I love reading books that provide inspiration either on art itself and its creators or on how to be a better artist yourself. In the latter category belongs Austin Kleon’s trilogy (“How to steal like an artist”, “How to sell like an artist”, “How to live like an artist”), as well as my latest book acquisition, Jerry Saltz’s “How to be an artist”. As I am reading it currently, just today I read this chapter about how cleaning up your studio and rearranging your stuff can stir things up and ignite new ideas – a concept laid out by Kleon in one of his books, as well. Which is exactly how my latest artwork came into being.

It was in late summer I think, when – though I was working on another project at the time – I decided one day to rearrange a stack of big size papers that were leaning against the wall, squeezed between framed artworks so that they would not bend, in one word: long-forgotten. Among them were 2 pieces of paper, not blank, but seemingly not finished either. It seems that, in a span of at least 8 years, they had undergone 2 moves to different homes, completely unobserved.

Seeing them again after soo long was like seeing them for the first time. I had completely forgotten their existence. Which meant that I could observe them detached, with fresh eyes. Immediately, I wanted to do something with them. I did not know what exactly right away, but there was an imperative urge to find out.

The one that has now become the artwork titled “Navigating Existence” was, at that point, a white canvas full of orange egg-like shapes and which had a bunch of tapes attached to it, hiding parts of the shapes. I have no idea what was the original intention of the artist (myself 8+ years ago – a totally different person), but today’s Chryssoula found new inspiration out of ripping these tapes off and breathing new life to this neglected piece of paper. It goes without saying, that the outcome would not have been the same, had these 8 years not passed by. (Mind you, the ripped off tapes were not thrown in the garbage. Who knows what the future has in store for them?!)

As for the second piece of paper that caught my attention that evening, it was initially meant to be just an exercise on working with ink. That much I do remember. And in this regard, it felt complete back then. But now, seeing it again after all this time, these brush strokes felt as if they were posing a question that begged for an answer. I had to indulge myself into investigating what the “suitable” reply would be. This is the reason why this artwork will be named “Answering to my younger self’s question” or something like this. And that’s what I am currently working on, this long due reply. Stay tuned for this one!

*The good thing about the kind of books that I talk about in the beginning of this post – as with art itself, as Jerry Saltz points out in one of his chapters – is that they never get old. Even though themselves they do not really change, every time we revisit them they have always something new to teach us, something new to shed light upon. And that’s because we ourselves constantly change. And that’s a really good thing! After all, isn’t it exactly this what life is all about?