"I challenge you to create a series of Terrible Artworks." — Lidija Nagulov

Creative Dialogue #11

Creative Dialogues is an ongoing project to learn from fellow artists. I’ve interviewed an astonishingly wonderful variety of creative individuals about their art, creative practices, and how they make it all work. I send every participant a list of questions about creativity and the creative practice. They respond to the five questions that resonate most, so every interview reflects the artist’s own curiosities and interests.

Today’s interview is with artist and pattern designer

Lidija P Nagulov

, author of ArtDHD.

Image source: Lidija Nagulov

Hi! My name is Lidija (pronounced Lydia, the confusing ‘j’ is there because the Serbian alphabet doesn’t have the letter ‘y’), and I’m a Serbian-Canadian nature illustrator living and working in Montreal, Quebec. I have recently read someone state ‘my pronouns are She/Her, but not like a woman, more like a ship’, and have never resonated with a sentence more than that. I am in love with tiny, weird and overlooked creatures and my drawings try to show the less-explored side of nature. Like, I'm really into wildflowers, weeds, slugs and bugs, lichens, barnacles... that sort of stuff. The little guys.

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When did you first realize you were an artist? 

I’ll start with this one because I feel it might resonate with some people — I was 33 years old. I have heard so many artists say, ‘Oh ever since I was a child I knew I wanted to be an artist,’ and I don’t relate to that at all. I drew as all kids draw but showed no particular talent or interest for it. As any reasonable ADHD-er I tried out dozens of different hobbies and interests, and some of those were artistic I guess, like pottery, silk painting, macramé, etc., but it wasn’t that serious. 

Then through a series of almost comically unlikely accidents I stumbled upon a website called Threadless, which at that time (around 2012) had a weekly t-shirt design contest where anyone could send in a design, people would vote, the Threadless team would consider the votes, their own taste, and commune with the Gods of T-Shirt Design, and would pick 7 designs each week that would get printed. And if they picked you, you would get a check for $2000. 

So I did it all backwards. I literally started drawing because I was mind-blown by this idea that someone would pay me money to draw a picture. It’s extra weird because I had an extremely well-paid corporate job at the time, but it was this idea of making money through doing something enjoyable or beautiful that really got me. I installed a copy of Photoshop and literally started googling how to use it. Then eventually I moved to paper and fine-point markers, and finally to pencils. I’m sort of reverse-evolving from digital to analog techniques. I know I would have never started drawing if I had to start from paper and pencils, but I also know I will never transition to being fully digital again. There is a sort of magic in paper that I haven't been able to capture with any digital device. 

If you go learn how to be a plumber, you will have zero risk of ‘not plumbing in a commercially popular style’. If you want to work at a bank you won’t need to invent a ‘unique and recognizable personal way of banking.’

Image source: Lidija Nagulov

What encouragement would you give to someone who’s struggling to get in touch with their creative self? 

You don’t have to. I think sometimes we raise art on some sort of pedestal, because, I mean, it’s pretty cool as human activities go. But that doesn’t mean we all have to be creative all the time. If you feel like you ‘should’ be doing something creative but you’d rather just watch Netflix, or go kayaking, or bake a batch of cupcakes and eat it by yourself, just do that. Making art is not morally superior to other human activities.

But if you really want to make art but are getting stuck somewhere in the process, it helps to figure out where the block might be. Here are some common ones:

Are you exhausted? If you’re working full time, taking care of your home or family, you might not have the mental bandwidth for creativity. Try to consciously clear out a chunk of time that’s reserved just for playing around with your art supplies. Defend that time ferociously, because it will be under attack, I guarantee you.

Are you intimidated by the idea that whatever you make won’t be ‘good enough’? I challenge you to create a series of Terrible Artworks. Make them awful on purpose. Make them outrageously, indecently bad. It’s totally allowed. And never forget that being terrible at something is the first step towards being kinda good at something.

Are you indecisive about what you want to make? Full of ideas for a hundred different projects that never go beyond the idea stage because imagining is easier than doing? Write them all down and stick them in a jar, then pick one out at random. Or pick the one that needs the least preparation/ investment/ fancy materials to start. Then just commit to devoting 5-10 minutes per day to it. It will work, I promise. Starting is by far the hardest part. Maybe the first time you will just lay out your supplies and not end up doing anything. Maybe the second time you will make a bunch of sketches you will viscerally hate so much you fling them immediately into the trash. But once you get going with it, it will pull you along. It's a bit like holding on to the back of a dragon. You have no idea where it's going but you're having fun.

What keeps me coming back is that there are always future drawing ideas fluttering around in my head, nudging me to let them out. They’re polite but very persistent.  

