Tuna and Tampons

Hello Everyone,

A few weeks ago, two copies of the July issue of Bay State Parent magazine arrived in my mailbox at Hollins. I have never been to the Bay State, nor am I a parent. Surely just one copy of a magazine that is totally irrelevant to my life experience would have sufficed?

Actually, on pages 28 and 29, accompanying an article entitled “Girl Talk Should Start Early,” my first ever published illustration was printed, and these were the two complimentary issues the art director had sent to me:

The illustration

The illustration in Bay State Parent magazine

If you had asked me five years ago, or even five months ago, what I thought the topic of my first professional foray into illustration would be, I probably would not have guessed “menstruation.” And if you had asked me what my second foray would be, I am pretty sure I would not have said, “tuna.” And yet, in the fall, What’s Up? Annapolis magazine will publish an article about canned tuna for which I did an illustration:

To be printed in What's Up? Annapolis magazine this fall

And that’s one of the 8493 reasons why I enjoy life so much. There is absolutely no predicting it, or at least a lot of it. And in many respects, that’s why I love illustration too. Because illustrators are often responding to a text or project assigned to them, rather than one that they create, there is a healthy degree of chance in their daily lives. All creation relies on some degree of spontaneity, but when your job is to make things on a regular basis, be they poems or pictures, how do you ensure your creative impulsiveness keeps its edge?

I read an Oswald Chambers quote a while ago that I found intriguing. “Love is spontaneous,” he says, “but it must be maintained by discipline.” This seems contradictory, I know. Spontaneity itself cannot be disciplined. Even the act of becoming conscious of it spoils it in the same way that self-awareness kills humility. But making sure that I have times when I allow myself to be spontaneous -- that can be regulated. If I don’t write periodically, or talk on the phone with my friends often, or pray consistently (all disciplined actions), then my art and my love won’t be as free or as voluntary.

I’ve come to see the above paradox in this way: If love is a river, then the emotional impulse driving it, that passion which dampens the eyes of a child’s parents at her first ballet recital, and which prompts a hitherto illiterate young lad to compose sonnets to his beloved swooning on the balcony above, is the water. Impetuous and enticing, it is the half of love we usually make art about. But the other half, less conspicuous but just as crucial, is the banks of the river: the discipline that must factor into the equation in any kind of longterm love. Whether this discipline takes the form of going on weekly date nights or writing regular letters to your grandmother, love is as dependent on our level of consistency as it is on the impulsive passion inspiring our actions. Without boundaries, a river cannot exist. It would be as un-sustaining and turbulent as an unmanned garden hose writhing about, spitting water violently into the air. The banks of a river give it both direction and definition. Without banks, the water would simply run into the surrounding countryside, dissipating rapidly. Without the water, though, the banks delineate only a dry bed. A river’s power power comes from the combination of the two.

My brother and I love to mock our father when we travel. (Of course, we treat him with due reverence and esteem when we’re not on holiday . . . ) Inevitably, after an interesting encounter or an unexpected conversation, my dad will say something along the lines of, “How serendipitous! When I woke up this morning, I certainly wasn’t expecting to __________.”

But though we ridicule the Jacksonian need to discuss and evaluate virtually every out of the ordinary experience, my dad’s assessment is valid. Going to new places fosters surprising encounters and activities. But anyone who has planned a trip knows how much work goes into making sure that there will be time and space for these moments of spontaneity to occur.

And so it was with my tampon and tuna illustrations. I was in a class -- a regulated environment -- which connected me to the art directors of each magazine. Within that context, I was able to bring my own spontaneity to a topic I certainly wasn’t able to predict. A prize for anyone who can correctly guess the topic of my next illustration. An even bigger prize for anyone who actually gets me my next illustration.

Have a good, serendipitous week,
Sarah/Mouse

To read the Bay State Parent magazine article in pdf form, go to http://www.baystateparent.com/find-a-copy/the-archives/July-2011-baystateparent-Magazine-124801439.html, scroll down and then jump ahead to pages 28 and 29.

To see my website, which I’ve updated with artwork from the spring quarter, go to my website at www.clearasmudillustration.com.