In one episode of the podcast Hidden Brain, host Shankar Vedantam describes a theory called the edge effect, which is the point where two ecosystems adjoin. It's at this location that the most new life forms are created.

Shankar then asks the question: "What could happen when strangers meet?" He explains that interesting things can happen when people from different cultures, backgrounds, and points of view, work together. Just like the edge effect between ecosystems, innovation is more likely to occur when diverse ideas come together. Diversity and creativity go hand in hand.

I've found that I can use the concept of the edge effect on an individual level to spark creativity in my art practice and my life. Simply by doing something different, trying something new, listening to another point of view, or putting uncertainty into my day, can cause a spark of creativity. Trusting that spark and seeing where it takes me is a challenging, but satisfying thing to try. In the past year, I've used these concepts to break things and start anew.

It is scary and uncomfortable to step into the unknown. But it's also exciting. And it's amazingly gratifying to come out the other side and see how you've grown!

Everyone has a desire to be comfortable and safe, but the most interesting things can happen when you allow yourself to be uncomfortable. Open your mind to possibility. Be curious.

 Thank you for coming. Hi, I’m Mary Pow.
 
I began this grant process with the simple desire to have more time to create art. I was interested in allowing myself the freedom to be creative. So, I spent much of the year researching the creative process. The social psychologist Erich Fromm said, “Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties.” I took this to heart when I started my work last summer.

I decided to throw some uncertainties at myself and see what would happen. I pulled out an assortment of strips of fabric that I had saved from other projects. I started to arrange them and sew them together without thinking of the final result. I played a bit with the idea of back and front, and exposing the seams, which was something I had wanted to try for a while.

I wasn’t sure where this work was going to take me. I started to feel a lot of nervousness at the not knowing. What would the final exhibition for this grant turn out to be anyway? What was I going to do? And would I be a disappointment? It was a scary place to be. Yes, I was freaking out a little bit.

 
As I worked with my random scraps of fabric, without the solid knowledge of what the outcome would look like, I realized that I was living through the exact things I was researching. Doing something new requires one to be bold and brave. It can be really, really hard to allow yourself to trust the process and see where you end up. To trust yourself.

As I worked, I considered how human beings are such a confusing species. There is this duality to us. I mean, we have two opposing desires: predictability and exploration. How can we desire both? They are opposites.

On one hand, we love to fit things into boxes. We want simple explanations and absolute answers. We want things to be black and white. Plus, predictability is comfortable.

Contrast that with the human desire for exploration. We crave the new. We’re curious, we love to learn, make discoveries, and explore the vast unknown. We like a challenge, but this can be uncomfortable. ​
 
I got to a stopping point with the piece I was working on, so I hung it up in my studio doorway and stepped back. I didn’t know what I thought about it. Well, I thought I did. I thought I didn’t like it. I thought: What is this anyway? I don’t know what I’m doing! But then then sun streamed through it, and I realized that it was two-sided. And I had an ah-ha! moment. I realized that the things I was thinking about – the opposing human desires of predictability and exploration cannot be separated. They are two sides of the same coin.

And so, I realized for myself as well, that the only way to get through the challenging part of creating art was to push through the hard parts. If I allowed myself to go through the uneasiness of the unknown, I would find the delight of discovering new things; about myself, about my world, about my art. Once I pushed myself through the discomfort, the unknown became known. Thus, the title of the piece hanging in the window is “The Way Out is Through.”

 
I recently heard a journalist say, “How you see the world depends on where you look.” Which really resonated with me, as I love to consider all the different ways that people view the world. I can really get myself going, thinking about: what is reality anyway, when we all see things differently? You know, everyone experiences and understand the world slightly differently, and it all depends on what you value; what you notice; how you were raised. There is never a singular way to see the world.

Of course, people tend to seek out and spend time with others who share similar viewpoints because it’s really comfortable to be with others who see the world like we do. But I learned the importance of searching out ways to make yourself see things differently. The way to be creative and uncover new ideas, is to get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

 
The title for my large piece here on the wall, Luster, comes from a novel. In his book The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen writes, “Life had a kind of velvet luster. You looked at yourself from one perspective and all you saw was weirdness. Move your head a little bit, though, and everything looked reasonably normal.” This line sticks with me. I like to think that each person’s reality can be similar to the luster of velvet. If you are able to shift your viewpoint slightly, everything will look different. And if you can open yourself up to other viewpoints, your world can only expand.
 
If you have any comments or questions, I’ll be more than interested in hearing your viewpoint.
 
Thank you.

Thank you to everyone for coming to the opening reception! If you missed it, you can see the exhibition through July 27, 2019.

I realize that I haven't been at all outspoken about the body of textile art I'm currently working on. Lately, I've been thinking about what I want to say in my artist statement for the upcoming exhibition of my work. It seems an almost impossible task to get down all the thoughts I have while I work into a one-page, 18-point-font statement!

Yesterday I wrote down a sentence I heard Joshua Johnson say on the radio: "How you see the world depends on where you look." It's a timely quote for me.

I'm interested in viewpoints, and humanity, and creativity, and how we're interconnected, and how we each see the world. Thoughts about these ideas float through my head while I work. I take little notes about things I hear and read, and somehow, they all seem connected to a larger idea I have forming in my mind. It's hard for me to put these ideas into words, so I put them into my art.

Everyone sees/experiences/understands the world slightly differently. I don't know if there is a right way or a wrong way to see things. I think maybe there are just different ways. Together, all these different viewpoints add up to create the world of humanity.

