This piece was first published on http://www.thisfragiletent.com but it seemed relevant to some of our previous discussions about seatree!
Here is my contention; being an artist can have a serious impact on your mental health.
There is a compulsion that drives people who are creative to create. Those of us who find space, finance and time to pursue this compulsion are truly blessed. We are living the dream, right?
But our art, whatever the medium, is a fickle thing. As soon as we think we have it, it flies away. Sometimes it seems that what we are seeking is always just beyond reach.
There are obvious reasons for this, to do with the nature of art, its indefinable qualities and the value we place upon it. How do we know that what we are creating is good? And even if it is good, why is it not better?
Perhaps it is about recognition- but this is dangerous. Few will be honest to our faces.
Perhaps we need to rely on people we trust?
But these people will typically be our peers- making their own art. Art that will be different to ours. Better.
Perhaps then it is about commercial success- the degree to which people buy what we make. But that too is a fools game, for the commercial world has many rules of success that have nothing to do with excellence, or depth of meaning.
Even those who have known a measure of success (however we measure it) tend to be riven with doubts about their ability to repeat it. If a potter has made the perfect pot, a musician the sweetest song, a painter a picture that brings people to tears, the expectancy of everyone is that they will simply do it again. They will have no idea that for each piece of perfection, there have been a hundred pieces that have been mediocre. We start to believe that lightening struck, but can not strike twice.
I think that art arises from unfulfilled yearning. From a longing for encounters with something deeper, something more meaningful, perhaps something beautiful. For many of us, there is a deep satisfaction discovered in process- in the shaping of our raw material. For some too, there is orgiastic release in performance, but ultimately, once the work is done, we have to return to the ordinary mess of our ordinary lives, which are occupied not just by the me-centric nature of creativity, but have to embrace the compromise of community.
If these words are resonating with you, then perhaps you are my sister, my brother, in the family of Almost. Almost finished. Almost good. Almost satisfied.
Perhaps though, as a new year unfolds, it is time to show our artistic selves a little of the compassion we might offer to others. I wrote the list below to myself, and for the rest of the Almosts.
No piece of art is ever perfect. We will all fail more than we succeed.
An unfinished piece is not a piece at all.
What value have the opinions of others anyway? If art is truly great, it will divide opinion almost by definition.
Create first from your heart and soul. It might not be the way to riches, but it is your only truth.
Fear kills creativity. I don’t mean performance anxiety, I mean fear of failure. They are not the same thing.
Money fears are particularly destructive. How much do you need, really?
Sometimes you can, sometimes you can’t. It is the human condition, so get over it. You are not an art robot.
Do it anyway, because what else is there?
Rather than hoping for encouragement, find others to encourage. Regard this as penance for your own self-centredness. Let this create connection.
Collaborate when you can, but don’t be afraid to say no.
There are lots of things more important than art- even though it might not seem like it at times.
Art is not bigger than God for example.
But God can be found in art.