Fear of the BLANK page

At the start of each notebook and sketch pad we tend to pause; or when the thrill of a ripping the plastic cover off of a fresh canvas has subsided we can often feel the paralyzing fear that overcomes many artists: Blank Page Syndrome.

Blank-Page syndrome can occur in many areas of an individuals life — artist can feel this fear from the obvious situation of new paintings to the overwhelmingly plain vacuum that is the gallery walls. No matter where the setting; this sometimes irrational fear originates from the core belief that ones worth is directly tied to their perceived success.

This fear of the blank page can be a complex masquerade, a looming of ones insecurity that can be paralyzingly crippling and can cause an artist to stumble even before they left the starting block.

I experience Blank Page fear on a daily basis; whether it be starting a new project, pitching an idea, or just as recently, moving into my fourth year studio. Looking into a blank space can be overwhelming and daunting and can feel like it sucks your creativity right out of your soul.

The doubts start creeping in…

Am I allowed to do it like this?

What will others think of me?

What if it sucks?

Am I doing it right?

What if it fails?

These thoughts can fuck you over and leave you feeling like you should take that new canvas, journal, sketch pad, or studio and just set it on fire. Because you cannot fail, if you never start right?

When I was a young artist I received a brand new sketchbook for my birthday, and while I was brimming with excitement to begin a new book, the fear of the Blank Page would always come creeping inward.

My practice was to flip the page when something went “wrong” in my drawing and start over, abandoning the last page as if it had never existed as I was embarrassed over my mistakes. This can also be extrapolated to other parts of my art practice— when I buy a new tool I often felt a looming sense of doubt in the back of my mind that makes it hard to take it out of the box and begin to experiment.

So why start on a blank page at all?

While this may not apply to every scenario regarding this fear, starting from something that is already a mess is how I have come to find my own style in my paintings.

As children we often create boldly without concern, paying no attention to the judgement from others and more importantly judgment from yourself; drawing inside the lines is something we learn in preschool thus establishing what is “right” and “wrong” when making art.

Within my painting area last year, there was something I affectionately referred to as the “splash zone”. Most of the time the floor had more paint on it than the actual canvas. Tuning myself into the pure energy of childhood wonder creating from my senses helped lead me down a path to new ways of creation—

close your eyes as you feel your movements imagining the painting develop within your mind

Touch the paint (granted it’s not toxic)- finger painting -scratching- rubbing- washing- splatting

Use unusual tools like spare kitchen utensils (to be kept for art only) , wrap wire onto a sponge, throw felted balls dipped in ink, cover the whole canvas in the plastic it came in and use the wrinkles to mop up wet paint and create unconventional pattern making.

This forced abstraction process can serve as a warm-up before a more concise approach like a quick cardio before the gym, we have to be free to make mistakes and stretch out muscles before we decide to get serious (if we even decide to!).

In my fourth year studio the first thing I did was to add colour to the bare white walls which immediately relieved the pressure that it has to be a certain way. This colourful wall relieved me from the burden of keeping a clean creative process as the splatters and stains that will come from this years art will fit right in.

The fact that this blog has taken me a month to start is my ongoing struggle with the Blank Page, an apt first post that I had been putting off due to the inner struggle all artist face.

Just starting…