Embracing Uncertainty Through Art
Living in a storefront studio, 1994.
Embracing uncertainty has been a constant theme throughout my journey as an artist and as a human being. As this challenging year winds down, I find myself reflecting on the state of the world and the weight it carries. Hurricanes, political upheaval, climate disasters, dear ones passing—each event seems to amplify the fragility of the systems we live in and emphasize the fragility of life itself. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, even defeated. Yet, I promised myself that I would write something positive today, because I believe that amidst all this uncertainty, art provides a way forward. It is what carries me and prevails, so maybe, just, maybe, you will feel inspired by my story.
Uncertainty has been my companion since I first chose this path. As a young artist first to pursue a degree in my family with no financial or emotional support, I had to rely on sheer determination and resourcefulness to stay the course. Working hard, whether as a bike messenger or through other physically demanding jobs, helped me cultivate the grit needed to pursue my passion. During this period, I sought wisdom in the writings of visionaries like Richard Bach, Margaret Atwood, and Alan Watts, who illuminated the importance of self-actualization and embracing life’s unpredictable nature.
The days of being “M-5” at TranServ in 1988.
Those years taught me a foundational truth: uncertainty is not the enemy. Instead, it’s a teacher. It challenges us to grow, adapt, and create. In my studio, uncertainty often fuels the creative process. Each piece I begin is a journey with no guaranteed outcome, but that openness—leaning into the unknown—is where the magic happens. Art thrives in uncertainty, just as we do when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and explore the unknown.
Now, decades later, the uncertainty I face feels bigger, more complex. It extends beyond the walls of my studio and into the larger, often disheartening world. But the lessons I’ve learned as an artist remain constant: control what you can, focus on what matters, and let creativity be a refuge and a guide. In a time when the world feels increasingly indifferent to the values of beauty, compassion, and expression, creating art becomes an act of defiance and hope.
Living with uncertainty is synonymous with being an artist. It demands courage to face the blank canvas, the unanswered questions, the untraveled path. But it also offers a freedom that few other pursuits can match—the freedom to imagine, to build, and to share something meaningful. And in this freedom lies resilience. I’ve been reflecting on the uncertainty I’m feeling in the work I’m creating right now. It’s not a new feeling—uncertainty has always been central to my process—but it feels sharper these days, maybe because of everything happening in the world. I keep returning to this image I’ve worked with before: the particle collision. I’m not sure why I’m so drawn to it, but I think it’s because it captures that tension, the way things crash together without any clear resolution. It mirrors how I’m feeling, both in life and in the studio.
Watch opening scene.
This process of revisiting older work feels like I’m pulling pieces of my past into the present, letting them collide with what’s happening now. It reminds me of when I first saw the 1982 Godfrey Reggio film Koyaanisqatsi. That film made such a deep impression on me—especially the opening imagery of a rocket launching. I remember the way everything was chaotic and swirling, particles and pieces flying everywhere, the music so captivating, all leading up to this incredible leap into the unknown. That scene has stayed with me, and so has the music by Philip Glass. There’s something in that moment, at the base of the rocket, that feels like the perfect metaphor for what I’m trying to do in my work: capture the energy of impact and the uncertainty of what comes next.
In previous work, I’ve explored how not knowing can be generative—how it forces me to stay in the moment, to let the work evolve without trying to control it too much. I’ve always been interested in those in-between moments, when everything feels unresolved and full of potential. That’s why I’m so drawn to collisions. They’re messy, unpredictable, and transformative and where change happens.
Circle Verses 1, encaustic and oil on panel, 51” x 51”, 2002
Counter Collision 1, encaustic and oil on panel, 48” x 48”, 2008
Atom Transit II, encasutic and oil on panel, 30” x 30”, 2014
Right now, my work feels like that rocket taking off— I am both reluctant and charged about it — fragments of the past colliding with the present and propelling me into an unknown future. I don’t know where it’s going, and that’s a tad unsettling, but it’s also exciting. It’s a reminder that uncertainty isn’t something to avoid; it’s the space where new possibilities emerge and often, where some of the best things happen. My job is to lean into it, to let the collisions happen, and to trust that something meaningful will come out of it.
Detail, 40” x 30” work in progress
Work in progress 40” x 30”
Collage and encaustic work in progress one of four in a collage series.
Work in progress…one of five in a series.
So, as I navigate these uncertain times, I will continue to embrace the unknown, not just as an unavoidable part of life, but as a source of inspiration. Through art, I will seek clarity, connection, and hope. And I encourage you to do the same, in whatever way speaks to you. Together, we can find our way forward, one creative act at a time. Because art DOES save lives and the more each of us leans into it, the better the world will be. I believe this. I hope that this blog has inspired you with some tools to help you move forward on your own creative path.
My and my girl Willomina
Thank you for reading my blog, it really means a lot to me. To watch my progress and stay up to date with my creative whereabouts, check out my Instagram @elisewagnerstudio.
