We recently connected with Bethany Mabee and have shared our conversation below.

Bethany, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.

I grew up feeling like a “good” artist because I could take an object and depict it realistically. My parents persuaded me to major in Graphic Design because it would lead to a “real job” that a fine art major couldn’t. But Graphic Design only enforced the technical and controlled side of me that I had such an urge to explore myself out of.

It wasn’t until after college that I allowed myself to play with abstract work. I’ve always been obsessed with home magazines so I was constantly ripping out pages of rooms that had abstract works that caught my eye. So my first few years of experimenting had an element of copying to them. I rationalized it as “inspiration”, but I wasn’t really creating my own work, I was replicating others. But in looking back, I think this was a valuable time for me. It allowed me to focus more on the process of getting acquainted with the materials. I needed that first technical step before I could incorporate the next layer. The layer of completely letting go, which is something that is essential to my process now.

I remained in this copy cat mode for a few years until I decided to rent a studio space. A studio felt like a forced dedication that I needed to really figure myself out -and maybe also a way for me to attempt to claim the title of being an artist. There was something legit about having a studio – and I needed that self imposed sense of legitimacy to trust that this was something worth putting time and money into.

Having the dedicated studio space away from home did wonders for me. It was finally a place where I could completely play and get messy without the constraints of preserving the floors at home! I had gained trust in how to use the materials, which allowed me to shut the outside world out more. I stopped needing images of others’ work to inspire me and instead starting seeing the value of just showing up and letting what comes through come through.

I’m sure there are things that I could have done to speed my learning process up, but I don’t think I would have wanted to. Speeding through can take you out of the trial and error mode that allows for a personal process to naturally unfold. Watching things unfold slowly over time has been the most thrilling part for me.

Bethany, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m a visual artist with branches of offerings that have sprung from my work as an abstract painter.

I wasn’t always an abstract painter. I grew up taking art classes and learning the classic drawing techniques that makes one a “good artist”. I was convinced that I couldn’t be successful unless I showed technical skill. I majored in Graphic Design because it seemed more sensible, but hated every moment of it! Continuing on the theme of being sensible, I followed the breadcrumbs of opportunity after college that provided work and a focus on career. I’m fortunate for the opportunities that came my way and what stepping stones they became for where I am now. I stumbled into a job as a customs production manager at a textile manufacturer in Chicago, which led to a role as a furniture procurement director at an Architecture Firm. These were logistical roles within creative industries, but perfect for allowing me to fulfill that side of myself that loves to complete a left-brained task, while being emerged in the creativity of others.

Throughout my years of the 9-5 jobs, I explored my own art secretively at home. A way for me to scratch the unnerving itch that I had to create. I had little experience with the abstract process, but I allowed myself the closed off time to play with the materials. In time, I slowly started sharing my work and was lucky to get a lot of encouragement from co-workers when they learned that I also painted. I was naturally forced out of the office in 2009 with the big round of lay offs that went on at that time. I was able to continue my work in procurement from home as a consultant (and still do). This gave me the stability that I craved, but it offered far more flexibility in how I spent my time. I decided to rent a studio space to force more dedication onto myself, which was the best decision I could have made. Since then, I’ve been watching my work gradually unfold before me. That doesn’t mean that it’s always come easy or that it’s had a clear path of growth. But one thing that painting has always offered is a way for me to hear my own whims and explore my curiosities. I can pinpoint the times where I’ve forced my work onto a path that I assumed it needed to go vs the times where I just relaxed into the process without obsession of the outcome.

The more practice that I have with this letting go, the more I’m able to listen to my own ideas. The difficult part is exploring those ideas! In the moment they can seem disconnected, pointless, too expensive, out of my wheel house….etc…etc…etc… But again, time has shown me that if I just follow those, they will lead to something and be more connected than I could have realized. Examples of this trace back to my first abstract painting in my early twenties to my current process/offerings in my mid forties. It really wasn’t until these last few years that I finally saw the beautiful connection that all of my “random” ideas have had over the years. Something as simple as my desire to incorporate circles into that first painting….to those circles now being the basis of my process. Circles have been my breadcrumbs along the way. They started as an object of familiarity that I decided to use in my early work….and then became the source of so much symbolism and self-study. Over the years as I’ve explored new ideas, the circle seems to remain….and as I span out now all these years later, I see that I was naturally building a process in the studio that was centered around cycles. So what seemed like a random and pointless object, has turned out to be my own personal compass! And ideas that seemed random at the time, were actually points in this cyclical process that I was meant to discover.

The most random idea was my desire to create textiles from my paintings. It was something I stumbled on accidentally as the result of a conversation with a stranger on an airplane. But it sparked new experimentation; I was already scanning my paintings for high-res record shots. So why not crop tiny areas out of these high-res files and see what kind of patterns they can become. I now have a fabric and wallpaper line that is offered to the design trade – a perfect compliment of the world I gained so experience from working in.

My textiles are acting as a new source of experimentation now; I have a lot of fabric memo scraps around the studio…and had a random whim to cut into them one day. Following their lines with a pair of scissors to extract an object within the pattern was nothing more than a method of cathartic procrastination at the time. But that random whim has added a new layer of collage to my offerings, which has been such a fun process that I never expected to incorporate.

When my attention got pulled into collage, it caused me to come up with a warm up exercise to greet a blank canvas with once I was ready to transition back into painting. I started making quick works on paper as a way to reacquaint myself with the paint. These exercises quickly became my new obsession, offering an in-the-moment immediate sense of gratification, without the concern of the larger composition that I painting requires. I eventually decided to refine these enough to make them their own offerings outside of my paintings, textiles and collage work.

