We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Arden Starling. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Arden below.
Arden , thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Do you wish you had started sooner?
I’ve been a lifelong artist, so it’s difficult to imagine starting any earlier! As a kid I had a knack for storytelling and spent a lot of my time writing and illustrating my own books, designing costumes, and recording puppet plays and skits on a tripod with one of those tragically ’80s camcorders. I was even president of the Art Club in High School, so it was no surprise to anyone when I headed off to art school.
As far as believing in myself and my creativity—I do wish I had “started earlier.” I earned my B.F.A. almost 20 years ago, but the majority of my time was spent immersing myself in commercial creative work. I used my artistic talent almost exclusively for my paycheck. I’ve worked in many disciplines under the “design” umbrella over the years: graphic design at magazines, footwear design, surface, and textiles; even product development for home decor and furniture. I was afforded opportunities to travel the world, and glean inspiration from the corporate side of creativity.
After hitting a proverbial “wall” of burnout, in 2019 I finally took a chance on myself and started cultivating a daily art practice again. I was very rusty, because I just hadn’t been consistent with the art process over the years. When I was first starting up again, I felt like I had robbed myself of decades of practice. Artists I had known in my early twenties were now well-established professionals. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a sense of lost time.
Would I change anything? I’d have to keep things the same! For starters, I met wonderful people, including my husband, through work. I also have a lot of everyday skills that I learned professionally —like designing for web, photo editing, social media management that inform the daily maintenance of my art business. The confidence I’ve cultivated from my “time away from art” has informed my art practice in impactful ways.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
I got back into making art at 36, at a time when I was very lost spiritually. I had suffered a career setback that soured my view of the corporate creative world. As a palate cleanser, the first big project I worked on as a “full-time artist” was illustrating a children’s book. As I went through the process of creating art for the book, I was frustrated with how unpolished my skills were, but I kept going.
What is popularly called “shadow work” in esoteric circles is exactly how I approached my art practice. As I gained creative confidence, other areas of my life began to improve as well. By cultivating a daily art practice, my skills (and my mood) improved. Soon I was back at my college-level baseline of technical skills. Then I leveled up again, then again. I had to unlearn a lot of limiting beliefs that I had picked up from teachers, clients, and creative directors over the years. I had to rely on my own tastes and preferences again after years of solving creative problems in a corporate context.
The work that I produce today comes from a very personal place of self-reflection. I am deeply interested in universal myths, archetypes, and the human experience. I view creativity as a channeled force that can move through anyone and alchemize as a source of great healing. The symbology I often use like the rabbit, spirals, or eyes, come from an inclusive mythical place that resonates on a primitive level. My creativity comes from the same cosmic well that everyone has access to, and I want to share that with as many people as I can.
Many people include my silk scarves in their personal spiritual practices; for example: to hold tarot decks or as an altar cloth. My personal belief system is best described as pantheistic, which leaves a lot of room for exploring many worldviews. I’m honored to provide these personal tools for people. When someone hangs my artwork in their home it is extremely personal. My customers can sense the sensitivity and authenticity in my work, and find comfort in the visual energy I’m putting out into the world.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
In my past life as a product developer for big box stores, the veil was pulled back on the manufacturing and commodification of art. The amount of time I’ve spent in China overseeing production has amounted to months. I’ve seen a lot of products roll down the assembly line. I’ve witnessed cheap decor being “hand-painted” by factory workers whose repetitive job is adding the same swoosh of thick acrylic paint to the same pre-printed canvas design. I’m not sure where people think these products come from, but it seems like society is very ignorant of the supply chains they rely on. I wish people could see how powerful and life-changing their spending could be. Buying $50 worth of generic decorations from a big-box store only makes billionaires richer, but buying $50 worth of products from a small artist could mean the world to someone. I will say it until I’m blue in the face — shop small!
Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?
Non-creatives not understanding artists is a tale as old as time. I often meet people who can’t understand how (or why) I made the leap from a cushy office job to doodling for a living. Artists, of all kinds, have a unique problem where identity and vocation intertwine. A factory manager or an accountant might not define their personalities by their 9—5 work, but for creatives, it’s different. It’s difficult to articulate unless you’ve felt the gnawing desire to strike out on your own. The torment of knowing you’re very capable, yet working on projects you aren’t passionate about is a special kind of hell. It’s not simply a stereotype that artists are in their own heads and sensitive. We need to create! At some point, you have to accept that you might fail. Personally, I’d rather fail at something I love to do than never try at all.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.ardenstarling.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/arden.starling
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ArdenStarlingCo
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/ArdenStarling
- Other: Tiktok: ArdenStarling