Layers: Art, Memory, and Vulnerability
As I sit down to write, doubt gives me pause. What if I have nothing to say? What if no one reads this?
One powerful lesson that I have learned from making art is to push yourself to create anyway. Whatever negative reaction I’ve imagined is far worse in my head. In addition to living this way in my creative life, I am also attempting to carry this lesson into my life outside of art. I am learning to accept discomfort.
Working primarily in abstract seascapes and intuitive mixed media, Jaynia uses palette knives and brushes to explore movement, memory, and place. She returned to her art practice in 2022 after a career spanning creative writing, educational publishing, web design, and nonprofit work.
Where the Walls First Appeared
Embracing my vulnerability has been one of the most challenging parts of my life. Putting walls up has stopped me from doing more things than I can count. Pinpointing where this started and how it developed would take more time than I have - and probably a good therapist. From a young age, I learned to look out for myself. This, at least to me, meant putting up walls and keeping people at arm's length. And even when I tried to put myself out there, I wasn’t doing it wholeheartedly. I tried out for the camp musical and was given a non-speaking role because I wasn’t loud enough. I was cut from the cheerleading squad because I didn’t smile enough. Over time, these rejections taught me to stop trying.
We spent a lot of time on the cape with family and this picture was taken at the coast.
Writing as Refuge
In my twenties, I got my B.A. in English. I found it easy to hide behind writing. Fiction allowed me to disguise my own experiences through imagined characters. In college, I also began my journey in art, taking ceramics and oil painting. I spent hours in the studio creating and finishing paintings, and I brought work home. I found it much more difficult to hide behind art. It is out there for people to see - literally, and there is no real way to speak about it in the third person.
I spent hours in the studio creating and finishing paintings, and I brought work home. I found it much more difficult to hide behind art.
Materials as Memory
During my college classes, we used gessoed corrugated cardboard as our canvas, and I still “practice” this way in my home studio.
It feels like bringing in my history. In addition to cardboard, I paint on book pages. This feels like a consistent thread for me, bringing writing and painting together. Sometimes the pages are visible through the paint, and other times they are hidden underneath. This feels much like my journey.
Life took over, and I opted for a long break from creativity to raise my family. As my children got busier and busier, I realized I was missing some of myself. So, with my newfound time, I signed up for local painting classes and quickly found some parts of me that were missing. I welcomed getting to know new people, new stories. I sought out constructive criticism from classmates because it was a protected space. It felt like support as we pushed and pulled our paintings to get the result we individually sought. It felt creative, alive, and safe.
I Began with Baby Steps
As my art began to take over my living room, I debated between stopping completely and trying to sell some work. I started with baby steps, posting on Instagram, just the painting at first, and got a few “likes” from my family. And then, I sold something. I was creating art for myself, but designing a piece that a stranger liked enough to put on her wall was an incredibly vulnerable feeling. I knew I didn’t want to stop.
Taking the Risk to Be Seen
I became bolder and tried to work through the uncomfortable bits, the vulnerability, by telling myself I would do one thing out of my comfort zone each month. And then I stuck to it. This has included reaching out to galleries to hang a painting or two, entering an art show, contacting a nonprofit to donate a painting, and writing a blog post. Taking these risks has made me feel more motivated and courageous. The overall response has been positive and has emboldened me to take these risks.
I interpret this as a process in which one can transform perceived weaknesses (my own) into assets. Instead of viewing flaws, past hurts, or sensitivities as negatives, this quote encourages me to see these as material for meaningful growth. Embracing my vulnerability makes me feel empowered and more self-accepting. Acknowledging my own vulnerability isn’t a sign of being broken; it can be a sign of self-understanding and strength. By having the courage to recognize these vulnerabilities, I have developed greater self-awareness, which adds depth and layers to my work.
Top: Exploration into Blues, solo exhibition at the Dolphin Gallery, May 2024.Bottom: Soft Horizons: Paintings of Sea and Sky, solo exhibition at the Dolphin Gallery, September 2025.Life Lessons
“Creating art has taught me other life lessons. If you don't like something, you can paint over it.”
If you want parts of it, you can add and subtract, editing it until you get to a different place. If you have reached the end, you can let it go. And then you can begin the process all over again.
I have struggled with being vulnerable. I often have walls up and combat compliments with sarcasm. Art has helped me be more aware of this and to consciously lower these walls. People want to know the stories behind the art, and therefore, I have to be able to talk about them. They want to know my inspiration and my ideas. I dropped a painting off with a collector recently, and she said, “So tell me about this painting.” And I did!
Practicing Courage
Embracing this new growth has been challenging but rewarding. I encourage everyone to create the art, start the business, take the risk, write the article, and even publish the blog post. I don’t intend to go back to the place with my walls. Putting myself out there as an artist has been a positive experience, and I have met supportive and interesting people along the way. So I plan to continue pushing myself, putting myself out there, and creating anyway.
Jaynia Matherwiez is a Massachusetts-based artist and Contributing Writer to Artypants Magazine. Deeply influenced by time spent along the New England coast, her work draws on the colors and rhythms of the ocean.For inquiries or commissions: jmatherwiez@yahoo.com | www.matherwiezart.com | Instagram @matherwiezart