The Art Rabbit

I had that fabulous buzzing feeling that is the desire to create. I really wanted to think of a satisfying crafting project, but I also wanted to ponder the nature of creating.

It’s fun to think about creativity. It’s quite miraculous really, our ability and desire to create. Where does it come from? How does a mind come up with new things? Why would one bother? It feels like I am participating in a miracle when I craft. Technically humans don’t need to create art or craft to survive, but every culture recorded has crafted and valued creativity. We may come from different backgrounds, cultures and even time periods, but every society has had people that create for the sake of creating. Doing creative projects lets me feel connected to this family of craft and creativity.

But being moved by the nature of creativity, doesn't make choosing a crafting project easier, there are a seemingly infinite number of choices available, and I have some anxiety in this department. I wish I was a master of a medium, instead of a traveler, a jack-of-all-trades, just checking things out. To get over my anxiety, I tried to visualize what I wanted to do.

I am a very visual thinker. Every conversation, joke, thought, story, or news item, paints a picture in my mind. Sometimes these mental pictures are very literal and make perfect sense, sometimes they are funny, (truly inside jokes), and sometimes they are beautiful. I asked myself to visualize the right direction to go. One of my most creative times for me is after my morning coffee. That’s when the image of a very colorful little rabbit came to me. Mental pictures for a visual thinker like me are nothing new, but this one felt special. I really love that creative feeling, which buzzes as if an electrical current is running through my mind. To have that attached to visions of a colorful rabbit felt meaningful.

In the beginning, I drew a lot of rabbits, but that didn’t feel like it was going anywhere. This little guy wanted more than a few drawings, he wanted me to go on a journey down the rabbit hole that is the creative path. Obviously, this was no normal rabbit. This was a rabbit with a multi-hued attitude, a rabbit wanting me to follow him. I named him, or he named himself, the Art Rabbit.

These visions of my fuzzy friend inspired me to get creating and ponder what it means to be creative. I started to love this creature; he represented everything I enjoy about creating.

So who is this Art Rabbit? I wondered to myself. Since it was part of myself, I simply asked out loud, “Who are you Art Rabbit?”

“I’m ready to go,” said the Art Rabbit.

“Where?” I asked.

“I like bright colors and interesting textures, shapes and I definitely like caffeine,” said the Art Rabbit.

Anthropomorphized personifications can be so vague sometimes, but I knew I wanted to start this journey down the rabbit hole and since I am a crafter, I wanted to craft. But I wasn’t sure where to start. Like I said, one of my many problems finding a good outlet when I feel creative is that I don’t have a medium I can call my own. I am a very creative person, but I can lack focus and I get bored easily. I have tried my hand at so many things, painting, pottery, comics, silk-painting, scrap-booking, sewing, paper arts, music and “carpentry.” Carpentry has to be in quotes because, if anyone saw the shelves and tables I have built, they would agree a person made them, but I don’t think they would say a carpenter made them.

In thinking about my desire when I envisioned the Art Rabbit, I realized he wanted me to not only go on a journey, but be self-aware enough to notice the journey I was on. I also realized there are stages to this crafting journey. There is the required dreaming, planning, gathering, claiming space and the joyous moment of actually creating.

Before I start on this crafting journey through the stages of crafting as I see them, I do want to talk a little bit about muses. Before the Art Rabbit, I often thought about the creative process as communicating with the muses. I think it’s really important to talk to one’s own muse. Ask it questions about what it likes, dislikes, or what it wishes the world looked like. The more one hangs out with one’s muse, the stronger one’s muse will be. It will take a more definite form and feel richer and often get the creator to bring it forth into the world, which is a fun journey. My muse is a sweet little muse that wants the world to be more fantastical. If my muse had its way, the animals would not only talk, they would wear top hats and vests. My muse is a bit addicted to animal videos and loves to draw, but my muse is not very good at right-angles or measuring.

At the moment my muse was showing up as a colorful rabbit named the Art Rabbit and we were going to go on a journey together.

This every day miracle of a journey starts with the buzzing of dreams. The creative person feels that buzzing feeling of being on the verge of creating something new. One has to dream up the idea first. But a dream isn’t enough. One has to get excited about the dream. In my mind this excitement is the coal in the engine, stoking the fires and giving energy for the sometimes tedious moments ahead. Friends and family should let the creative person blab on about their idea, let them fan the flame of art with the windy words of what will be done. This beginning stage is really fun, and lots of projects stop here, because it’s so fun. The crafter has to be willing to bring things from the ethereal realm to the material realm.

