I've been writing lullabies...
'Throw your heart out in front of you then run ahead to catch it”
'Throw your heart out in front of you then run ahead to catch it”
One of the most wonderful things about undertaking an artistic journey in such an open and publicly vulnerable way is that, over time, it has helped me connect with the most spectacular array of deeply thoughtful people, quite often those who feel that call of the creative path themselves and are making things too. I live in the middle of nowhere and don’t get out much, so this feels extra special. It very often starts with a wee exchange in the DMs, and sometimes it becomes much more. (I’ll tell you about a few of these in a moment).
For almost fifteen years now, I’ve been making things like photography, words, illustrations, stories, community and wee bits of music here and there. I’m extraordinarily lucky to call some of this the ‘day job’, but the true goal of it all today is the same as it was on the first day I posted a very amateur drawing on social media and said ‘I’m going to try and make something every day’, and that was simply to commit to nurturing my soul and to understanding the world as deeply and widely as possible, through an artistic lens. I just want to know what it means to be fully alive and awake, to be able to feel things fully, to maybe even explore things outside of our visibility; the mysteries of life. Part of me hopes that if more of us do this, the world will also be a nicer place, more filled with creators than consumers.
As I write this now, I am simultaneously talking with one such thoughtful friend, who sent me the quote above, about just taking the leaps of faith and then running with all the passion we can muster. We had been discussing my trepidation at getting back out into the world a bit more and accepting opportunities for this year that are utterly amazing but socially intimidating too. Sometimes getting what we wish for still requires a degree of bravery to step into it and I’m so grateful for people who are there to nudge me from behind before I freeze up again!
Sometimes, ‘throwing your heart out in front of you’ is a matter for the inner landscape, something that you can do without going anywhere. As a painter, I’ve been gradually gaining a bit of confidence at sticking with the process, even when it hurts, and I’ve been blessed with the most wonderful mentors in that area. Last year in particular, I struggled endlessly on a project and was so fortunate to have an art director with the emotional fortitude to sit in the discomfort with me, ‘holding the open heart’ and helping me hold my nerve (or listening to me cry, at least).
In other art forms, I am still as helplessly amateur and vulnerable as the next person, but one benefit of having come through the other side of a lot of loss is that I no longer care about the hang-ups. Life is too short and I intended to be a giddily joyful amateur for what remains of it.
To that end, I tentatively started acknowledging to myself last year that I miss making music, especially the in-person nature of it. Like many people, I have an “I used to” statement. We say things like ‘I used to paint. I used to dance. I used to sing’. It stings a little, doesn’t it? We don’t always know when or why we stopped. We feel the loss.
Last week, I mentioned that a friend’s music unlocked one such realisation for me; that I haven’t used my physical singing voice in a long time. I decided to sit with that uncomfortable truth and to get very quiet and still until the story of how I got here emerged. It hurt. However, thanks to my new levels of amateurish abandon, and also to my supportive and insightful friend sharing his process, I was able to take it one step further and to at least temporarily dispense with hang-ups to just try to ‘overflow and sing’ as he would say.
Now, my background in music is a bit varied but it has never really involved being a songwriter. However, I already know that I love poetry and that has already opened some amazing doors to musical collaborations; lovely experiences of other people using my words to create beautiful music. For this experiment though, it became important to me to at least try and sing these poetic thoughts as songs myself and so, from following my friend’s lead, I’ve been doing the equivalent of rough sketches and just singing bits and pieces into the voice notes app on my phone. Yesterday, I wrote a really simple wee love song or lullaby about my house while I was cleaning and repairing things, but it was really about my wishes for life between these walls, ideas of restoring the place while restoring myself, singing the whole thing back into dignity after loss.
It doesn’t really matter if the song was good or not, and I’m not yet brave enough to post these things in public, but what matters is that I managed for just a minute to access the ‘overflow’, to give myself what I needed that day just by singing to an empty house, to hear and feel the warmth of my own voice resonating near my heart and experience that also feeling like a sense of home. What a feeling, truly.
I’ve got many more things to say about this and also exciting plans in mind with my musical friends, but this is getting long so I’ll save that for later. Instead, let me introduce you to the work of a few friends I’ve made purely through sharing art and conversations on instagram. Maybe it will show you what is possible when you approach the world with a wee bit of openness, as it has done to me. I can’t include them all at once, so maybe I’ll make this a regular feature. There is so much treasure in other people…
Brooke Shaden
Brooke is one my earliest artistic friends. We think we met on Flickr as photographers but honestly it has been at least thirteen years, so neither of us remember.
This woman uses her art as a place to confront fear and mortality, often visiting realms I am still far too afraid to venture into. She makes it her daily early morning practice to transmute grief into beauty. She exhibits a level of resilience and discipline greater than probably anyone I’ve ever met and is simultaneously brilliant and humble.
