On Letting Go in Art (Why I'm Destroying Work I Love)

There’s saying in art, that you have to “kill your darlings”. The term is understood to have originated within the context of writing, but I first heard someone say it during a painting course I took several years ago. The idea was that sometimes you fall in love with a painting too early - you become attached to one particular brushstroke, or a color that just doesn’t work but it’s your favorite. The concept is that you have to get rid of that thing. Keeping it may prevent you from seeing the rest of the piece clearly, of editing objectively. It may be beautiful, but not fit with the story you're telling. So I hate when I get to that part - when I make something that I just know I’m going to have to destroy - when I love it too much.

But, my ability to make art is contingent on my ability to get out of my own head. To follow my intuition, and not let something be so precious or perfect. While I always know I can probably add it back in, the thing about painting is that it may not be exactly the same next time (in fact, it'll probably never be exactly the same). It may destroy it, but more likely, it will have depth where it didn’t before. So inevitably, what always happens, is that covering it up makes me feel more free. If I’ve learned one thing about myself over the past few years, it’s that feeling free is the thing that makes me feel alive - the thing that makes my art feel alive - and that sometimes it's a feeling you have to create for yourself.

That’s why, when I knew that the way I’m working isn’t working, I knew I’d have to kill my darlings. Not just the pieces within a painting that I love, but the finished paintings. The ones that for one reason or another, just haven’t found their permanent home yet. Artists often talk about how it can take years for a painting to find the right collector. I wish I were that patient, but, well, I’m not. Painting for me is about the process. I love when my work finds a collector who it resonates with - because that connects us - but the truth is that I’m not painting for the collector. I’m painting for myself. Because it’s how I process my emotions and give myself the space to feel them. It’s the outlet I need to be the parent my child needs. It’s how I get myself through difficult times, and remind myself of the beauty that exists in the world. It’s how I create the freedom I’m seeking.

Many contemporary artists are taught to work in a collection release model, to come up with a concept and create multiple pieces in a certain style. Then, think and write and talk about the work for 6-8 weeks or more, to try and get it in front of your audience enough times that they’ll notice it before selling it on your own website. This model works for a lot of artists, but I’ve learned that it just does not work for me. The constant repetition of talking about work that I created, even just a few weeks to months ago, especially when mostly taking place online - that drains me. When I create work, I’m moving past whatever it is that I needed to pour into the work. So if it doesn’t sell within the timeframe of that “collection release”, I often don’t revisit it. I don’t talk about it again or share photos of it online. I’ve moved on to something new. The work mostly sits in my studio - adding clutter - and that drains me. Of course, there are times when an in-person event or a gallery or museum show - things that require long-term planning - require working on a series far in advance - that’s different from what I'm talking about here, and preferable, for me personally, because I just don’t love being the one who is selling my work. I know that’s part of the job description for most entrepreneurs, but I want to focus on creating my best work. I’d rather sell 10 pieces I love in a year than 20 pieces that maybe aren’t as good but I felt obligated to make to fit a concept.

So I decided, rather than hold on to paintings, even ones I love, waiting for the right collector to come - I’d paint over or repurpose them to create something new. Especially because this year, I decided to do a “no buy year (artist’s version)”, and I'm not buying any new art making supplies until I use what I have in my studio (I am working on an upcoming journal entry about this, but in the meantime I spoke about it briefly in this instagram reel). When I decided to shift to this new model, of making work available via my website only 2-3x/year for only 2 weeks, I worried that it would come across as some kind of scarcity sales tactic, but it truly is me trying to figure out what will best sustain me and my creativity.

And sure, maybe it doesn’t feel like I’m actually losing the work because I'll photograph and archive everything so I have record of it and can share with my licensing agent, or save for future prints. But, while I love those options for accessibility and to enable my work to reach a broader audience, and while there are some really great reproductions out there - it’s just not the same as an original. For my newer originals in particular, I’ve been trying to add something just a bit extra if I know I plan to consider it for reproduction. I’ll photograph the work before I add a metallic detail, or change the colors in the digital file just a bit, or wait to sprinkle shimmering diamond dust until the very end. That way, I know that the collector of my original is truly getting something one-of-a-kind.

