Six months of self-employment: creativity, confidence and keeping going

Six months ago, I took the leap to become a full-time self-employed artist (aka skint).

It was a decision that had been brewing for a long time. I knew there would be uncertainty, financial pressure and the challenge of building a sustainable creative business. I also knew that if I didn't give it a proper chance, I'd always wonder 'what if?'

Now, six months in, I've realised that the journey has been every bit as layered, interrupted and varied as the landscapes I paint.

A season of making

One highlight has been returning to the studio after April in Orkney, travelling all over Scotland delivering artwork for summer exhibitions, teaching, sketching and simply being out in the landscape.

Sometimes cretivity needs space to breathe. Looking back, I can see that all those walks, sketches and observations were quietly feeding the work. Then, almost all at once, everything clicked into place.

In just a few weeks in June I completed 52 new paintings. An incredible burst of creative energy. Ideas flowed freely and I found myself completely emmersed in painting. Now it is normal for me to work in bursts, but this was much more intense as I didn't have a full-time job getting in the way. It was also a good reminder that creativity needs periods of gathering. And as always after that burst of output, I am feeling reflective and exhausted!

Some of these new works are on show already at Ship of Fools Gallery in Orkney (summer exhibition runs until the end of August) and some are about to refresh my artwork held at The Perthshire Gallery (Pitlochry). With most marked to exhibited at the Pittenweem Arts Festival (1st to 8th August), Pentlands Open Studio (15th & 16th August) and Aberdeen Arts Fair (28th to 30th August).

Alongside these new paintings, I've also been taking part in 100 Days Project Scotland, creating a series of miniature landscape stamps. Working on something small every day has been a reminder that creativity doesn't always have to be ambitious.

Trying new things

The past six months have also been about pushing myself beyond what feels familiar.

I've been experimenting with resin with a support grant from Falkirk Creates: from place to creative space (a project being run by Falkirk Delivers and Artlink Central with funding from Creative Scotland and the National Lottery). I am very grateful for this investment in my development. I have been exploring how resin captures light and creates layers that echo the atmosphere and shifting horizons of the Scottish landscape that inspire my work. I'm still discovering what's possible with the material and that's part of the excitement of learning a new technique.

I also developed my first propoal for a public artwork in Falkirk town centre. Although the proposal wasn't successful, creating it felt like an important milestone. It challenged me to think beyond painting and imagine how my creative output could exist within a shared public space.

Not every application leads to an opportunity, but every one builds experience, confidence and resilience. I'll take what I have learnt into the next proposal.

When confidence disappears

If I'm honest the past fortnight has also been the hardest, and I must remember that a dip in confidence is quite normal for me after a outpouring of creativity.

I've found myself questionning my work, wondering whether I am good enough and comparing my journey to everyone else's. Social media has a way of making it look as though every artist is constantly selling work, securing exhibitions and moving effortlessly from one success to another. I am guilty of portraying this as well, but the reality is very different.

Working for yourself can be incredibly isolating. There are no colleagues to reassure you after a rejection, no mid-year review reminding you how far you've come (for any past colleagues: can you believe I am actually missing preparing for a mid-year review!). When things feel quiet, it's easy to convince yourself that you're standing still.

I'm reminding myself that confidence isn't something that you achieve once and keep forever, it comes and goes. Some days it feels effortless, other days you have to rebuild it from scratch.

What has helped me most is spending time with my daughter in London last week, cleaning the studio (it was in a hell of a mess after my creative burst) and reminding myself why I paint. Not because every painting will sell or every application will succeed, but because making work is how I make sense of the world around me.

Looking back to move forward

When confidence is low, it's remarkably easy to forget what you've achieved.

Looking back over the last six months, I've built new collections of work, exhibited across the UK, started teaching again, experiemented with new materials, submitted my first public art proposal and met so many wonderful people through exhibitions and events.

Perhaps that's the biggest lesson so far: progress rarely looks the way you expect it to.

Some milestones are obvious, others are quieter. Learning a new process. Finding your voice. Recovering after a rejection. Starting again the next morning.

These things matter too.

Looking ahead

I know some of the things the next six months will bring (a very busy August, September in Fair Isle, and hopefully a warm holiday in October) but I don't know everything it will bring.

There will undoubtably be more uncertainty, more applications that don't succeed and days where I question myself. But there will also be new landscapes to explore, new paintings to make and new opportunities I can't yet imagine.

If there is one thing this first chapter has taught me, it's that being an artist isn't always about feeling ready or confident. It's about continuing to create even when confidence wavers.

To everyone who has bought a painting, visited an exhibition, shared my work, sent a message of encouragement - a huge heartfelt thank you.