Clayton Lindhorst

Clayton Lindhorst

Without art, I don’t think I’d know myself as well as I do now. Manifesting an image from a blank page proves that I’m alive and I’m doing something. I rarely create with an image in mind, I trust the picture to speak for itself. Through this, I allow my subconscious take over and I begin to draw what I really need to. I’ve noticed that this stream of consciousness style of art is a good way to find small patterns in my mind, like teeth, or hogs, or eyes, or beautiful women with strange heads. I’m still yet to decipher what most of this repetitive imagery means, though I’m fairly certain that I draw eyes as often as I do because it expresses a desire for connection.

The painting with the collaged faces wasn’t entirely my own, it was an old canvas that already had thick textured globs of paint smeared all over it. Instead of working against it, I embraced the chaos and decided this is what the image was meant to be. This painting wasn’t meant to be visually appealing. I was just having fun and treating the process like a ritual or a spell. The cutting and stitching of the canvas was meant to symbolize a healing process, and the faces I added were to make me feel less alone. I think the feathers and the pink flower were supposed to represent love.

I believe I have a particular affinity towards fire and all things related, including candles matchbooks. My process isn’t much different from collage, I see half the image, and work from there. When I see a few images come together, I trust the rest to follow and that’s where the “vision” comes in. You can’t always expect to start with a clear “vision” in mind when creating art. You just have to trust it to find you.

My art books are physical manifestations of everything I see, do, and say. They are pieces of my life. I trust that you can feel the energy of those experiences just by looking at the pages, even if you don’t know it. I only try to work on one book at a time, keeping it with me as often as I can and adding to it whenever I get the chance. Any time I find a scrap of paper on the ground, or a leaf or a flower, it triggers a small serotonin release in my brain that tells me “hey man, this could be art, this means something.” I believe everybody is capable of seeing the same sort of potential in pieces of paper and things like that. It’s all about becoming a child again and remembering how special it was to find weird bugs or cool rocks!

I want other people to realize that they’re just as capable of creating as I am. There’s always time to express what you’re thinking and feeling and the only thing holding anyone back is fear. Fear is the enemy of passion, and you can’t let it kill your creative potential. At the very least, I hope that non-creators will feel more understood when they look at my art. My goal is to feel noticed and let other people know they’re not alone. I know how good it can feel to hear my thoughts spoken out loud by another person. It reminds me that despite our separate bodies, we are all connected.