We were lucky to catch up with Shannon Mack recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Shannon thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.

There are many different ways to look at risk. Risk can be calculated or reckless. It can be intuitive or reactive. As I am writing this, I am reminded of the ways in which I do and don’t take risks in my daily life. Those moments where I want to say something and don’t and feel the twinge of, “that’s not something I would do.” Or, the opposite, when I act or initiate “out of character,” and I feel a sense of opening within myself…like “what else is in there?” I think this applies to life on a larger scale too. The biggest risk that I am deeply afraid of taking is the risk of not taking risks. I’ve always loved Anais Nin’s quote, “life shrinks and expands in proportion to one’s courage.” I feel this in a very literal sense. I start to feel my world and sense of self shrink when I am not actively taking risks.

I think risk is essential to art making, and one might argue that making art is a risk in and of itself- exposing oneself at the feet of the world with an offering that could ultimately be rejected. Yet, rejection is an essential playmate of risk. There would be no risk without the potential for everything to “go wrong”. This idea is what I have become increasingly interested in. What would it actually look like for everything to go wrong? Is there such a thing as failure? I don’t think so. I think there are places that we can all inhabit where we accept rejection as an end instead of a beginning. This is not failure, only a lack of perspective. We gain perspective only through persevering in the midst of what may feel like continuous rejection, until it doesn’t feel so personal anymore. How boring would it be if we always got what we wanted? We can be defeated or let life sharpen our iron.

There seems to be a chasm between the art that we would like to make and the surrender of expectation that it will take to create such works. In my experience, surrender and risk masquerade as one another. I think choosing to release control is a small risk, yet many of us artists hold our work to be so precious. What if nothing is precious and who we are bringing forward in the process of making art is the real art? Are we willing to risk not being this person?

A small risk I took recently was veering away from my day job as a designer and taking up full-time manual labor as a seasonal gardener. This may not seem like a risk for some people, but I felt deeply nervous to be making less money, and doing something that I know nothing about. I felt that I could be betraying my education and the years I’ve invested into a design career. However, there is this trait in me that loves to play devil’s advocate. There are no rules. I think we all know this on a fundamental level, but how often do we act like there are no rules? By rules, I’m referring to the rules that we make for ourselves. Whose rules are we living by?

This idea sounded like a refreshing change of pace, and because of it I had to get creative with other ways of paying my bills, art-wise. I was introduced to a new way of existing at work. Using my body in the sun, rain, heat and cold. I have experienced a level of exhaustion that is soul shaking this summer, working full-time manual labor as well as teaching, painting a mural and planning a three month-long summer event series. This is not meant to be a boast or complaint, but to share that I don’t have it figured out. I certainly do not strive to be busy, just moving in a direction that feels natural. On some days, I lose track of why I’m doing all of this. I didn’t understand until recently that I have been literally sowing the seeds in my life for new growth, tending to and caring for greenery all season long. My job title was literally “seasonal”, which granted me a certain freedom I haven’t felt when it comes to work before. It also gave me a new respect and fondness for maintenance. We as a culture are so obsessed with progress and novelty (myself included), yet neither of which would be possible without the patient hands maintaining the world that allows us to be here. What seemed like a small risk has opened up my world and restored a lot of hope in people after a painful lay off from my last design job. Many kind, humble, relaxed souls garden and care for plants. I never knew I would have so much inspiration for painting by trying something different, and this was not even the goal. To take risks is to be alive – to be willing to accept the possibility of total annihilation and rebirth. I hope that I never forget this.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am a painter and muralist, but it took me most of my life to actually center my life around the things I love to do. It has always felt more natural for me to relate with the world in a visual language. I studied illustration in a fairly photorealistic sense in college, but have since deviated quite a bit in what feels right for me to create. Now, when I paint, it is much more child-like, but with the experience and intuition to be deliberate. However, as with most paths, it took me quite some time to feel like I could really allow myself to explore.

