How 10 Female Artists Turn Feelings of Powerlessness Into Fuel

There is perhaps no harsher critic than a woman towards herself. From physical appearance to achievements, competence to self-worth, truly, we can be brutal and unrelenting with thoughts and comparisons that inflict deep, painful, and sometimes even crippling insecurities. Such judgements, if spoken aloud would surely enrage us were they directed towards someone we love. But perhaps that’s just it—most of us have not been taught to love ourselves; and so, in moments of powerlessness, it’s all too often that we fall into doubt rather than self-assurance. However, it’s in that space that we have the ability to embrace choice. It’s the one place where we actually maintain full control—within ourselves—to shift the narrative. It’s there that we must champion vulnerability to create a safe space for change. By sharing experiences, how they’ve impacted us, and how we’ve learned to navigate them, we may create an environment where every woman and girl live up to her full potential.

There’s an old Cherokee story where a grandfather is teaching his grandson about life:

“A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil–he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good–he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you–and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

We can choose to continue to put ourselves down, or we can rise up, together.

On the 8th of March every year, International Women’s Day commemorates the social, cultural, economic, and political achievements of women. To celebrate womanhood this year, we talked to ten female artists on when they felt the most powerless and how they turned that into fuel for their own empowerment. Each of them delve into their lowest moments—experiences as artists, entrepreneurs, women—divulging some of their deepest vulnerabilities; and ultimately how that has led to who they are now—strong, impassioned, and successful creative professionals.

Whitney Sharpe (ceramicist):

Physical and emotional powerlessness are different experiences that have visited me periodically, both having individual challenges. After three knee surgeries, I am familiar with the humbling affect of not being able bodied. My last surgery was especially challenging, forcing me to need help walking, driving and cooking. Far away were the days of climbing the stairs of my studio with 100 pounds of clay in tow or hiking up a mountain for inspiration. The inability to harness my creative autonomy was mind numbing. I watched my leg atrophy in the stillness of healing and it made me reflect on everything I’d taken for granted. Once able to walk freely again, I was left in deep awe and appreciation for my body, grateful to return to my days of slinging clay. Without this vessel I would not be able to channel my concepts into reality and that compels me to make daily.

A less physically obvious form of powerlessness I’ve experienced is the feeling of simultaneously reaching my goals and feeling dissatisfied. I call this perpetual dissatisfaction and is a driving force to push my creative boundaries. For years I worked towards a goal of being in stores nationwide and once achieved, the connection to my work was lost. Stuck in the groove I had meticulously carved for myself, I realized the only way to correct this was to make space for the unknown. I took the hustle of production to a near halt and decided to approach clay like a student again. Ignoring my preferred technique, I challenged myself to work on a large scale with coil building. I never fully appreciated coiling and my aversion to anything other than slab building is waning. It’s all in the process of unfolding as I write this but I am inspired to continue leaning into new techniques, shapes and investment of my time. My goal is to make work that is meaningful and challenging or simply said: better work.

Meryl Pataky (neon artist):

When do I feel the most powerless?More often than I’d like to admit.I chose a path ripe with turbulence—that of a freelance artist in a niche trade.I think those moments of “go” despite the powerless state are what have built strength, optimism and confidence in myself.My medium accepts nothing besides zen and I need to try and maintain that energy in the studio in order to successfully produce. It’s something I’ve learned over time: nobody is going to get this done besides me. And I have to work harder than most in my field to prove myself.Self-doubt is a trickster. Look what I can do with these two hands! Just gotta put them to use and the rest will fall into place.

Lowest moments include breaking finished work. Okay, it’s broken. Whose gonna remake this?No one?Okay, Meryl, let’s go. Mind over matter IS the practice I’m in. I bend glass. I try and translate that practice into the personal and spiritual realms whenever I can.

 

Lise Silva (fiber artist):

I feel most powerless when my writing or art is misinterpreted. I have an unusual background and life experience, and based on my appearance most people misjudge just about everything about me from my race/ethnicity, to my age, class background, etc. I grew up as an outsider, but for some reason I have never made peace with the reality of being misunderstood or having false assumptions projected on to my writing and art. I place such a strong, almost magical, value in my ability to communicate both visually and with my words, so when it can’t cut through I feel powerless, inconsequential, fruitless, and disappointing.

I always had a strong sense of justice and somewhere along the way put a role upon myself as the mouthpiece and protector of my communities, ideas, and experiences. I now realize my energy is better focused on uplifting, supporting, and connecting to my community than in conflict with people who’s minds aren’t open to other experiences or trying to teach people that aren’t interested. I’m still in the process of learning that people are often perceiving things to validate their own worldview and I have no control or responsibility over their projections or interpretations. I’m learning that my work can still stand and just be, it doesn’t require the validation of others.