Personally, I think we probably need them all. Who is to choose which ones we don't need? Everyone has a different viewpoint. Everyone has a different opinion.

Maybe, instead of thinking one way is right and another one is wrong - if instead we're open to the 'other' - that is the best way. Listen to other people, learn from their experiences of the world, ask them what they see, what they notice; hear their opinions, respect their viewpoints, be curious. If you can be open to the other, your world can only expand.

I invite you to see my textile art in person at the exhibition "Orient, Disorient, Repeat". The opening reception on May 23rd starts at 5:30pm with artist remarks at 6:00pm.

I hope to see you there! I'll be more than interested in hearing your viewpoint.

See you there!

What's new in my studio this spring?! While I've been a bit quiet on my blog lately, I actually have loads going on behind the scenes...

Last month I finished 6 pastel portraits in 6 weeks. When I finished that fun challenge, I immediately decided to start another! I zeroed in on one that would allow me more practice with painting landscape scenes. 10 Views of Lake Nokomis is the challenge I settled on; each week for 10 weeks, I am taking a photo of my neighborhood lake. Then, I paint the scene in my studio, using the photo as a reference.

I've completed views 1 & 2, but have gotten a few weeks behind on the paintings. Photos of views 3 & 4 are still waiting to be started! I will continue taking my weekly photos and I hope to eventually get to all 10 views. The 10 paintings will portray the transition from the beginning to the end of Spring.

I've been working on my Jerome Project Grant since last summer. Now, in 4 short weeks, the exhibition of my work will be opening! This grant has been a journey: challenging, joyful, confusing, boundary pushing. I feel that it has really gotten me to grow creatively and I am grateful that I had the opportunity to do so with this grant!

The exhibition, entitled ORIENT, DISORIENT, REPEAT, opens May 23. My work, along with two other grantees, will be on display at Textile Center's Mondale Gallery through the end of July. Find more event information here.

Good news! You'll be able to shop my collection of textile handbags + accessories at Textile Center's gift shop during the exhibition. I'm not doing many shows this year, so this is one of just a few opportunities to purchase my work!

I am continuing to love love painting with pastels! Here are some of my recently completed works. You can find more in my portfolio. I've discovered that commissions are one of my favorite things to do! Contact me if you have something in mind.

Thanks for reading!

I broke things.

It didn't seem like something I'd do. But it felt right.

Since late summer I've been experimenting. Drawing and painting, trying new things, and reveling in the freedom of it all. I've felt this amazing ability to let go of the guilt one usually gets when not doing what one is "supposed to be doing".

I’ve felt taken over by creativity, and I’ve allowed myself to let it happen. It's been a gift.

But, I've got responsibilities, timelines, goals, and a Fiber Art Project Grant. The free-wheeling can’t continue indefinitely. Which, I'm not going to lie, has been a tough fact to face.

For a while I actually thought I would have to give up on my textile art. It was simply too hard to pull myself away from drawing and painting with pastels. That amazing feeling of flow that I’ve been experiencing when I draw and paint, has been a true siren call.

I reminded myself that it wouldn't be in my own best interest to not complete what I had set out to do. Also, did I really want to give back the $5,000 I received for the Project Grant? Did I really want to tell the wonderful people who awarded me that money that I was giving up?

No.

Not at all.

What I needed to do was pick up all the pieces I broke and figure out a new way to put them together. A way that would work for me now, in my new place.

The pieces:

• Jerome Project Fiber Grant
• Textile art
• Pastels: drawing and painting
• Making money
• Taking a break from making “products”
• Feeling free to be creative

I got serious and wrote down a daily routine for myself that would allow me to fit in all the parts.

Writing it down was the easy part. As I struggled to start my new routine, I realized something huge. The fiber work was feeling really hard. Not because I didn’t like it anymore. No; but because in my mind it felt scary. Unlike when I created textile art in the past, this time the stakes are high: I have a Grant, an upcoming Exhibition, and Very Important People to please and impress.

The pastel work, on the other hand, is just for me. It has an experimental feeling and there are no stakes.

Ah-ha!

I realized that I needed to take the pressure off my textile work. I didn't want to get started on it again because it felt so risky and I was having a fear of failure. So, using what I learned from my research on creativity – in fact, exactly what got me started on pastels – I decided to re-frame things in my head.

I told myself, the next textile piece I made would be a warm-up. Like when you’re learning a new card game and the first round you play is just to get the rules figured out. No pressure; just explore. Plus, you know that Picasso quote: “Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working.” I needed to get to work.

And what do you know. For two weeks now, I’ve had my new routine working. That first week, I created a piece of textile art that I don’t know how I feel about. It’s not so great – but who cares, it was only for practice. The real point of that piece was that it helped me get into the new routine.

I’ve started to realize these seemingly disparate undertakings are all part of my year-long Jerome Project Grant. All of it: researching creativity, breaking my routine, experiencing the freedom of the pastel work, the challenge of getting back to textile work, discovering the necessity of a new routine.

Actually, sorting out all of this has accomplished exactly what I wanted when I originally wrote my grant proposal last May:

I’ve gone through all of this to discover my new studio art practice. Wow.

I'm starting to settle into my new routine. It includes both textile art and pastel painting. Things are flowing easier. I’m feeling inspired by both mediums. In fact, every day I feel like pinching myself because I can hardly believe I got what I wished for: a studio art practice.

It feels good.