My Life is My Art My Art is My Life: a letter to the young artist

dear young artist,

it feels strange and awkward in a way, for me to be writing to you because though i may have just turned gold, i feel like a young artist myself. and feel young, too, in respect to practice and calling and purpose. i have so much to learn.

i suppose that is my first point. as i grow into my art and practice it more, a feeling of competency and arrival will probably never accompany it. maybe i will always feel lacking, not good enough. maybe i will not feel capable. but why should i wait for that feeling to catch up with my reality? there is just too much to paint and make art of! i should not wait. i have that realization now, well, not just now, a little while back already.

i have always waited to feel qualified, certified or professional, i just have to tell myself: stop. and started to give myself permission to work from my smallness (figurative. bwahahaha!), from my humility and my humanity.

i will probably never feel like a real artist. it is okay. in the meantime, there are a bunch of messy, failing, brave strugglers doing the work of art - i welcomed myself to join them when i became and felt ready.

speaking of being human, i always remind myself i am one. i have limits and these limits can be a gift if i am willing to see them that way. after all, i started as a baby myself, tiny and helpless. a few times when i was younger, i thought the sky is the limit and if i just had more time / energy / talent, i can get there one day.

the sky is only the limit if i am in an airplane. because i am human. my feet will nearly always be planted firmly on the ground. that is where they must be for me to do the kind of work that keeps me touchable, broken, but somehow at the same time, unbreakable.

creativity does not involve a magic potion. the great artists i admire do not have a special visiting from a fairy muse. they do not wake up feeling inspired or breathing out sparkly dust of wisdom and talent.

they wake up needing coffee and a shower just like me. and then they get to work. and often their work looks like a lot of hair twirling, window staring, and procrastinating. but they do not give up. they persevere through the boredom and the discouragement and distractions and they are most of all, willing to create awful art.

there is no such thing as bad art, only unfinished art. when i am in my room with the door shut, i create ugly work. make it messy. embarrass myself. finger paint. write bad lines, poems, write horrible sentences.

i stopped waiting for the muse. she is not coming. there is only me, but that is actually more than i might realize. i am made by design by his image and given a job to do. there are things i am good at and there are things i am not good at. i delight in his companionship in the midst of both.

i know when i begin to create i might be tempted to avoid seeking out the work of artists i admire. i made this mistake when i first started out, fearing their voices would be in my head and i would not know the difference between them and me. now, i do the opposite of that. i learn the value of being taught how to do something. i let myself be a learner.

first, i learned by copying. only after that can i make my own. i soaked in the art of those i admire and let them inform my work like a great cloud of witnesses. i let them mingle in my head and have tea with one another. i listen in as they trade ideas and inspiration. i read several books at once and let them spar. the art i make as a result of sitting under their influence will be richer for it.

if my art is writing, i read. if my art is music, i listen. if my art is painting or dancing or sewing or cooking - i watch, handle, touch, taste. i stopped trying so hard to be original. it got me stuck inside my own head and my work became self-indulgent and self-centered. i work instead to be generous.

i will even take it further and say - i long began to see the artistic potential in, not only my own art, but in the farmer, the longshoreman (whatever that is) and the physicist. they may not identify themselves as artists, but the work they do is art just the same. i respect them. learn from them. ask them questions. and this i always remember: my greatest identity is not artist, but child. my desire to create is good and comes from heaven, but this desire is not all i am. even good things cast shadows.

finally, i remind myself often that my art is not just a gift to me, but from The Force through me to the world.

feeling guilty or self-conscious about my art will not get me anywhere. those thoughts have only the power i give them. i start to see them for the shadows they are. and then, i get to work and make art.