A road to happiness

Oh, scissors. Good old kitchen scissors. Cute crafty scalloped scissors. An old, rusty pair of scissors. My favourite, tiny, orange needle scissors. At least ten pairs, permanently on my desk in a kitschy ceramic swan vase. I can tell you how they changed my life (cause they did), how they calm my mind, bring me joy… I can tell you how they have given me purpose. I can tell you how I, eventually, gave up my my full-time corporate job for them in May 2021. So I will tell you. The Story of my Scissors.

It is April 2019, I am 27 years old and I’ve just quit my full-time job. I decide to sign up for an Easter course at Central St Martins because I want to become a pro at Photoshop. I believe I know exactly what I want: being able to turn all the crazy collage ideas I have, into amazing art.

We are with seven in the classroom - other students come prepared with Wacom tablets and Apple pencils. My backpack is filled with magazine papers. While I sort them, our teacher comes over and asks me what I am doing. "Oh, I just want to photoshop with these!" I say, nervously. I am slightly embarrassed but explain her how I am always inspired by these beautiful old, retro papers and need to understand Photoshop in order to make my crazy dreams come true. She frowns for a second but allows me to use the scanner in our daily break. I skip the hour lunch that whole week to scan in as much as I can.

We work hard - we multiply seagulls, we digitally cut out roses, we adjust colours and shapes and apply filters, we learn how to create hair-like brushes and erase freckles from people's cheeks and noses. I am having fun, but I am impatient. All I want, is to rework my old paper cut outs. To collage! To work on my ideas!

It’s the end of the course week and we have the afternoon to work on our personal projects. My peers sweat over graphic film posters and slick brand logo’s, I am digitally cutting out a 1960's ad. Our teacher observes us, comments, helps where needed. We have our lunch break and she asks me to stay for a chat. "Why did you pick this course Laura?" she says. I explain her how I’ve been creative from a young age, how I wish I’d went to art school, how I felt unfulfilled at my last jobs, how I feel it’s now too late to have a creative career. However, how I have finally quite my job, how I have all these ideas but feel I can't execute them and I just know being able to work with Photoshop will be my way to happiness. She laughs - “No”, she says. “Scissors, Laura, are your way to happiness”.

And she is right.

We fast forward to June 2020. I am back at a full-time job to pay the rent. My lockdown desk at home is a messy combination of laptops and headsets during the week, paper scraps, glue sticks, scissors and old magazines in the weekends. Although the job is not my dream, I don’t feel unfulfilled - I have now found my craft. As soon as we hit Friday 6pm, I feel my body relax and energy return. The laptop can be stored away, the scissors can come out.

I have tried so many ways of describing the feeling but they all don’t seem to cut it: I love what I do. I need, what I do.

I have never, ever, felt my heart being so full, my head being so clear, my worries feeling so far away. The simple act of sliding my scissors through those different textured papers, carefully sourcing beautiful images, giving them a new purpose, giving them a new life. I don’t tear, I don’t rip, I don’t fold: I cut. My art is nowhere without my scissors. Photoshop is long out of the window, to h*ll with digital cutting and pasting. Paper, scissors, glue - that’s all I need.

In the year that follows I turn cups of water into unknown seas, cricket boys will swim in soup, colours, patterns and vintage kitsch dance through my collages. I make and make and make. I cut paper scissors with my scissors, - I bring my scissors with me to the park, on the train, the plane, with me to Spain! I start to sell my first prints to friends and family. I take on commissions. I built a website, sign up for makers markets, launch Christmas cards.

It is May 2021, I am thirty years old and I know it is finally time. I can no longer ignore it. These scissors belong on my desk, permanently. They are my future. No more waiting till Friday 6pm. I hand in my notice and declare myself a full-time creative, ready to rock the world with my happy, fun, recycled collage art. I think about my teacher, 2 years ago. Yes, I think.

Scissors, are my way to happiness.