For this month’s spotlight on a local creative, Exposed catches up with Helion Art about choosing new paths, Sheffield inspirations and exploring matters of existentialism through art.
How did your artistic journey begin?
I’ve been creating and drawing since I was a kid, but until 2020 I was on a completely different trajectory. I had gotten a master’s degree, was working in a law firm and planning to go into policy-making to counter human trafficking. Heavy, I know, but the pandemic came along we all had our collective existential crisis and I decided to stop fighting the burnout.
I thought while the world was closed down I might as well practice as much as possible and reset my focus to things that make me happy. I got lucky and now my work is my passion and no one minds that I’m weird.
Does living in Sheffield influence your artistic style and creative process?
It definitely does. Trying to be an up-and-coming artist you are always walking the line between creating the work that spills out of you and making art that your audience will consume. It helps a lot that I love Sheffield; I love the trees, the Peaks, the people and the vibes of the city. It’s not hard to be influenced by the art scene here.
Are there any specific themes or messages you like to explore through your art?
I was the kid in school with undiagnosed autism which left me feeling unable to properly fit in ways I couldn’t put my finger on. So, I spent a lot of time thinking about people, what makes humans people, because I really wasn’t sure. Being someone who could happily think alone for hours, I eventually became interested in existentialism. What is the sensation of existing? What lies beyond our perception? What do flowers look like to the insects that can see colours that are invisible to us? I try to channel those questions into my work; there is a humour in the surreal and absurd that I really enjoy playing in. When people look at my work I want them to feel delighted, if a little confused.
What mediums and techniques do you enjoy working with the most, and why?
Very recently I’ve been getting into linocut carving and printing; I love the textured analogue experience of carving a relief and printing it. After being spoiled by the freedoms of working digitally, working in such a restrictive medium has been a lovely challenge. Having unlimited layers to fill and an undo button lets you rely on an abundance of detail to make up for your technical shortcomings. But when carving a relief, every stroke has to be perfect or it has to be skillfully hidden. It feels more vulnerable because there is nowhere to hide, but I enjoy the danger I guess.
What have you been working on recently?
Recently, I’ve been putting together a colouring book of my favourite line works, but it’s been in the finishing stages for what seems like forever now. Most of my work has been on hold since I broke my ankle in March. Turning your joint into gravel and losing your independence makes freelance work pretty impossible. Beyond that, for a long time after my injury, I was struggling to find any joy in being creative. Even though I could still technically draw, pulling something beautiful out of yourself when you’re in constant pain… it doesn’t want to come out; it felt barbed.
Most recently, I did manage to finish one piece though. After not creating for two months, the sad teapot lady just flowed out of me all at once, like a splinter that popped out on its own. It was very satisfying.
How do you approach the process of translating ideas or concepts into artwork?
I have quite a magpie brain. There is always a list of pretty things I want to draw in my head: tattoos I’ve seen, a cool stained glass window or that weird caterpillar I saw on a hike. A lot of the time I just wait to see what my brain comes up with while I’m not paying attention; I’ll see a weird vintage perfume bottle in a junk shop, take a picture of it, and six months later, I’ll see the photo in my phone and I know what the print looks like. Spontaneous ideas are always the better ones.
How do you balance your personal artistic visions with client commissions or commercial projects?
I try to use every commission or project as an opportunity to exercise a muscle I might avoid in my personal work. My aim is to learn something and become a more well-rounded and flexible artist; so, in a way, I am never not working on my own artistic vision. For example, working so closely with Triple Point Brewing, I had to get very good at drawing water. While I wouldn’t have necessarily chosen to spend hours detailing two streams of beer flowing into a glass, I can now do clean lines and satisfying curves quite easily. I can definitely see the traces of the commissions I’ve done in my personal work.
Another thing that helps me maintain the balancing act is developing and appreciating the creative relationship I have with clients. One of the main reasons I love taking commissions is that, for many people, bringing a creative thought to life and transforming it into a fully realised piece of art is beyond their reach. But that doesn’t mean they lack creative ideas that want to be realised. By collaborating with clients to unravel their vision and create a unique piece for them, they get to express themselves in ways they normally can’t. I find it a really rewarding experience; creating an image from nothing is a skill honed through years of dedicated practice, but it is also a gift.
How do you stay motivated and inspired as an artist, and what advice would you give to aspiring artists?
Taking a break from creating, relaxing and letting your brain cook on your projects without your input every once in a while. You’ll come back and the thing you were struggling with will just click. I always plan a long break into my time scales for projects, sorting out what is and what isn’t a dead-end in your process with fresh eyes is essential.
Beyond that, I think diversifying my creative inputs and outputs is really important to maintaining a healthy and inspired work balance. For me, being a consistent artist is all in the head game. I’m always keeping tabs on my creative energy pool and managing my projects around it. Dipping in and out of different projects isn’t a bad thing if it means everything keeps moving forward.
As for advice, as an autistic adult, I definitely struggle to talk to clients. The imposter syndrome flavour of not feeling like a fully socialised human is difficult and I often pitch with a freezing cold ball of lead burning a hole in my chest. My advice is to be relentless even when you don’t believe in yourself; it’s okay to not feel confident walking into a pitch, but you’ve got to do it anyway