So I was pretty happy to get an idea of what medium I wanted to use, but I was nervous. This was a medium I had never used before: epoxy resin. I had always wanted to try to work with epoxy resin, but not gotten the courage up to do so.

What is epoxy resin? It’s very clear, hard plastic you create by pouring two liquids together. The internet is filled with so many eye-popping videos of some serious epoxy resin crafts, experiments and a lot of folks using a lathe. If I had a lathe to spin and shave the square pieces into opaque round balls to then patiently shine them up with many grits of sandpaper, maybe my creativity would have gone in that direction, but my muse had different ideas. (Drawings of rabbits would be used.)

Now I have been hanging out with my muse for a long time and I have to admit sometimes my muse can be impatient. My muse wants to do it all at once, right now, no planning at all. At these times, in my mind, the little rabbit gets too excited and rips up piles of colored construction paper in a flurry and then says, “I created something. I created something. I created a colorful mess.” Of course this journey takes patience. I have often had to explain to my muse that perseverance matters and that time is on our side as long as we don’t give up. I usually have to do this at the next stage, the planning stage.

Planning, which feels like the colored smoke of the ethereal realm turning itself into a list, can be tedious and nerve racking, because the crafter wants to get crafting, but doesn’t want to forget anything important. Tools and supplies must be gathered, which often can entail a trip to the craft store or these days a deep dive into the internet’s offerings both in things to buy and so many YouTube videos on techniques and creative ideas. I love the internet; one learns so many interesting things. It was interesting to see what happened to a boiled egg once it was entombed in epoxy for six months and then cut open with a jigsaw. (It was a gross rotten egg.) The crafter has to be conscious of not getting too distracted from the goal at hand, so don’t go down too many dead-end-side-road tangents. They will delay the time till crafting.

I have a funny story about gathering my supplies for this crafting adventure. Starting this project gave me anxiety. To deal with my anxiety, I had my mother buy the resin for my husband as a Christmas gift. I didn’t know what my muse was planning. At the time, I thought we were getting my husband a nice present. “Oh I think he would really like this,” I said to her. (He had off-handedly said he might want to do a layered Beatles collage with epoxy.) At the last minute, I told my Mom that she should write both names on the card. She laughed. We my husband and I opened the gift, he laughed, because he knew I had bought it for myself.

When my creative idea came to me, I was really happy we had the epoxy on hand, it was one thing I could mark off my list. I ordered a few silicon molds. A rather easy and fun way to use epoxy is to put it in a silicon mold. The epoxy can’t stick to the silicon, but does take 24 hours after pouring to harden. You can put different colors into the resin by adding paint or mica powder. There are opaque styles that use many flowing colors, clear styles that place objects like dried flowers in clear resin, and everything in between. One can purchase so many different silicon molds, from dominos to jewelry pendants. I bought one decorative box, and a set that had all kinds of silicon molds, with 2 sheets of pendants, some “jewels” which I didn’t understand the point of and an adorable collection of glitter in tiny glass bottles.

Together my muse and I had dreamed, gotten excited, gathered my supplies, and finally I had to claim space. Every project needs its own space, and again what a crafter needs depends on the project. I don’t have a dedicated craft space so I am a vagabond crafter, painting in the garden, sewing while we binge-watch whatever, throwing pottery at a friend’s house or drawing at the kitchen table. But even if you have a crafting room (you lucky rabbit) it’s important to have a well-organized, cleaned space, where everything is easily in reach.

The first time I did a “pour,” I used the kitchen table. In our house, my husband coined this term “pour" when referring to me working with epoxy and claiming the kitchen table for a few hours. He officially thinks this term is hilarious. I am not sure why.

Because this stuff is notoriously sticky and messy and I am notoriously messy, I surrounded and covered my kitchen table in parchment paper. I laid it on the ground, under the silicone matt, and over a box that was my working area.

