Meditation on Painting, Part 1
"Day Roars In", 11x14, Oil, Private Collection
Painting is a beautiful ghost
And I am her stooge;
An eye and a hand in service to a flirt, an apparition.
[-from my own writings]
What is painting, and why do I do it? I’ve been seeking answers since the beginning, but never as much as now, twenty years into it.
Sometimes I ask others the same question. The variety of awkward and syrupy answers is funny. Try it. Try it with yourself. If right now you were in a broadcast interview with Barbara Walters and she wanted to know why you spend your day or your spare time putting paint on canvas, what would you say?
Write it down. Listen to yourself. Maybe your truest answer is “I don’t know.”
There have been times I desperately wanted to sell work, and the pitches I gave buyers were sappy. Why hurt my conscience like that? If the only answers sound pathetic, maybe it’s time to reevaluate. I owe it to myself to know “me” better.
Can artists live a half-hearted life? Absolutely. Painting is difficult, and so, like in all occupations, there is a wide road that leads to mediocrity. What keeps me going is knowing myself and giving my best effort each day.
Here are some of the truths about painting that keep it real:
Painting involves bringing order and chaos together in balance so to challenge and satisfy the artist soul. More simply put, painting utilizes my natural attraction to drawing, design and color, and ultimately gives me a calm satisfaction even if I’m unstable in the process.
Painting is visual language with which I can convey observed information or imaginary thoughts. I am learning a language! There are people on the other side of the world who upon seeing my painting would feel communion with me because of what is shared through visual language.
Painting is work. It’s difficult work and it’s good. As my aesthetic taste grows, the struggle grows. Sometimes so big that it threatens to swallow me up. If I wanted my years of painting to be peaceful, I would never go to a great museum. I would stay in a bubble and never compare myself.
Painting is bread. It allows me to support my family because occasionally I find people that connect with my work and want to buy it. I don’t give them a fake sales pitch, I just wait for the right ones to come along.
Do you like hearing it put in such a reductionistic way or does it make you uncomfortable? Is the choice to paint truly as romantic as some artists explain it? It’s worth facing these questions.
Stay on the narrow road and pour yourself into good, honest reasons. Society needs to hear the real you. It makes us all better people and culture grows deep roots in the soil of sincerity.
[I’m currently working on a book on the philosophy of painting. I write to learn. Any input on what I’ve written will be very helpful. Thanks.]

Comments
13 Responses to Meditation on Painting, Part 1
Leave a Comment