The powerless feeling of being misunderstood as an artist led me to write a booklet called Craft & Practice about integrity and creative process as an artist, creator, student, and teacher. I poured my heart into it and felt really, really vulnerable and uncomfortable putting it out in the world at the time because it took a strong stance on topics people in my creative community weren’t speaking publicly about. In the end, writing it has been a game changer for me in my journey to express and turned out to be possibly the most important work I’ve created. It opened new doors for my work and is a new channel for my creative practice. Its touching to get so much feedback from strangers and was a lesson to me that the strongest work can come from a vulnerable place. Many times, we do not want to dive into hurt, powerless, or vulnerable places or express the underrepresented or unconventional parts of ourselves, but often expressing those experiences are how we transmute them and are exactly the things that empower us and others.

Meghan Shimek (fiber artist):

When my father died and I was going through my divorce I used all the inadequate feelings I felt about myself and all the loss and pain I was going through to channel into making my work. I was able to move those feelings through my body and allow my hands to work with the materials to create art. That pain gave me a lot of power and allowed me to gain a new sense of self and new confidence that I had never felt in myself before.

My lowest point was at the end of 2018, I was going through so much and realized I needed to make major changes in my life. For nearly two months I barely made any work. I could barely get out of bed most days. It took months of slowly allowing myself to find myself again. Each week I would find a new piece of me, a new part of who I wanted to become. I made my world really small so that I could heal and take care of myself. When I finally started weaving again I made a piece that signified exactly how I was feeling—it looked like a wound. Through that I was able to truly begin healing and now, a year later, I am finding myself in one of the most creative and fiery times in my life. I want to make constantly and I have more ideas than I have time for.

 

Stephanie Intelisano (ceramicist):

I keep referring to this past year as my most transformative. To be completely honest, I hit my emotional rock bottom over the past three weeks. I finished a job that consumed almost a year of my time, acknowledged that my current body of work no longer reflects who I’ve become and what I want to say, and sold my house. I decided that I could either give up entirely or push forward in a different way on my own terms. After a lot of internal back and forth, I chose the latter and have been working on designs for a new collection in addition to accepting that my previous way of working wasn’t serving me and that I need to shift.

In my lowest the thoughts of giving up were in the lead—why did I leave my job and a career I was good at? Why did I think I could make a living as an artist or craftsperson? Why did I leave New York and move so far from a place where I belonged? I have nothing interesting to share and my work is shit.

I’m not sure if my next moves will lead to excellence but they are the only clear paths forward I see. This week I bought clay so I can start to teach myself how to use my RAM press and make work that will be gas fired (both skills I own the equipment for but have been too scared to jump into). Those small moves have felt big. It’s always scary to shift and grow but this time around I am not resisting it. So we will see.

 

 

Aleksandra Zee (woodworker):

I feel the most powerless when I get in my own way—when I give into the internal voice that tells me I am not worthy of what I have worked for—imposter syndrome telling me that I am a phoney and no one cares about what I have to say. Turning this into power is about stopping what I am doing in the moment, taking a deep breath, and reminding myself that I am here because I deserve it. I have worked my ass off to get here and I am not going anywhere!

Some days are tough—when the internet critics come running and the harsh comments chip at me, but returning home to myself is where my power is restored.

So many of my low moments have caused a chain reaction of stepping up to the challenge that I don’t really categorize them as low moments. Times when things haven’t gone the way I had hoped, or the opportunity was missed, or I really got in my own way all led to me turning that energy into forward motion energy that then pushed me to surpass the goals I had felt let down by not reaching in the past.

Erin Fong (letterpress printer):

After six-plus years of co-owning a letterpress business with a friend (something that was once THE goal for me), we recently made the decision to close our business. At times it felt like this decision meant that we were failing, that we didn’t have a successful business, that we were giving up, that people didn’t like or value our work. With time I have come to acknowledge that things change and that’s ok. I have restructured those 6 years as a major learning opportunity and that having a small creative business in San Francisco is a huge accomplishment.

Change allows for growth and being untethered from a business, client work, and others’ expectations has allowed my personal practice to flourish. I started The Friendship Project over a year ago as a way to reconnect with printing and to simply play around in the printshop. This project has allowed me to connect with hundreds of people and print over 150 posters in an uplifting series that continues to grow. I recently had the opportunity to present this work in a gallery setting and has lead to commissions and installations based on this body of work. The response has further encouraged me to focus on my practice and the kind of work that I want to create.

