There is this mistaken assumption that all artists enjoy the
act of making art. That it’s always fun. That we are channels for the divine.
Mostly the first two.
I think this is one of the misnomers that bothers me most.
Making art, professionally, is hard. It is always hard. That’s actually part of
why I am so fierce about it, because of that constant challenge. Being an
artist means being constantly poked at and picked apart. It means entering an
intensely competitive world where there are no clear boundaries, rules, or
definitions of success. Making art is a constant push to find what is new, what
opens a new window of perception, what blows peoples minds.
When people retire and their doctor tells them to paint for
relaxation, that is not the kind of art that I’m talking about. When a teenage
girl makes a painting of rage after a break up, that is not it. When my
ex-boyfriend makes a sweatshirt that looks like a shark. Nope, not what I’m
talking about. I’m not saying it’s not art. I wish that everyone understood
that art is a huge term. Huge. It covers so many different ways of making and
seeing. All of the practices I just mentioned are valuable in so many ways, but
they are not the kind of art making that I do. I don’t usually call them art, because the
term is far more loaded for me.
What I do is informed by the whole of history, including the
history of contemporary art, the depth and breadth of what art has been since
1960. What I do is of me, but not just as expression. It contains my feeling
but it is not catharsis. I use my mind to build it but it is not just concept. It
is not just craft. It is incredibly difficult to define, and any definition I
throw out may sound like an insult to the hundreds of other ways that people
are creative in the world. I embrace every way of making and everything that
reminds people of the value of art.
I make because I have to, because when I can’t for more than
a few weeks I feel caged. I make because I have invested hundreds of thousands
of dollars and thousands of hours of time in learning and practicing this way
of thinking and seeing. It changes me every day and I seek out that change. I
know that my life and the lives around me would be less without it, without
that sense of possibility.
I say all of this because, I think we artists suffer from
some sort of extraordinary guilt complex. Guilt that we don’t spend enough time
in the studio, guilt that we don’t go to enough shows, guilt about how long it
takes us to finish a project. I wonder if culturally we are taught that we
should want to do this all the time. That we are lucky. That it is a gift to be
able to do this at all. That it is a privledge, because art is not a necessity
and we are not feeding anyone, we are not saving lives, we are not practical,
we are not contributing to the gross national product, we are not properly
representing our country, or our families, or any ideal that has been held and
cherished for hundreds of years. We carry all of those voices into the studio,
because we hear them and have to actively decide to listen to ourselves instead
every single day.
We are saving lives. We are representing freedom. We are
speaking our truth. This isn’t just a career. It’s not a craft project or a way
to make the world beautiful. Art is a reminder of what is valuable in a world
that moves too fast to understand what it is doing and why.
I am proud of every artist I know for making the time to make
art, whenever they can. It’s ok to have some ice cream and sit around for a few
hours first. That’s part of making art too.
Image by James Ensor
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