For this first pour, I messed up. I had watched so many videos on how to do it, that I confused myself and didn’t go back and read the scant instructions on the large bottles, so I weighed the resin and the hardener out, but with this particular brand I was supposed to measure by volume, not weight. (Whoops.) Nothing exploded. What did happen was that the little charms and the lid to the box I was planning to make never quite set, so they will always be a soft plastic. I actually kind of like the bracelet that way, but the rest are not good. My husband—cheerleader that he is— said, “Well now you know how to get soft ones.”

That night my muse was on fire. Not literally. I am not a very literal person. What I am trying to say here is that my muse was super, super excited. It was a extra happy muse ready to create. At the moment, I didn’t have the space to do another “pour,” (husband still laughing) so I just sat down to draw. Often the whole journey isn’t transmitted at once. You have to start on the journey to see how it’s going to go.

I drew the animals my muse wanted to see. Then I took pictures of those drawings and put them in the computer. This way I could use the same drawing, but apply many different colors and patterns. I sized the drawings to fit into the pendant molds I had bought. Then I printed those drawings. This wasn’t all in one day. When working with your muse, your muse has to work with you. Your muse has to take things step by step and have patience.

Here are the drawings I did. Super simple I know, but I love them soooooo much. I sized the images to fit into the pendant molds I had bought and then printed a few sheets of a bunch of different versions of the drawings. These versions were really small. I got my pair of scissors out. With all crafting it’s important to use a good pair of scissors. I needed to do a good job. If I messed up in my cutting, someone could lose an ear or their whiskers. Their whiskers!!!

Once I had all my characters cut out, I did my pour. My work space was still our rustic kitchen table covered with lots of parchment paper. I had bought a pack of different mica powders. The colors were inspiring. I could also ad glitter, gemstones, sequins, and so many shinny things from the mini, shinny thing collection that came with the silicon mold kit. (When I saw all those tiny jars with brightly colored shinny things my inner child did a little yelp.)

I poured the resin and hardener together in equal parts by volume into a plastic cup and mixed for five minutes. Then I poured that clear mix into a few smaller cups. I colored them with my chosen colors by adding some mica powder and stirring it in. There were so many colors to choose from, but I was proud of myself, I didn’t choose them all.

In one of the many videos I watched, I learned that I needed to pour a “window,” some clear resin, into the silicon mold. This would give everything depth and protect the drawings. Then I placed my colored drawings face down in the clear resin. After that, I gently poured different colors into the mold and swirled them around like an artist. Would I usually call myself an “artist”? Probably not. But I did feel like an artist in this moment. I felt it down to my toes.

I was nervous for my characters. I loved them and I knew I could mess them up. If I swirled too much, I would bring the colored resin forward and mix them into oblivion.

Once all my pendants were filled, I poured the remaining resin into a silicon mold of a jewelry box. Then I had to wait 24 hours. (My inner child whined a little about that.) When I came home from work, I washed the dishes and swept, as I looked at the filled molds. I was nervous. I got out a plate and one by one popped them out. It was a meal of my creativity. I really liked how they turned out.

“How is my resin project going along?” my husband asked.

“Look,” I said.

“Wow,” he said.

I had to show everyone. Going over to a friend’s house for outdoor wine and cheese, I brought out my little jewelry box, opened it and cast the pendants on the table. My friends are gracious people so whatever I brought over for show-and-tell would have been met with kind enthusiasm, but in their responses I felt that buzz when a muse feels like it has put something rightly into the world.

“These are not going to be pendants,” I said of the slightly larger pieces. “I am going to make stands for them and make them into mini-paintings.”

“I really like that giraffe,” Michael said.

“They are all good, I like this one, and this one, and this one,” Jeannine said, “but I think that one is yours.” She was pointing at a multi-colored rabbit with a blue background.

“You’re so right,” I said, stunned. “That is my muse.”

When you’re at a certain point in a journey, you can look back and be aware of more than when you were going through the stages of the journey. Looking back, it was easy to see what happened. My muse was in control the entire time. How long had my muse been planning this journey? Where did the desire for this project come from? Where had this idea of the Art Rabbit come from? I didn't get any direct answers to my questions, but thinking about why I like to create let made me realize that, for me, the satisfaction in crafting is the journey. I know that sounds like a cliché, because it is one, but clichés can often be profound when you live them. Later, after many more pours, I thanked my muse for the journey he took me on. And in my-mind’s eye, the rabbit showed up. I was happy to see him. Then he bounded off, but I wasn't worried, because I knew I would continue to follow him far down this crafting path.