Image source: Lidija Nagulov

What keeps you going when you feel discouraged? 

Well I did spend the 3 pandemic years in heavy burnout, so…. nothing? Sometimes you need to take a break. We’re not machines, we can’t always keep producing at a predictable pace. But what keeps me coming back is that there are always future drawing ideas fluttering around in my head, nudging me to let them out. They’re polite but very persistent. 

I challenge you to create a series of Terrible Artworks. Make them awful on purpose. Make them outrageously, indecently bad.

What is the most surprising thing you’ve learned about the creative process? 

It can be so transporting, meditative, calming, transcendent, but it can also be so plodding, frustrating, exhausting and intimidating. It can be both of these at the same time. It is weirdly emotional, far more than other types of work I have done. If you’re doing it right, you’re constantly pushing your boundaries, which means you never quite know what you’re doing, which can be a very anxiety-inducing experience, sort of like riding a bicycle down a slope but also trying to build the road you’re riding on while you’re barreling down it at full speed.

You don’t get a lot of choice in what you end up making. There’s a small gremlin deep inside you that will announce what you are making, and that will be it, very little negotiating is possible with the small gremlin. If he says ‘GIANT OCTOPUS!!’ but you don’t think you know how to draw a giant octopus, you’re still drawing a giant octopus, sorry. You’ll just have to muddle through.

Your artwork reflects bits of your soul in a very intimate way, which is why you will forever have a weird love/hate relationship with it. Somehow it is simultaneously the most brilliant thing anyone has ever created and also a piece of trash that should never be looked upon by human eyes. You will keep running back to look at it, in turns with adoration and concern at all the flaws that only you can see, because other people can never know what it looked like inside your mind, so they can never understand how far from your initial target you ended up landing.

Making art is not morally superior to other human activities.

Image source: Lidija Nagulov

What is one thing you believe about creativity that most people would disagree with? 

I don't know if people disagree with this, but I think a lot of our confusion comes from using the same words — creativity, art — to mean two very different things. On the one hand, everyone is creative at some level. Anyone can explore the arts to express their fundamental humanity, to let their soul play, basically. And they should. I definitely encourage them to do so. 

But on the other hand, not everyone is cut out to be a professional artist. As a job it’s probably harder than most others. It carries more uncertainty than other professions, there’s very little job security, it requires a bit of alchemy to make it work — like if you go learn how to be a plumber, you will have zero risk of ‘not plumbing in a commercially popular style’. If you want to work at a bank you won’t need to invent a ‘unique and recognizable personal way of banking.’ If you want to be a teacher, you won't need to be one of the best teachers in the world in order to get steady employment.

So we get stuck between these two thoughts — on the one hand, we want to tell everyone how there is no such thing as a ‘bad’ artist, every person’s style is equally unique, valid and beautiful — which is true, at that ‘everyone is an artist because humans are inherently creative’ level — and on the other hand we face the reality that, to be a commercially successful artist, you actually have to be really darn good, very dedicated, and also pretty lucky. And these two truths don't always know what to do with each other. 

Never forget that creativity belongs to everyone, and brings good things to everyone. It is not reserved for artists, or for those who are ‘talented’, or those who have studied the arts, or those who can afford the most expensive supplies, or those who get paid to make it.

What is one thing this community can do to support you and your work? 

This is a beautiful question! The one thing that would mean the most to me right now is if people helped me share and promote my keffiyeh art print, which I am selling to raise funds to donate to Palestine. If you want to hear me telling more of the story of how that print came to be, where the money will be going etc, you can check out the reels on my Instagram page. You can check out the print here on my site — I spent about 80 hours drawing it, I really gave it my all. It was mentally therapeutic just to draw it, I feel like I poured all my frustration and horror and despair into those tiny little fabric lines. I'm hoping it can do some good. Art should always be a force of good in the world. 

Image source: Lidija Nagulov

Any final thoughts on creativity you’d care to leave us with?

Never forget that creativity belongs to everyone, and brings good things to everyone. It is not reserved for artists, or for those who are ‘talented’, or those who have studied the arts, or those who can afford the most expensive supplies, or those who get paid to make it. It is your right and responsibility to claim that joy for yourself, in whatever medium you fancy.

Your artwork reflects bits of your soul in a very intimate way, which is why you will forever have a weird love/hate relationship with it. Somehow it is simultaneously the most brilliant thing anyone has ever created and also a piece of trash that should never be looked upon by human eyes.

More ways to support Lidija:

• Purchase the keffiyeh art print or another of her stunning art pieces (I’ve got my eye on this notebook)

• Follow her on Instagram @lidijanagulov

• Subscribe to ArtDHD

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