“That doesn’t make any damn sense.”
“Ugh. I know but it is what it is.”
“Well, I can’t wrap myself around it. Explain this to me differently, there has to be a way for me to understand: You paint everyday, you like what you paint, you’re challenged by what you paint, but there is nothing in it? What do you mean?”
“Okay fine but it makes me feel like a dick which means I’m probably acting like one, but when you compliment my artwork, or anyone in general, it makes me appreciative but at the same time it doesn’t amount to much because there’s nothing of me in it.”
“Nope. Keep trying.”
“Let me finish then!…So, would you agree that most artists are trying to express themselves in some way through their artwork?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay good. Then can you understand that sometimes successful artwork doesn’t express anything from the artist? Like, it’s just an easy looking landscape that evokes nothing.”
“Sure sure. Go on.”
“I am. There are plenty of paintings that I’ve done that I enjoy doing. Whether it’s the composition, or the colors I get to use, or even the difficulty behind it. Like a challenging portrait of a parent and their child, or someone’s dog that passed away where I need to put the spirit of the animal in the pictures. Those are good and challenging and I enjoy that because it breaks up the monotonous routine.”
“But?”
“But, there isn’t a part of me in that painting. There is no soul. There is only skill and experience from my hands. As an artist, the dream is to produce a piece of work that takes something I feel so strongly, something that keeps me up at night, something that distracts me from everything, that one emotion or thought, to take that and put it into a piece of work that reaches out to make you feel the same thing. My dream is to create something that stops the onlooker from walking by; to a point they get sore from standing and must sit on the floor with such attention they lose track of time. I want to provide a piece of work that not only expresses a piece of my soul but reaches out and touches your soul, and in doing so, adds your energy, your attention, your past, your soul to it as well. Where it comes something beyond what I created.”
“…so why don’t you do that?”
“I don’t know how, that’s the problem.”
“Have you tried?”
“So many times.”
“But what does that have to do with compliments on your work?”
“Because that compliment sends a reminder to my brain that I can do better. That it’s not my best. That their compliment is better suited for a piece of work that holds more value. And it reminds me that I haven’t produced that yet and then, that I don’t know how.”
“Yeah you’re being a dick. They’re just being nice. Besides, they just like the painting.”
“I know I know! But think of it this way: you’re a musician and you’ve been working on a composition with every bit of your soul in it but along the process you create a jingle to make ends meet. You don’t associate yourself as a musician with that jingle because everything you are is wrapped up in this big composition piece that is not yet finished; but you now have people coming up telling you they love your jingle. So you’re being complimented on a piece you don’t even recognize and all you want to do is tell the people that your true art is more worthy. But you can’t because you don’t want to be rude. And you aren’t sure how to finish the ending of the composition so you don’t even know if you’ll be able to share the piece with them, anyway.”
“That sounds…complicated."
“Now you’re getting it.”
“So why do you even bother painting smaller things like this? Is there a strong emotion to this scene?”
“Honestly, no. I like Japanese woodblock prints and was inspired to paint something resembling the style. I still get excited and inspired to paint things even if I haven’t put together my ‘magnificent composition’, so to speak.”
“I’ve gotta tell ya, I’m glad I’m not an artist. I kind of see what you’re saying, but I’m still a little confused.”
“Yeah, I get that…there are many times that I wish I wasn’t an artist either.”
“Have you ever thought about quitting?”
“Every damn day. But I can’t escape that any more than I can stop thinking. It’s who I am. Good or bad. Plague or blessing.”
“Well, I like your work regardless of how much of your soul is shed doing them, buddy. I’m glad you’ll never stop. I won’t stop complimenting them either.”
“Thank you. That’s helpful. Even if I don’t know how to say it.”