Austin-based artist Alyson Fox has a BFA in photography, but that’s not where her artistic talent ends. She earned her MFA at the University of Colorado experimenting with all sorts of materials, so now she draws, paints, makes objects, sews, designs jewelry, makes prints, creates elaborate patterns, and, of course, still takes beautiful photographs. In fact, in 2012, she published a book, A Shade of Red, with Chronicle Books, filled with stunning images of one hundred women from all walks of life wearing the same shade of lipstick. Genius. Outside of her personal artistic endeavors, Alyson has been commissioned by a long list of amazing clients including West Elm, Lululemon, Ink Dish, and many more.
JC—Describe the first moment that you truly felt like an artist.
AF—I was probably nineteen, and it was the first project that I got totally lost in during my time as an undergrad, when I was shooting, developing, and printing film for the first time. I lost track of time completely. I had never lost track of time before and it was a really good feeling. I’m not sure that at that moment I truly felt like an artist, but it was something that I wanted to continue to feel.
JC—If you weren’t an artist, what would you be?
AF—An explorer—digging for treasures of sorts. Or a dancer. Or an architect.
JC—Which artist are you most jealous of, and why?
AF—Yikes. If I had to just name one, I would have to say Rachel Whiteread. I lust over her sculptures and the materials she uses to create them. Her subject matter is always compelling to me and leaves me with that “I wish I had done that” feeling. They are at once complex, quiet, and provocative. She makes me think about spaces and objects in a much greater capacity than I used to. I now look at the empty space under all chairs differently because of her piece Untitled (One Hundred Spaces). My close second would be Louise Bourgeois.
JC—Where do you look for inspiration?
AF—At hardware stores, building sites, empty rooms, other people’s messes, in good design, conversations, and the time right before I fall asleep.
JC—Do you ever equate your self-worth with your artistic successes?
AF—Absolutely. It’s hard not to ask yourself “Why am I doing this?” if you feel like things are not going the way you had hoped. I’m not entirely past it so it’s hard for me to answer fully, but I will say that success is a really hard thing to measure. I try my hardest to stay in the present and focus on all the positive things that I have going on in my artistic and personal life and not base my success on someone else’s achievements.
JC—How do you handle criticism, if it comes your way?
AF—Oh, it definitely comes my way. I will get a bit of the inner whines at first, but I try to muster up some maturity and remember that I’m making things for people to see and judge in a way, and that not everyone is going to like what I make. I don’t like everything that I see. That’s impossible. I think criticism helps me grow and strive to make better work.
JC—Do you ever hear your inner critic?
AF—All the time. Sometimes it helps me reason and make a decision, and sometimes it will hinder me from moving forward faster. But for me, having an inner critic is what keeps me never fully satisfied—always wanting to make, and do, more.
JC—How do you push yourself through creative blocks?
AF—I used to beat myself up mentally over it if I had a slow week or two of not making anything. Now I still do to some degree, but I have found that what works best for me is to talk it out with my husband, and then do something outside of my work space and non-art-related for a day or two. I cook a lot of random things, I organize and get rid of things (this one always helps me), I watch a movie, I go for a hike. . . . I try to get to a place mentally where it is OK to take a break and just do something else. And a good cry always works.
JC—How do you feel when you experience the opposite of a creative block—when things are truly flowing?
AF—I feel as though time has stopped and I am possessed in some way. I feel happy, lucky to be able to do what I love, and motivated to keep going.
[I find inspiration] at hardware stores, building sites, empty rooms, other people’s messes, in good design, conversations, and the time right before I fall asleep.
It’s hard not to ask yourself “Why am I doing this?” if you feel like things are not going the way you had hoped.
1. Pick three random addresses from a phone book—maybe pick a name that you have always liked.
2. Write a letter to those three strangers telling them a true story of when you helped someone (it can be someone that you knew or did not know). All three letters can be the same, or different if you are a really good Samaritan. At the end of the letter ask them to please share a similar helping story with you as you are looking for inspiration to draw, write, or photograph something.
3. Decorate your letter in some way to make it special. Include a recipe or maybe some seeds they can plant.
4. Take a photograph of or scan your letters so you have a record of them.
5. Put each letter in an envelope and include a self-addressed, stamped envelope in hopes that they return a letter to you.
6. If you get something back, relish in the fact that you communicated/connected to a complete stranger. See what comes out of that.
