Taking the First Brave Steps

Series: The Unexpected Journey

A blog series by Laura V Jordan

Chapter Three – I Became

Taking the First Brave Steps

Finding my place in the art world.

There is something very different about painting something at home and actually putting it on a wall for other people to see.

At home, you’re safe.

You can love it one minute, hate it the next, paint over it, change it, hide it in a corner or decide that perhaps nobody ever needs to see that

particular masterpiece!

First Exhibition at Hamlet Court Road Art Trail - Eliza Boutique

But exhibiting it?

That’s different.

Suddenly you’re saying, this is mine. I created this.

And, if I’m completely truthful, that terrified me a little.

When I first started painting, I wasn’t thinking about exhibitions, commissions, products or becoming an artist. I was simply enjoying being creative again.

I experimented. I played. I made mistakes. Lots of them.

And I loved it.

There was something wonderfully freeing about being a beginner again. I didn’t know all the rules, which perhaps meant I wasn’t frightened of breaking them either.

Exhibition at Metal Chalkwell

Eventually, I joined Southend Art Club.

Even doing that felt like quite a step.

There were people there who had been painting for years, people with incredible technical knowledge and experience, and then there was me, still quietly wondering whether I could actually call myself an artist.

It’s funny how easily we put labels on other people but struggle to give ourselves the same permission.

Someone else paints? They’re an artist.

I paint?

“Well… I’ve started doing a bit of painting.”

I think quite a few people will recognise that feeling.

Exhibiting at Hadleigh Gallery

But I kept showing up.

And eventually came those first exhibitions.

I remember the nerves of seeing my artwork displayed properly for the first time. Suddenly something that had been created quietly by me was hanging there for complete strangers to look at.

Would they like it?

Would they understand it?

Would they walk straight past it?

And then, of course, came the biggest surprise of all.

People responded to it.

Some stopped.

Some asked questions.

Some connected with particular pieces.

And some actually bought them.

I sold four pieces during my first art trail, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget how that felt.

Not simply because somebody had bought something.

Getting some admin done by the coast at NPLH at Leigh Marina

It was the realisation that something I had created had made another person feel enough that they wanted to take it home.

That’s quite extraordinary when you think about it.

Those early exhibitions gave me the confidence to keep going.

Then came opportunities such as exhibiting at Hadleigh Gallery, another little step outside my comfort zone and another moment where I had to push through that familiar voice asking, Are you sure you’re ready for this?

I’ve since realised that voice probably never disappears completely.

The difference is that I’m learning not to let it make the decisions.

Because confidence didn’t arrive one morning before I did any of these things.

Painting at This Is Gas co-working space

The confidence came because I did them.

That’s something this journey has taught me again and again.

Sometimes we wait to feel ready.

We think confidence will arrive first and then we’ll take the leap.

But perhaps it works the other way around.

You take the slightly wobbly step.

You put the painting on the wall.

You walk into the room.

You introduce yourself.

You say yes.

And afterwards you realise…

I did it.

Then you do it again.

Little by little, something begins to change.

I certainly wasn’t suddenly confident in everything I created. Far from it.

I was experimenting enormously.

Abstracts. Acrylics. Mixed media. Texture. Metallics. Coastal paintings. Florals.

Some things worked.

Some definitely didn’t!

But every painting taught me something.

More importantly, I started discovering what felt comfortable to me.

I wasn’t trying to paint like anybody else. I was beginning to understand what happened when I stopped worrying about what something should look like and allowed myself to see what came naturally.

And somewhere amongst all that experimenting, something started emerging.

My own voice.

Not just as a painter.

As a person.

Perhaps that’s why those first exhibitions mean so much to me now.

They weren’t really about selling paintings.

They were about putting myself out there.

After years of confidently promoting other people’s businesses, celebrating other people’s creativity and telling other people’s stories, I was finally learning how to stand beside something I had created and say:

This is mine.

And maybe, just maybe…

I am an artist.

Next chapter…

In the next part of The Unexpected Journey, I’ll share what happened when I stopped worrying quite so much about what I thought I should paint and simply started experimenting.

Abstracts, metallics, texture, coastlines, flowers… I tried all sorts.

And somewhere amongst the mess, paint and experimentation, I began finding a style that felt much more like me.