You Don't Have to Find Your Style
Or pick a lane. Here's why.
I was talking to my friend Katie a few weeks ago and this question came up about finding your voice, finding your style, or just choosing a lane as an artist. At a certain point, shouldn’t you stop chasing after new techniques, new materials, and new ideas? Isn’t that distracting you from the real goal of uncovering your true voice or style?
No. My answer to that is very firmly no. Paint whatever you want. Draw however you like. Same goes for writing, music, whatever you do.
Why? Because the vast majority of us are amateur artists. And being an amateur artist is exactly like being a home cook.
Think about it: A home cook has to be basically competent at making a wide range of meals for breakfast, lunch, dinner. You can probably scramble eggs and make toast. You’ve got a couple pasta dishes in your repertoire. You can manage a soup and a salad, or some appetizers for a party, and you have an assortment of main courses that you and your family like to eat.
Why would you stick to just one thing? You can’t make pancakes forever. Sometimes you need to roast a cauliflower.
The same is true of art. I wouldn’t want to paint the same subjects in the same style every day, and I wouldn’t want to eat the same food every day. Mix it up! Expand your repertoire! You get tired of that quiche, take it out of rotation for a while. Find something else.
Professional cooks are a different story
If you’re a chef, you probably do need to niche down. Get good at something so you can get hired at a better wage to do that thing. Maybe you’re a pastry chef, or you specialize in Thai cuisine or barbeque or even the (still pretty narrow) range of a dozen or so entrees at a neighborhood bistro.
Likewise, if you’re a professional artist—if you’re looking to sell your art or get hired for illustration gigs or teach some classes—it probably is a good idea to find your niche and get known for it.
That doesn’t mean professional artists don’t know how to do all the other things. A sushi chef can still scramble eggs at home. But a professional is much more likely to choose a thing and mostly put that thing out in public for the sake of their career.
Many of the artists I adore and follow enthusiastically on Instagram are working in some capacity as professional artists. (I just opened my feed and here are the first three professional artists I saw who have very distinctive styles: Maru Godas, Elizabeth Lennie, Hiroki Kawanabe). Some, like the amazing George McCalman, work in a few different styles, but those styles tend to be quite purposeful and specific to his work as an artist and book designer.
So…are you comparing your amateur, hobbyist self to professional artists you admire? Remember, comparison is the thief of joy. You’d probably be perfectly happy with your freewheeling, polyamorous, big tent, all-of-the-above approach to art if not for a voice inside your head that is pointing to that thing over there and saying, “See? You’re here. You should be over there. Then you’d really be happy. Then you’d have everything you want.”
That feeling of restlessness, of dissatisfaction, of inadequacy? It won’t go away when you get over there. It will only go away when you learn to tune out the voice and go back to enjoying yourself, right where you are. Your restless, comparison-driven thinking is not telling you about the dissatisfaction, it’s actually causing the dissatisfaction.
(oh, and by the way, those professional artists with a very characteristic style? They’re all longing for the early days, when they were free to do whatever the hell they felt like. Live their dream!)
Listen to David Hockney
I’m reading Martin Gayford’s book Spring Cannot Be Cancelled: David Hockney in Normandy and it’s magnificent and filled with beautiful pictures and I love it.
Early on, Gayford tells us that Hockney has never been concerned about cultivating a signature style. When people tell him that his latest work doesn’t look like a Hockney, he says, “It will.”
What a badass! Only Hockney decides what looks like a Hockney. And you know what? He’s only 87! He’s not finished exploring his style. Why should you be?
Are you still not satisfied with this answer?
Okay, fair! Stay tuned for next week, when I’ll give the best advice I know about finding a style if you’re absolutely determined to pursue one anyway.
Supporters are joining me at the farmers market this week
We’re exploring the idea of being the artist-in-residence of a season right now, and that season (for most of us) is FALL! So I took my art supplies to the farmers market and drew a bunch of pumpkins and squash, and also this quick scene of all the tents under some gloriously autumnal trees. And I filmed it for you.
We also have a chat room (like a private Facebook group) where we can share what we’re working on, ask questions, and…you know…chat. You get all that, plus a robust archive of video art lessons, for the cost of a couple of pencils. Also, I’m always taking requests, so if there’s something you want to learn, we’ll do it. Join us!
Pssst—can I interest you in a painting?
We’re getting into gift-giving season, so maybe it’s a good time to mention that I have many small paintings for sale on my website. Perhaps someone you know has fond memories of Rome. This little one’s right here.
The Bit at the End
Order signed copies of my new book, The Tree Collectors, from Broadway Books here in Portland.
Come find me on Instagram, or see paintings for sale- Right here
Order signed copies of some of my books from my husband’s bookstore, or order my books and many books I love at Bookshop.org
Take one of my online writing or art classes here
Leave a comment! I love hearing from you!
This is so wonderful. A couple weeks ago I went on a creative retreat and we did printmaking and worked with inks in a way I never had before and I was kind of beating myself up about it thinking that I really need to focus on one area of art. At the same time the weekend brought so much joy and opened my eyes to a new way of seeing. On the drive back I had these same thoughts, why do I need to stick to one medium or style? Why can't I do pottery in the winter when it's cold and I feel like hunkering down in a warm studio and spend my summers sketching wild places outdoors in my sketchbook. Why can't one inspire the other? Especially since I'm not a professional artist selling my work, why does it even matter at all? Why not just do what feels good in the moment? So before I headed home I stopped at the art supply shop and bough myself some basic printmaking supplies!
I’ve just sent this to my art students to read. You can practically feel the tension of expectation when they sit down in class and I just want them to enjoy the feeling of mixing paint! Thanks for the wise well written piece. X