Without meaning to I’ve given myself various modes of creating that allow the various modes of myself to be expressed:

* My works on paper allow me to be immersed in something completely improvisational
* My paintings allow the same, but with an added layer of intentionality by applying solid geometric shapes on top of these fluid markings. A fun way to explore contrast.
* My textiles allow me to look at a completed painting in a new way. To pick it apart to see what areas could be pulled out to digitally turn into patterns. A more systematic process that my brain also craves. I also love that this process injects me into the world of interior design that I’ve worked within and have loved for so many years.
* My collages allow me to use any “unwanted” scraps from the processes above – and rearrange them into something that is pleasing. I’ve always loved rearranging. Anytime something has overwhelmed me, even as a kid, I would take to rearranging furniture/objects. Tangibly moving things around offers a release or movement of energy that seems needed before I can move on to whatever I’m procrastinating to address. Collage work seems to offer the same – a palette cleanser before I return to painting where I’m asked to be a conduit rather than a conductor.

Spanning out even further; this cyclical blueprint that has provided growth in the studio, is the same cyclical process that has offered growth in my personal life. Observing and studying my own emotional + mental cycles over the years has allowed me to detect my own patterns. It’s been a tool to understanding myself and others more….a way to cope with the unpredictability of being human….a way to find balance between force and letting go….knowing and not knowing. A way to mirror myself and my process to nature and its cycles….and a way to feel more connected to the whole. What I see now that I didn’t see before – is that I didn’t need to figure out what I was “saying” through my art. I just needed to show up to explore and observe. Whatever needs to be found or expressed will eventually make its way to the surface.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn is that we don’t have to choose between the contradicting parts of ourselves. My career outside of making art (procurement management) was and still is just as fulfilling in its own ways as my time in the studio. But I spent years thinking that I had to pick one over the other. That I couldn’t claim the title of a working artist, if I was also working.

I’ve had conversations with other artists where it’s been alluded that I’m maybe not being brave enough. That I’m too scared to let go of my consulting work because I don’t trust that I could live solely on my art. I believed this story about myself for a long time, which led to me feeling confused and bitter about doing both. Confused by which part of myself I wanted to pursue – and bitter towards those that didn’t “have” to face this difficult decision.

I personally have a strong split between my desire for order/systems and my desire for more intuitive creative play. I feel lucky to be able to explore them both now….but this sense of ease in doing both was not easily found. It took years of me shifting my focus back and forth between the two. When I became a mother, this added yet another pull into the mix of where my focus should be. I was lucky enough to be in a position to dabble between the three (mother, work, artist) when the kids were little….home with them all day, consulting work during naps, painting at night while they were in bed. Once they were in school all day, I had a new found sense of freedom in how I could spend my time, without any real monetary pressure of which one I should choose between. And even then, I was still torn because I enjoyed them both. But everything changed when I went through a divorce 6 years ago. Suddenly, art felt like a luxury and my consulting business felt like a necessity. I pulled out all the stops to grow that business back up – and it grew, quickly. I spent 3-4 years immersed in growing my business while my art had to take the back seat. All the while, there was still a decision in the back of my mind that I felt I had to address – continue building your consulting business up or leave all of its potential behind and put all of your faith into your art business, something that also showed great promise, but with less predictability.

I’m glad that there was never a clear answer because it kept me from deciding between one or the other. I personally needed to hit the wall of work burn out to see who I was without art. It didn’t matter how successful I was at work, life felt pointless without using my creativity. It forced me to reevaluate how I spent my time and to create a better balance between the two.

There are days where I want to be in front of a computer managing spreadsheets on the whereabouts of furniture which my consulting work requires…..and there are days where I want to be covered in paint and connected to another world in my studio. Experiencing the tension of who I am at work vs who I am in the studio is a playground of lessons for me. I think that we each have our own unique way of pulling the most out of ourselves creatively. And for some of us, that’s not constant immersion in the creative act itself. For some of us, it’s stepping away from it to see who we are without it….and stepping back into to experience the potential of who when we’re in it.

Whether you work another job outside of your creative endeavors or whether your creative endeavor calls for a more work-minded part of you to come out to manage all aspects of the business…..I think that we’re all allowed and capable of being good at both. And I think that being an artist requires that you are. It’s unrealistic to assume that being an artist or anything creative for that matter – calls for you to be creative all the time. Not only are their other demands of the business, but there are other demands of what we each need as an individual. I personally think that it’s invaluable to experience the contrasts of work vs play. I think that those experiences make the messy creative parts so much more special…..and it makes you better and setting parts of yourself aside for a moment, rather than casting them away forever. Juggling my working self and my artist self has given me far more practice in that than I would have had otherwise. And because of this, they each get to inform and support one another rather than compete.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

For me, the most rewarding aspect of being an artist is the act of creating something new. Even if something is inspired by someone else or has remnants of something previously done, it is still created through my own lens at that moment. It’s a visual record of time that has the potential to be interpreted and reinterpreted over and over again.

I love knowing that my work will outlive me. Even if it’s only enjoyed by those closest to me when I’m gone, it’s still a part of me that gets to live on and find new meaning with someone else. I think that we all have a desire to leave our mark in some way. To me, there’s something freeing about using creativity of any kind to do that with. It doesn’t feel as tied to right or wrong, good or bad. It’s simply evidence that you were really attempting to engage with life at its fullest while you were here.

Contact Info:

• Website: bethanymabeeart.com
• Instagram: @bethanymabeeart

Image Credits
Shelby Deeter Photography