Her ten-year endeavour to create a meeting place for other seekers and wanderers in her ‘Promoting Passion’ convention has saved lives, and I feel so privileged we have shared deeps chats across continents, wandered the desert and watched actual spaceships take off over our heads together at her events. I look forward to being together again in Indiana this year to celebrate her ten year success.
She eludes neat categories, having been photographer, film maker, teacher, painter, foster mother and, more recently, novelist. To my mind, there is nothing she cannot do if she decides to. So many people have a life-giving Brooke story, and I am merely one. Find her work here: https://brookeshaden.com
Sandy Kilpatrick
I connected with Scottish singer Sandy only a few months ago (because he had seen the album cover that I painted for Mary Chapin Carpenter, Julie Fowlis and Karine Polwart) but he has been so generous about sharing his process and I’ve loved being able to ask someone all about the inner workings of their craft. So many amazing dialogues about voice-finding and so many parallels with painting. I even went to his gig near me and met several other wonderful new people there too. He’s got a new single out in March called ‘The Spark’. (I’ve heard it and it’s marvellous) and you’ll be able to find it on all the streaming services. Here’s his instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sandykilpatrick/
Hojjat Zeinali
Hojjat is a gifted puppeteer and theatre-maker for young audiences based in Tabriz, Iran. He specialises in making modern puppet shows based on traditional Ashik Azerbaijani storytelling culture, and he makes them in a way that feels very much like picture books to me. We became friends though instagram last year when my drawing of someone holding a cloud started a great creative conversation, and it turned into a skill-exchange of sorts, talking about ideas of how to work with children and families and how to create effective picture books. If you saw my storytelling theatre space project before Christmas, many of those ideas were inspired by Hojjat’s work. I look forward to owning his picture books one day. The fact this exchange could even take place across distance, language and culture is amazing to me. I also just find it so helpful to have a very real sense that there are good people literally everywhere trying to make good things happen in every kind of environment. You can find Hojjat here (and if you’re someone looking to offer a residency to a theatre-maker, you couldn’t go wrong). https://www.instagram.com/zeinali.hojjat/
ps. This illustration is something I like to do often, doodling other artists to remember these moments in time
Sahba Aminikia and Pinar Dimaral
Through knowing Hojjat, I also got to know Iranian-American composer and TED fellow, Sahba Aminikia, and Turkish social entrepreneur and circus expert, Pinar Demiral.
Pinar runs a social circus skills school called Sirkhane in Mardin, Türkiye, near the border of Syria, serving displaced children with a chance to access some fun and joy and community. Together, both of these artists run The Flying Carpet Festival, an annual mobile performing arts festival for displaced children which attracts performers from around 40 countries around the world each year. I cannot explain the overwhelming joy I felt when I first discovered them, which is why I’m volunteering on helping the festival a bit this year. Again, this feeling of knowing that there are light-spreaders in every corner is a powerful one.
Ellie Holcomb
One of the written verses I posted on instagram began ‘Hello across the darkness, friend…’ and I received a DM from Ellie, a Nashville-based singer and songwriter, saying “I hope you don’t mind, but I instantly thought of a melody when I read your words, may I send it to you?”. Let me tell you, the voice note that followed was one of the most gorgeous things I’ve heard. We’re working slowly on something together and will eventually be able to share the song within that. The creativity is lovely, but I also just really value having gotten to know such a warm and thoughtful woman, to say ‘hello across all this darkness’, to remind one another to hold onto the light. And we’re going to meet in Nashville soon- what an insane thing to be writing!
India Arie
Many people already know
-she’s a musical legend- but I was so heartened to hear from her also through instagram DMs, thanks to someone sending her this painting that she inspired. What followed was the most human of exchanges across the last year about how we sometimes ‘begin again’, reorient ourselves, cast off the old and seek the new. To hear a voice from such a height echo the experiences and thoughts that basically most creatives have has been quite special…and I just shipped this art to her place this morning. You just never, never know in life until you throw your heart out in front of you and run to catch it!p.s. She’s right here on Substack now too!
And finally…
If you’re around Alnwick next weekend, you might like to come to this workshop at Alnwick Story Festival. I’ll have my Hidden Story colleagues with me for puppet show fun!
Also, delighted to be announced as one of 17 inaugural Durham Creative Community Fellows with the world-class Bowes Museum. Really excited for this enriching process with such great people.
Finally, delighted to say I have another book out in a few weeks time, with Harper Collins and debut author Ashlee Hashmann, available wherever you get your books. It has been quite the adventure to be drawing things knowing that NASA are checking it for accuracy, but there’s also something kind of spectacular about imagining sunsets on other planets, and I even sneaked in a horsehead nebula as a nod to Dundee-born astronomer and cataloguer of stars, Williamina Fleming.
Much love,
Gill
Beautiful and lovely to share other artists work. I’d sure love to hear you sing!
Oh, I love all of this, in so many ways! ❤️