A creative turn – after the beginning of an unexpected path

I suspect I may do well to enlist the help of my friends, as Julia Cameron recommends, for recovery from workaholicism. I love practicing qualitative research. I have the privilege of hearing people’s stories and perspectives, in order to curate those stories to tell a narrative that seeks transformation. I’m a curious person, too and being a researcher scratches the itch to learn something new every day. My work absorbs me and I easily submit to it.

So, moving beyond my professional practice to hold space for my artistic self has been testing.

Hiking at Tomales Bay, where the flora reached above my head in some places.

Since late 2018, I have been taking intentional, tiny moments to listen to my creative voice. Artist Jennie Bell – my wise mum – gave me The Artist’s Way for Christmas, from which I have applied the two central tools: morning pages and weekly artist dates.

I ‘turn up’ to the morning pages most days, even if I’m preoccupied with getting on with my rather long days at the office. My weekly artist date occurs roughly every month or so. I could see that attendance rate as failure yet I trust that these tiny moments accumulate over time, in the right direction.

Mo, mum and I horse-riding at Cooper Garrod Farm and Vineyard in Saratoga.

I have also been painting and sketching. When my schedule permits, I paint on Saturday nights at Oleg Tumasov’s studio. Oleg’s friendship has been integral to my creative journey. I’ve recently taken up 5-minute sketches on the train, after a shoulder injury induced a break from cycling to work. During mum’s recent visit, she and I collaborated on two pieces, through which taught me to let the paint speak and direct me.

I continue to unlearn as much as I learn.

Cecil Touchon described learning to paint and draw as akin to being reborn; to see that which has been in front of us the whole time yet unseen. This metaphor reminds me of what it is to be an ethnographer, to be able to research in my ‘my own backyard’. Ethnography provides a way to see every-day activities, people and their networks in fresh ways. The ‘data’ is right in front of me.

Usha, Danny and Mo enveloped by redwoods and sunrays at Muir Woods.

I see qualitative research and art as intertwining practices. Creating – be it through ethnography or art – requires submitting to an unknown path. I could not have conducted ethnographic research without the kindness of research participants. I could not create the art I make without the creative force within me.

To be clear, I’m not claiming to be an established artist. I am a fledgling artist still learning technique. But technique does not make me creative. What does help me be creative is following unexpected paths.

Leaving Australia for the Silicon Valley was one such unexpected path. Before we left Australia, I wondered, “What will life be like living nearby Google?” At the time, I did not appreciate the impact that having high tech corporations as neighbours would have on my professional pathway.

Taking the path less travelled has allowed for us to have the Santa Cruz Mountains and its numerous vineyards as our neighbours. Here, Mo carries his wine purchases to view the Silicon Valley from above.

I now have the privilege of leading and conducting user research and implementation research, as part of the human factors team of a company that builds surgical robots. It is fascinating work with inspiring research participants and some of the smartest, kindest colleagues for whom I could ask. Bringing an ethnographic perspective to product development and human-centred design is a tonne of fun. The experience is like nothing I could have had in Australia.

Coetaneously, taking the path less travelled led to a serendipitous re-awakening of my artistic side.

It seems to me that the real ‘work’ in life is to take the risk to walk through the unexpected doors that open to us. Philosopher of communication, Michael Hyde, says life is a series of interruptions. We make plans and something happens. How we respond is what matters. Indeed, this is how I’ve come to be painting again, an ocean away from home.

Is there an aspect of our lives in the Silicon Valley you would like to hear more about? Is there a topic you would like me to write about in future? Feel free to drop me a line using the comments below or message me here. Please remember to subscribe to my blog if you would like to receive irregular blog updates direct to your inbox.

My first painting since starting up again. Coco, my cat, was the subject.