Why it Hurts to be an Artist

inspiration; the breath of art

There is something hungry in the creative mind. We who make art are conduits. We arrive to this world with the need to express what comes through us, as if to give birth. There is a particular pain that we feel if we can not bring forth the idea that clamors to be seen, known and inhaled. Sometimes we try many times. Sometimes we don’t have time and it wells up inside of us, pressing on our innards.

An idea can start with the smallest gesture, or with a color. A phrase like the tip of an ice burg that must be explored; whose depths demand our bondage until we are released by the full expression of our soundings. Like falling in love, the artist is compelled by an obsession that doesn’t let him go until manifest.

I do not think the artist can be healthy if he/she does not follow the commands. It becomes a strange sort of moral imperative-bringing birth to the idea. We don’t know where they come from, and although some of us say “mine” those of us who are honest simply say thank you.

Buying this door was such a moment; the beginning of a conversation. The Pakastani antique dealer was kind and patient. He probably knew I wouldn’t walk away. The history, the color, the joy of craftsmanship already owned me. The blue and greens of the door begin the dialogue. The wooden food container, repaired many times with care, from the mountains of a rural village is singing its song in my living room. I will have to listen for a while to learn what flower arrangement, what painting, what moments of contemplation will arise.

The idea for a painting is like this. Starting with a gesture, it won’t me go until I find the answer. Sometimes the work seems to bypass my thinking mind altogether. I dance and let it happen and sleep peacefully at the end of such a day knowing that I didn’t fight back.

I would say that the “success” of art making has more to do with responding to the command than the ideal representation of that command. Many wind eggs, to quote Socrates, are born before true birth. But the less than satisfying image does little to interrupt the passion-it is part of the process. It is more important to listen to that which passes through and to honor the idea as fully as possible than it is to think of producing a beautiful work. Beauty will be the by product of deep listening. This is what makes an artist healthy.

We will see where these blues and greens and earthy tones lead me. I’ll continue my conversation with this door until it lets me go.

Namaste,

Leslie