Courage to find your own artistic voice – especially now
April is rarely unambiguous – perhaps that’s why it’s the most honest month of the year. At least it doesn’t pretend to have everything under control. Between friendly, bright moments and rough, uncomfortable days, an interplay unfolds that is often closer to our own inner state than we would like.
Out without a jacket
I don’t move through this time in a straight line either. More like someone who leaves the house in April without a jacket – and regrets it five minutes later. There is uncertainty, doubt, the feeling of limited possibilities. And at the same time a quiet anticipation, new ideas, a sense that something could change.
The quiet tones
For me, the whole palette of pastel shades suits April. Colors that are easily overlooked. They already have everything in them, but are still reserved, almost permeable – like a hint of what may come without defining it.
Weather from the inside
I do not exist detached from the rhythm of nature. During these weeks, my inner experience is as erratic as the weather. It is reflected in it, sometimes almost too clearly. And yet there is an energy of its own in these ups and downs: a spirit of optimism that does not yet have a name, but can already be felt.
Perhaps that is precisely the quality of this month – that it doesn’t pretend to be anything.
And that it forces me to look for myself.
That’s not particularly convenient.
When nothing is certain
When nothing is certain, there is little to hold on to. Then something else begins: a closer look, a pause, a new sorting.
A lot seems to be in flux on the outside too. Certainties are crumbling, structures are showing cracks and even art is being questioned anew by ground-breaking technologies such as AI. Many things seem unstable, contradictory, sometimes even threatening – a bit like an April day that can’t decide whether it wants to be friendly or stormy.
And yet there is also a peculiar clarity in it.
Cracks in the familiar
What has long been hidden behind smooth surfaces becomes more visible. Spaces that previously seemed closed are opening up. It hasn’t necessarily become easier, but more permeable. And perhaps also more honest.
In artistic work in particular, this almost inevitably leads inwards.
Looking inwards
I realize how many compromises I have made. How often I have adapted in order to fit in. How naturally I have made myself smaller so as not to stand out.
For a long time, I took my cue from artists who conquered their place with great assertiveness. Stories in which it was almost a matter of course to put your own work above everything else. It is only with distance that I can see more clearly the price this often came at.
It was not uncommon for others to remain in the background – often women, who were referred to as “muses” and thus fell into roles that made their own work invisible. What sounded like closeness was often an imbalance.
These images have also shaped me. Maybe that’s why I believed for so long that I had to adapt.
I confused visibility with meaning.
And power with quality.
No longer fit in
Today, this seems less clear.
I am beginning to see that my work doesn’t have to fit into a predetermined grid in order to count. That what cannot be categorized is not automatically worth less – but perhaps just needs a different space.
Especially now, when many things are beginning to falter, this question arises anew: Why should I continue to withdraw just to fit in somewhere?
Perhaps it is more about adopting a different attitude.
One that is not based on conformity, but on clarity.
A new understanding of empathy
Empathy plays a bigger role than I wanted to admit for a long time. Not only with regard to others, but especially towards myself. The more precisely I perceive my own needs, the clearer my view of the outside world becomes.
That doesn’t mean approving of everything.
But it does change your perspective.
I am learning to set my boundaries more clearly and to take my own place. As existing power and abuse structures increasingly expose themselves, I realize how long I have taken certain views for granted.
These insights are not always pleasant.
But they provide clarity.
Your own voice
And from this clarity, something slowly emerges that I have held back for a long time: my own voice.
It doesn’t get louder by adapting.
But by stopping overlooking myself.
This is particularly evident in artistic work. A unique language is not created by adapting, but by allowing one’s own perspective – with all its discontinuities and uncertainties.
Simple answers are tempting.
They rarely go far enough.
Multi-layered reality
The challenges we face are complex. They affect not only us, but also the systems in which we live – and the relationships with nature that sustain us.
Maybe that’s why we need more differentiation.
And more honesty.
For a long time, I confused my efforts to empathize with restraint.
Today, I see the difference more clearly.
Your own perspective
My own perspective has also shifted. As a woman, I have tried to adapt to standards that were not made for me. Standards that favor certain forms of success and visibility.
I overlooked the fact that my own view is no less valid – but simply a different one.
I now recognize its own power.
An expansion of the view.
A new starting point
More and more, I am taking the freedom to set my own starting point instead of waiting for permission. Not as a finished position, but as something that develops.
What helps is not a perfect version of myself.
But one that is as honest as possible.
Artistic work does not arise from the attempt to fulfill expectations.
It grows from experience.
What remains when many things are possible
And then there is the question of the role of AI.
It can create images, write texts and speed up processes. Sometimes it seems as if it can make a lot of things easier. Perhaps even too much.
But what cannot be delegated remains: the inner process. The searching, the doubting, the starting again.
Developing your own attitude is not a technical problem.
It takes time. And attention.
Perhaps this is precisely one of the qualities of these new possibilities: that they make what cannot be automated more clearly visible.
Artistic expression is more than a result.
It is a path.
And perhaps also a form of self-empowerment.
Taking your own place
When I look back on this month, there is less of a clear answer than a movement.
A new direction.
Perhaps the question is not what this time takes away from me.
But what it shows me.
And what I am prepared to make of it.
In the end, something very simple remains:
I can begin to take my own place.
Not someday, but now.
In the middle of this changeable, indecisive, surprisingly honest month.
It’s time for art!
With best wishes
Magdalena
Click here for the other monthly notes:
November – Art is dead! Long live art!
The monthly impulses are my long-term project that grows with the course of the year.
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