I don’t view what I do as solving problems, but rather creating the spaciousness for my being to fully exist in a material world, while perhaps creating space for others to do the same. I truly marvel at the beauty that exists within and without, and desire to spread it in every direction. In deep beauty, I think also lies truth, and it is incredibly important for me to be truthful with myself. The dance seems to be continually discovering this suspended space where intentional action transforms into subconscious movement, which to me is where the unseen world pours out. This feels like some version of truth – a reality where nothing is finite and anything could happen. Each moment is iterative and builds upon itself. If I create something, I may not totally love it for a few hours until I get past my mental bouncer, start loosening the grip of control, and experience some level of catharsis. It feels like I’m draining my brain to make way for something that lies beyond.

I am most proud of recognizing when I feel defeated or full of doubt and not letting that take over the work that I create. I experience doubt and groundlessness often, but I am beginning to observe these waves for what they are, waves. To be able to allow myself to create even in spells where I might rather let my mind win has been an artistic process within itself. I am proud of learning to surrender and persist with gratitude. I get to have hands to hold a paintbrush and freewill (supposedly) to manipulate and push color around. I’m still figuring out how to balance it all and not burn out, but the idea that I am creating a life where self expression and inspiration flow freely seems worth it to me.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

First, view art as essential to our wellbeing as a society and as individuals. It still strikes me as mind-boggling some days that art is ever undervalued or considered an afterthought. It’s a miracle that any of us are here at all- that all the right conditions exist for us to breathe, and to not be burned up by a gaseous fire-y sphere one million miles away. To think that we are just here to perpetuate what is, solve problems and pay bills is to deny ourselves the momentous miracle of being alive. I’m not sure why we’re here, but the urge to celebrate the undetermined amount of time we have and feel the deep joys and unfathomable sorrows with every fiber of my being is relentless. While gut wrenching problems unfold at light speed, a rose blooms, someone lets their heart pour out over piano keys, and a baby is born. Holding this paradox with humbleness is where a great reverence for creating anything at all begins.

To not value art is to not value the natural process of life. As such, for those inclined to meditate on existence and create for a living, there must be support within our global economy for this pursuit. This life path benefits the individual that allows a reflection of the human condition to come forward through them, and in best-case-scenario, in-turn offers up what is invaluable; beauty and truth. Art created by one dedicated person can invigorate an entire culture to connect and engage with reality in a way that is more closely related to our unobstructed selves. Art is infinitely tied to humanity’s ability to endure all that has transpired and all that lies ahead. Yes, art is a luxury and it is essential. They are not mutually exclusive. If you are able, pay artists very well, they will not let you down.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

Having intentionally placed myself in unfamiliar environments, there is inevitable growth that happens. However, I haven’t begun to understand until recently how powerful awareness and presence is, within each and every environment I place myself in. Just to be aware of a thought that feels doubtful about my capabilities and inherent goodness creates a space for me to ask questions. “Where did this doubt come from?”, “do I actually believe this about myself, or am I just tired?”, “do I need to go for a run?” or “do I just need to accept what I’m feeling, be tender towards it, and validate my experience?” There are so many unfounded beliefs that the collective cultural psyche has adopted as truth. A recent thought that I’ve had to bring to the surface is that a “down day” will lead to a “down life”. As I’ve recognized this, I’ve started allowing myself to feel down, defeated or utterly hopeless by the pursuit of this life. Yet, I am still holding the understanding that being with it, breathing into it, and not feeding it is the kind of surrender that is required to carry-on.

Through becoming more attune to my own toxic beliefs and thoughts that arise throughout the day, I can allow them to exist, let them move through me and make space for clarity. Although, this process feels much harder on some days. When I have clarity, I can ask myself what I want to believe instead. First I admit to myself that I am feeling down and that this is part of processing all that we perceive. Then, I create a new belief that, “it is okay to embrace pain and truly feel what needs to be felt.” When I feel, I am consciously loosening and untying the knot of tension within. Maybe when we’re not so preoccupied with the fear of getting trapped inside of feeling something undesirable, the feeling has less of a hold on us and can’t stick around for long.

This leads me to self-trust, which I think is essential to endurance in the pursuit of an artistic life. Knowing that feelings have an open pathway to come and go through me means that they can come out spontaneously through a painting, drive me to seek inspiration, or clear the way for courage and clarity to be present for what wants to emerge next. I trust that I won’t be annihilated by myself and act as a channel.

Contact Info:

• Website: http://www.shannonmack.com/
• Instagram: shannon__mack

Image Credits
Gabrielle Mack Rachel Britton