out of things to do.  The deal was they provided the materials, and I drew. I honestly think that was the start of my professional career! 🙂

One would think twice about asking a lawyer, a doctor or a carpenter to do work for free.  However, and quite sadly, many people will not hesitate in assuming that artists will be okay to do things pro bono. Up until recently, I still got offered mileage as payment, good golly.  In my opinion, mileage does not pay anymore, not in this era of social media with today’s generation of outspoken artists.  You can read my thoughts on this  here.

I’ll understand if it’s for a charitable cause that is in dire need of support, and it’s also your prerogative if you want to accept work  in exchange for goods and services that will be of use to you.  Be open to negotiations but refrain from doing things for free.  Doing things for a free meal? I say no.

I’ve also read about a lot of people on social media reaching out to designers and artists asking them for free items in exchange for a blog post and an Instagram feature.  It’s easy to get excited at the idea that someone else will talk about your work.

But here are some key questions to ask:  Who are they? What do they promote? How wide is their reach? And most importantly, how robust is their engagement? It’s not always about the number of followers that makes the difference so I’ll talk about this at a later post.  Always be on your guard when offers like these come your way because people who sincerely want to promote you on social media will do so out of their own free will because they truly believe in you.

The practice of doing art for free should be obliterated from our paradigm.

Refrain from apologising

I think a good number of artists have an issue quantifying work. It’s uncomfortable and makes people queasy. But over time, I learned to do this as gracefully as possible, with conviction and dignity. After all, art is work, mine and yours. The best advice I ever came across was in an article on the internet.  I cannot remember whose article it was but she said this: Never apologise for your prices.  

I used to be guilty of this when asked about my rates, ending it with “For the project, it costs $_____.  So sorry!”.   Now that I think about it, I can’t exactly remember why I was being apologetic yet it rolled offf my tongue quite easily.

Like I was apologising that I had to charge for art.

It was only when I accepted and embraced the full scope of my work and that it IS a job,  a profession like everything else and thus requires equal treatment like all other industries. Thus said, setting our professional fees respects global industry standards, ideally. It is rooted on size and materials (if it’s something like a painting), experience,  merit and scope of work. This makes your pricing clear, reliable and fair because it’s objective.  It’s not some numbers you pulled out of a hat or priced based on the level of emotion attached to your work.

The idea of a starving artist must die a swift and instant death right now and never be heard from again.  It is a poorly romanced idea of what makes an artist “real’.  When it comes to being a professional artist, there is much weight on the word “profession” as much as there is on “artist”.

The goal as working artists, aside from making beautiful art, is to make a living by being fair, sincere, trustworthy and credible across varying projects and clients. What our art means to people is just as important as who they’re dealing with, and our sense of commitment and purpose in all our endeavours.

To read Part 1, click here.

To read Part 2, click here.

Mar 29 2017
3

When Art Becomes A Little Less Fun (Part 2 of 3)

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

As artists, why do we have to talk about money? Because we have to and because it’s our job to do so as a working artist.

In my opinion, this is, perhaps, the trickiest part when it comes to art: pricing your work. Money is something many of us enjoy having, but not necessarily something we enjoy talking about. This is the part when art becomes a little less fun.  I remember being taught that it’s something you simply don’t talk about at all, and asking for money is just a big no-no.  This mentality is perhaps what feeds the guilt and the lack of confidence many of us have when it comes to commanding rates and prices because art is not exactly a straightforward product you can reduce to a number, like a bag of flour or a bottle of shampoo that can be easily and objectively quantified.

But really, how do we expect to be paid if we don’t have the initiative to even talk about the value of what we do?

Pricing method

There are some ground rules you can set for your body of work. For painters like myself, one can price art per square inch, per linear inch or by the hour plus costs. Personally, I use the square inch method because it’s what I was taught and  it has worked for me since.   Now knowing the multiplier without overpricing yourself will require a lot of research.  Study the different prices of artworks across varying work experience, exhibits, art background (I have none, don’t worry), size and medium.  The internet makes this part rather easy.