 

 

Nkechi Njaka (neuroscientist, meditation guide, choreographer):

One of the most impactful times I felt powerless was right after grad school. I got a job as a neuroscientist in Palo Alto and I lived in San Francisco. It was everything I wanted on paper— a real neuroscience job that had a small team of young scientists, it didn’t feel like a lab, we got free breakfast and lunch every day and it was in my area of scientific interest! But it was truly a really difficult job for me. It was a really toxic environment and I was miserable. At the end of 2 years of working there, I got laid off. It felt like it was a huge failure and I felt embarrassed—like I wasn’t worthy of the title of neuroscientist (and that I was never going to be one). It was a really painful time in my life.

My partner at the time lived in Minnesota (which is where our parents lived and where I’m from) and it felt really clear that I needed to moved back to Minnesota. I saw it as an opportunity to work on our relationship which was struggling because of distance but also because I wasn’t happy in that job. I knew I didn’t want to live there permanently (or at all), but I felt like it was something I needed to do and convinced myself that the silver lining would be the relationship. Since he traveled for work 90 percent of the time, we would see each other only really on the weekends (for the majority of our relationship), so it felt nice to intentionally plan to be in the same place, call the same place home and finally build a home and life together; which is what we attempted to do. During those two years I didn’t work. Instead, I focused on myself and my health— I went to therapy, had a health coach, went to yoga everyday, had a regular dance and choreography practice, wrote all the time, deeply practiced meditation, and started asking the questions of what is next for me, what am I doing, what am I meant to do, what is my purpose, what is my dharmic truth.

Slowly the relationship unraveled, and we never got engaged (which I was totally banking on) despite going ring shopping five times. We had a horribly traumatic break up and I had to move out of our place in this really dramatic way —super devastating.

I was clear on where I wanted to be and decided that I was going to move back to San Francisco. I didn’t have a clear idea as to what I was going to do for work though! But I had some thoughts. Neuroscience felt out. But I knew I wanted to work in wellness, I knew I wanted to be a mindfulness teacher. I knew I wanted to work for myself and create my own community. I knew I wanted to include movement and dance and the arts, though I didn’t know what that would look like. So I started my business without an example. I had an internship that didn’t pay any money, I had no furniture and no real plan.

12 years ago, 10 years ago, and even today there really isn’t any thing that’s shown me the direction of how to combine all the things I felt and feel passionate about. Nor how to make it career which has always been both exciting and terrifying. I stepped into the unknown bravely. I did this alone, severely heartbroken, AND it was the best thing to ever happen and the very best thing I could have ever done. Today I feel so capable of doing anything that I want to— and I trust myself. I’m not reliant on a partner which is something that I always wanted for myself. I am so much more aware of my power now.

Joanne Encarnacion (relationship and life coach, photographer):

One of the moments in my life where I felt extremely powerless was as a women I had no answers on what to do next within in my relationship or my marriage. It took a lot of courage to be radically honest with myself to face my own truth of not knowing. Not only was it super humbling but it was also an opportunity to turn a moment, conflict, or trial into power.

I’ve always been able to find an extreme power in vulnerability and really be able to face my truths with an incredible amount of radical honestly. In that, I was able to not only find the compassion I needed in myself to be able to either seek help, or become well resourced enough to turn that into a powerful experience.

 

 

Chia Tamada (lettering artist):

The times I felt most powerless were when I let my mind become overwhelmed with the infinite number of tasks I needed to get through during the days, weeks, and months. We all have obligations and commitments to the people around us – our family, loved ones, colleagues, clients, pets, and more. And the number of tasks we feel we could/should do to make the other person happy is endless.

During moments like this, I found myself losing clarity of what were the most important things that had to get done. And this would spiral into long periods of feeling anxious, losing sleep, eating unhealthy, and feeling less inspired to create.

What helped me overcome these difficult moments was when I gave myself time and space to take a step back and define what exactly I wanted to get out of the stage in my life (whether it be the next month, quarter, or year), and which of those tasks in my endless list would help me get there. This mindset gave me a good framework to ruthlessly prioritize the things that were most important to my own growth and happiness, like realizing the underlying value of pursuing the passion project that I had been putting off or setting a non-negotiable with myself to exercise five times a week because I want to be fit and healthy in the years to come, and it’s led me to feeling more in control of my life.

Feature photo by Anna-Alexia Basile