By: Saije Rusimovici
Art has always been a huge part of my life, even though I never considered myself an artsy person. I always thought that a “good” artist had to have exceptional drawing or painting skills. This mentality has stuck with me since elementary school, when I received mediocre grades on all my projects. I enjoyed using my imagination in art class, but would always be disappointed at the low grades my teachers gave me, despite my creative efforts. In those formative years, when a subjective thing like art is judged based on a teacher’s rubric, it feels like an objective judgement of your artistic capabilities. For this reason, I shied away from activities like painting, even though I enjoyed them, for fear of not being good enough.
It wasn’t until my adult years that I realized appreciating art was not limited to being good at traditional mediums, nor could it be assessed by a generic academic scale. As a kid, I had fallen in love with songwriting — appreciating and dissecting the lyrics of my favourite songs. I even started to write songs on my own, finding peace in the storytelling process through music. Looking back on my childhood, I realize that there is no “right” way to make or appreciate art, nor does everything you make have to be perfect.
Despite this, it still took a while for me to be comfortable creating. As I mentioned, I was never particularly good at painting or drawing, and despite my efforts to learn how to write music to accompany my lyrics, I wasn’t very good at playing the guitar either. Frustrated, I figured I couldn’t call myself an artist because I didn’t have the talent or patience to learn what all my artistic friends were able to do. Even in everyday life, my best friend’s bullet journal was set up nicer than mine. So, instead of focusing on being perfect, I decided to go back to the beginning, to my true desire: to create.
Taking up scrapbooking was something I always wanted to do, but never thought I would be good at. By “good,” I mean making sure my photos were meticulously chosen, lined up properly, and the pages were decorated with perfect connection to the theme reflected in the pictures. The thought of bringing out my ruler to measure cardstock made me want to pull my hair out. I decided to push all these thoughts aside (including those that tried to compare what I created with someone else’s project) and do whatever I wanted with the blank pages of my brand new scrapbook.
I used scraps of craft paper, left from other attempted endeavours in art, and created my very first page. I decided to document each month as a page or two in my scrapbook, dressing my canvas with photos, stickers, and tangible mementos (things like restaurant business cards) from the month. I didn’t buy any of the fancy pens my friends purchased from Michael’s. Instead, I raided my mom’s sticker collection that she’s had since I was a little kid. I used cutouts from old magazines and newspapers lying around my house. Trying to find things to decorate the pages was a lot more fun than I originally expected, and I relished in the feeling of finding random materials that ended up working well with the photos I chose.
I barely measured, planned, or focused on perfecting anything on any of the pages — instead I let my intuition guide me, decorating the pages with anything I had in front of me and choosing images that evoked feelings . . . Through scrapbooking, I fell in love with creating again.
About three months into scrapbooking, I decided to invest in a few more quality materials that would help me create what I envisioned: things like a glue gun and lettering stamps. I finally felt as though I found a hobby that resonated with me and allowed me to hone my artistic personality, even if it meant I had to use all the ink from the family printer every now and then. This all started with taking that first step away from the concept of perfection — the idea that in order for something to be good or worth your time, it has to be flawless.
There is no right way to make or appreciate art. Had I focused on what other people thought, or kept comparing my work to others as if I were competing for an invisible prize, I would have strayed away from the reason I wanted to make art. I started my scrapbook to reflect on my life, relationships, and adventures, giving my memories and experiences a permanent life on a page.
I’m still learning and navigating through my artistic journey outside the confines of academic judgement and perfectionism. I’ve taken on new projects and learned a lot from creators on social media. I don’t compare myself to them. Instead, I see them as a source of inspiration and encouragement, and delight in their wisdom and experience to expand my artistic horizons. Today, my perspective of art and what I consider as being an artist has changed. I’m no longer fueled by striving for perfection — by seeking validation from my friends, or even worse, my teachers. Scrapbooking has become a way for me to transfer the abstract aspects of my life into tangible works of art. Even though I’m still learning to embrace imperfection and stray away from self imposed judgement, I’ve learnt that art, in all forms, is about letting our creativity run, reflecting on our experiences, and making us feel something.