I know that my best work is always in front of me, so if my favorite pieces don’t find a home now, I’m excited to use them in new ways - collage, repainting over a whole piece, or maybe it just needs a minor adjustment to take on a new life. I love to consider the possibilities, and while I would say that others know me to be down to earth and logical, I know myself to have my head in the clouds. So while not necessarily comfortable, this approach also seems more me. And if it’s REALLY a favorite, I do keep some of my own work in my personal art collection.

Today I’m sharing a few of my “darlings” with you. These pieces are all currently listed in my online shop through February 28. After that, whatever remains in inventory will cease to exist in the current form.

In no particular order, here are a few that I will have the hardest time repurposing. Sending my art out into the world always feels like giving away a piece of myself and destroying it feels a little like destroying those pieces. I’ll be honored if you choose to bring any of this work into your own space, and if not, I'll look forward to seeing what they become.

1. Searching for the Truth, 30x30”. This piece was inspired by a memory I had of my time studying abroad in France while I was in college. The green countryside, red and blue of the gros horloge, a famous clock tower where I lived in Rouen, the sparkle of the Eiffel Tower at night are just a few of the memories I included.
2. New realities no. 02, 5.5x8" matted to 11x14”. I honestly love this little piece and am not sure I can let it go. It's already been collaged from other work I cut up, and if this one doesn’t sell, it will probably join my personal collection.
3. I Should Be Fine By Now, 30x30” (31.5x31.5” framed). I painted this a few years ago and it really felt like the piece that helped me figure out how I like to paint. This piece is really meaningful to me because I poured a lot of the grief I’d felt between becoming a new parent, living through a global pandemic, losing my uncle after his brain injury, and just day to day personal challenges into making it.
4. The Silent Treatment, 30x30”. This is the only piece I’ve ever painted in this particular style, though I do have some ideas for how I’d like to use these techniques in maybe an inverse color palette. I just love the moodiness of this one.
5. Making Space for Something New, 22x30”. This piece is so fresh and nuanced. I love the contrast of the cool watercolor blues with the clean white. I don’t typically keep so much of a piece neutral, but can see myself exploring this more go forward.
6. Breathe Out, 12x12”. This piece is special to me because I wrote a short original poem to accompany it - “cool ocean breeze surrounds me, warmth of the sun on my face, breathe in fresh air, crisp yet soft, breathe out your memory".
7. Not the Same, 36x24” (37x25” framed). I painted this after the death of my dog. It’s about how it feels when something changes us - how you can be not the same in a transformed, expansive way, or in a way that feels like you lost something you can never get back. There has been a lot of interest in this one, but it just hasn’t found a home yet.
8. Lost in Translation, 30x30".  This was part of my open to interpretation collection which explored the ways we communicate (or don’t) with others and the impact that has on our emotional landscapes. This piece has one of my favorite techniques in it, which is writing in pencil and then covering it up with an iridescent paint so you can see the writing only from certain angles.
9. Limitless, 36x36”. The underlayer of this piece contains a written vision board for what I want to see in the world, and my son helped me cover it up with paint. This piece made it to the final round of a wallpaper licensing contest (though it didn’t ultimately win) and got me in the City of Boston’s Fay Chandler Exhibit for Emerging Artists. (This piece is currently on exhibit through Cape Cod Art Center, through today, so please email me at hello@jocelynelizabeth.com if you are interested).

Thank you, as always, for your support!

Jocelyn

Beyond the Studio with Jocelyn Elizabeth is an intimate behind-the-scenes look at my creative practice and life as an artist, writer and mom. Here, you can expect to find visual art, personal essays and poetry. My work explores the question of what it means to be alive from the interconnected lens of our human experience and the natural world, and I am interested in how we can live differently and better alongside the earth and each other. My portfolio and more information about me can be found at www.jocelynelizabeth.com.

Here are some ways you can support my work:

• Interested in collecting original artwork? My online shop is open 2-3x/year for 2 weeks, after which, remaining inventory is painted over or repurposed.
  • My online shop is currently open through 2/28/25. Next releases are tentatively scheduled for June + November.
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Thank you, as always, for your support!