I am obsessed with curiosity

And want to remain in process this year

a winter evening in november

To my friend,

I was sitting in this same spot when I wrote one of my most beloved letters last year. I didn’t know it at the time. I had awakened that morning to a vivid dream that connected my sleep reality to my wake reality - and it grounded the recent work I was pursuing.

I did a lot of new things with that collection. I worked every piece in the same exact size. I embraced the imperfections of monoprinting. I collaborated with seven incredible writers to bring their theme of the water into my work. The entirety of that project reflected process. Which at large, echoes the way I spent 2023.

When 2023 began, I was feeling quite unusual. Typically, a new year would have brought me motivation, productivity. A yearning for change. The organizer in me wanting to reach for a pen and paper to mark my claims for the year. Instead, I fussed with a wave of content. Something telling me I didn’t need to keep changing. I needed to see what was present.

Goals can be a beautiful thing and they can also present as a narcissistic older sibling. Someone always looming over you, taunting you to measure up to something to find your worth. I battled with myself internally wondering how I would know if I was making progress if I was content. I needed to feel something, even if it was just a small breeze, to know I was moving forward.

Challenged to find stillness each day, I started documenting the words that defined those present moments. Annoyed. Bored. Peace. Scattered. Grounded. Energized. Gratitude. Immersed. I knew what I needed from the year. And I knew I had to find it inside to admit to myself. I looked at what themes I wanted to fill my year with, and what chapters would naturally fall into order. I didn’t jump to complete the entire outline, detailing each quarter. I wrote an abstract for what would unfold.

I needed to convince myself of the truths stirring around in my head. Though, I think its utility is far more than that. This abstract has become a guiding direction. To come back to when I’m ready to put some concrete plans to paper and hold me accountable when I start veering out of my orbit.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction I want to head in this year. What themes I want present and what chapters I want to create. In many ways, my abstract this year doesn’t look much different. It’s a bit tighter, more clear, and more certain.

my abstract

I want to be in process. I want to sit in silence and listen to the world around me. I want to distill what I see into art — to springboard creative research and discourse. I want to guide others in their own processes. Because my heart yearns for me to find harmony between myself and creative process. To center practice. Art is the love of my life. And I will always find purpose in nourishing this lifelong affair.

I want to remain in process. Which, dear reader, probably doesn’t come as a surprise to you. Last year, I claimed to be finding myself as a process artist and started a podcast that details the words distilled from looking through my viewfinder. All of which is birthed from a purposeful, natural, or involuntary series of simply finding presence in being and doing.

I am obsessed with curiosity. And have an even greater infatuation with being obsessed with things. I’ve been writing letters for four years now and I think they’ve always held something slightly personal. The more I practice, the more I am finding an identity here. It’s offered a stage to present my findings and continue to find myself in process.

I heard something recently while listening to the audiobook “Making Love with the Land” by Joshua Whitehead. He read, “I think, if 10% of the day is spent blinking, and 30-40% dreaming, then we spend half our lives inside ourselves. What does that mean to spend half our lives inside ourselves?” While I am in process, I believe I am on the journey to understand more about what is inside myself. What catches my awareness? What holds my attention? What makes me obsessively curious? And how does it collectively invite me to the threshold of my being?

talk soon xx

Lauren

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- Currently reading: Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

- Currently studying: Atmospheres

- Currently exploring: this brainstorming tool (I love making webs to sort through ideas and have never thought to do one digitally)

Listen to: the latest Viewfinder episode

If we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting—I’m Lauren Sauder, an artist, writer, and mentor. If you enjoyed this post, here are a few ways you can connect with me:

• The Artist Mixed Tape—a mix of books, playlists, and residencies to provide inspiration and company in the studio.

• Receive letters from me—bi-weekly letters from me about what I’m working through in my creative practice and life.

• Enlist me as your mentor—if you are interested in support and guidance to grow your creative practice.

• Get in touch with me directly—send an email to laurensauderstudio@gmail.com.