The Only Thing I Want to Win At Is Art
Projekt Rattloch + Hybrid - We are a product of our environment
If you’re new here, I’m SLART an outsider artist, documenting my art journey whilst navigating full-corporate bullshittery work.
Over the past couple of months, I have been applying for remote and hybrid job roles, as my current role is 5 days a week in the office. This is the first part of my lifestyle change, as well as working in a new studio and evolving my art practice.
The tally now is, 5 jobs with more than 1 interview, all turned out as rejections, but there’s still a few opportunities hovering about and I should have interviews next week. I must have applied to well over 80 jobs in total.
So this week, I have decided to delete the Substack app and I am not writing any Substack “capital N” Notes for a long while.
We are a product of our environment. In other words, we are a product of what we observe, experience, say, listen to and imbibe.
For the past few weeks, probably longer, I have been getting royally frigged off with posts that tell you how to win at Substack. The only thing I want to win at is art.
The more I come across posts that offer advice, the more I feel inclined to act on that advice, and the more likely I am to waste a lot of time in the process.
If you comment on this post, I probably will not reply to it for a while. Nothing personal. I just need to get out of the platform mind suck and focus on my new art space, which I think is going to be life changing.
Time is so precious. We forget how much so. It is not just the wasting of time itself. It is the frivolity of our relationship with time. It is the way these platforms take away the precious headspace we all crave. It’s the frazzled feeling we get when we feel like there’s not enough hours in the day.
I cannot be consumed with how-to Substack posts any longer. I cannot be consumed with advice, tactics, hacks, platform etiquette, note strategies, growth loops, optimisation threads, or any other digital breadcrumb trail that takes me away from the actual thing I love.
I am quitting the platform noise.
So for now, I will share my words with you from my laptop, slowly and carefully, probably written while at my day job, or while sitting somewhere that reminds me why my art and writing matters. Maybe one day, my daughter will read my posts and get to see another side of her old man.
Every now and again, I think I need to see flowing water in my life.
My mind has been so busy for so long. I am tired. Properly tired.
I am sitting on a sofa in my new studio right now, looking out of the window. I can see gravel, rocks, grass and trees. Beyond that, there is a lagoon. The water is moving from left to right. There is a pagoda in the distance as well.
The movement of the water is calming me down.
We have had this new studio for about three weeks now and are still setting it up. Still moving things in. Still working out what it is, what it can become, and how to use it properly. I do not think I have really had time to appreciate what a gift it is yet.
I want this place to become a genuine working space. A place where I spend far more time painting larger works, testing ideas and making things that might go nowhere, for me.
Last week I was talking about Robert Irwin.
I have been listening to Robert Irwin, reading about his work, and thinking about him a lot. I keep accidentally saying Robert Irving, but I mean Robert Irwin.
What has pulled me in is not just the work itself, but the way it seems to investigate perception, space, atmosphere and the experience of being somewhere.
And that has got something moving in me.
I have this questions in my head:
What would a peaceful individual space look like?
What would a small calming space feel like?
What would it feel like to be inside a rhubarb and custard sweet?
What kind of space could actually transform your mood into something closer to serenity?
I do not want to become a chair designer. That is not the point. This is not furniture design. It is not interior design.
You get designers who design chairs. Those chairs are comfortable and they might go in certain spaces. But my idea is not just a thing that sits inside a space. My idea is the individual space itself.
A small individual space. A seat inside it. Lighting. Smells. Colour. Privacy. A contained atmosphere. Something that has a calming effect, or maybe not.
Maybe it comes from the same part of me that likes the idea of sleep pods. Apparently Google has sleep pods, whether that is true or not. What interests me is not the corporate part, but the idea of an individual space where a person can rest, and maybe just be. And by jove, we need that now more than ever.
I am a big proponent of power naps, even though they are not exactly encouraged at my day job.
It would not be a glossy bit of office furniture. It would be more expressive. Rudimentary. Non-commercial. Individual.
An experiential piece.
Now that I have the bigger art space, the studio space, I actually have room to explore this properly. The starting point is simple. Make it as light as possible so it can be transported, and make sure it has a comfortable seat inside it.
The first step is probably just to build the box. Make the structure first, then work out what goes inside it. Maybe it has a canvas outer layer that I can paint onto. Maybe it uses translucent material. Maybe it uses fabric. Maybe it uses something I have not thought about yet.
The studio itself has big windows and lots of light, so maybe the best place to begin is with that light. The light can be filtered through something private, so you cannot see the person in there, but coloured light can still come in.
This interests me, excites me!
A space that protects you, but does not shut the world out completely.
The documentation part is important too. I am not a man of science. I am not that way inclined. But I am excited by the process of documenting the experiments. Notes, sketches, photographs, voice memos, mistakes, tests and half-formed thoughts can all become part of the work.
This post is part of that documentation.
A record of the idea the thought process, I don’t often do that, but it’s all part of the art.
Maybe that is also why I needed to delete the Substack app.
Because this needs my headspace.
Right now, the water is still moving from left to right outside. The pagoda is still in the distance. My mind is less busy than when I began. And the questions are sitting with me in the studio.
What would a small calming space feel like?
And could I make one? Fuck yeH!
Could I build a space that gives someone, even for a few minutes, the feeling the flowing water is giving me now?
Now, the space itself…
Presenting to you, Studio Brut.
Studio Brut is coming very soon. Lot of gorgeous natural light and lots of space.
It’s an outsider art collaboration, a new studio, a fresh start for both of us. They’ll be exhibitions, residencies and other events coming up very soon, watch this space.
Connect with us in Instagram if you’re on there.
You can also read more from my partner in crime on this project, Harrie Dearing, on her blog.
A huge shoutout to Swindon Culture Collective and Hypha Studios for your support.
Bye for now,
SLART