Setting the tone

I think this is where having a non-art background helps.  In an earlier blog post, I talked about my years of experience wearing many non-creative hats and how this provided a solid backbone from which  business ethics and protocols were born. These non-artsy elements are key in being a reliable artist.  Our decorum affects people’s perception of our  transactions, whether on paper or in person.  Do you hesitate when asked for pricing? Do you exude conviction?  Ditch the emojis, the smiley faces and the multiple exclamation points.  Refrain from making jokes or giggling nervously, and try not to get flustered in the client’s presence when money is now the focus of the discussion.

If, however,  you feel you can’t blurt out a price at the drop of a hat, be honest and say “Could you give me time to review your requirements?  I’ll get back to you within the day”.   This will buy you time but do not delay. Keep the turnaround time very swift and be ready to draft your own contract if the client won’t provide any.

Oh, and when dealing with clients face to face, remember to dress smart and neat.  There is immense power in it.

Dealing with low-ballers

Up until recently, I still got offered “mileage” as compensation.  Seriously. It’s 2017 in the age of social media where artists have direct reach with their audience.  Unless it’s a major publication, a relevant TV feature, a globally recognised blogger  or Oprah, the offer of mileage does not always compute.

I also noticed the term “collaboration” being  distorted to serve other people’s own purpose. If you are asked to shell out your time and give your products for free in exchange for foot traffic and exposure yet the establishment you are “collaborating” with benefits financially and directly from the project, I wouldn’t call it a “collaboration” anymore.

I would simply call this unjust.

In the second part of the blog post, let’s talk about doing art (and other creative things) for free and why this practice should be obliterated from today’s world. It’s about time, don’t you think?

Click here to read Part 1.

Click here to continue reading Part 3.

Mar 27 2017
2

When Art Becomes A Little Less Fun (Part 1 of 3)

By | Uncategorized | No Comments

When my husband came home one night, he asked me how my day went and I responded distractedly with “Oh, the usual. Just work.”   To which he replied “Sounds like a day at the office.”

Don’t get me wrong   I jump out of bed each day eager to start working so I count myself very, very, very lucky.   However, there are some days when it’s just a little less fun than it used to be. Here’s why:

1. It’s a job.

And just like any line of work, you now have real and defined responsibilities and deadlines.  Now that it’s not something I do leisurely, it’s a true discipline. There’s also a huge difference between painting versus doing design work for clients.  When we do the latter, get ready for multiple revisions. In both cases, it’s best to clarify limits and conditions in writing and stipulated in a contract.  As mentioned earlier, it’s a job.

2. We’re not always inspired.

Unlike doing art as a pure hobby when I would pick up the brush when a wave of inspiration washes over me,  I now make art not because I want to  but because I really have to.  In the real world, I don’t always feel inspired day in, day out all times of the day. That’s the truth.

The challenge of being a professional in the creative field, I realise, is finding ways to inch forward and make art even when I don’t feel like it.

3. It’s not always 100% spontaneous.

Yes, there is still a lot of liberty and expression in my work, but creativity has now become slightly calculated.  Now that I’ve agreed to a theme or to a concept, I must deliver accordingly.

4. It’s a commitment.

I owe it to myself and my clients to continuously hone my craft.  This means I must continue to try, to experiment, to be better, to practice and ultimately deliver. Being a professional  demands discipline and accountability. This is also why, in an earlier blog post,  I talked about why it’s also good to not become an artist from the very start.  There are many things one can learn first from a not so artsy background.

5. We need to talk about money.

Money. It’s something I need to gracefully talk about with every transaction — with dignity and conviction. Whatever price I assign for services and/or paintings must be consistent so that remunerations are fair and reliable across all clients. One can’t exactly keep changing fees depending on how one feels about a body of work.   This is the part that makes my stomach queasy and something I wish to ponder on further in another post.  Artists, we’re gonna talk about this more!

To continue reading Part 2, click here

Jan 19 2017
3

A List Of Sketchbooks

By | Uncategorized | 2 Comments

For the longest time, people have been asking me about sketchbook recommendations and what brands I use.

Finally, two new things today:

  1. a video, and
  2. all the sketchbooks and journals I use.

I hope this helps! Sorry it took so long but I’m glad I soldiered on and put this together 🙂

Next video coming up answers the question: “What pens do you use?”