Desperation
Sometimes I have no idea why anyone would actually want to be an artist. Those who aren't usually just see the glamorous side: 1 million dollar royalties, art showings where everyone sips champagne and nibbles cheese, the passion of creation, etc. Most people have somehow gotten the idea that all you have to do is create that piece of art and poof, everything is wonderful.
That isn't the real picture. Most artists have day jobs and will never be able to quit them. I've spoken before (though I think I've deleted that particular post when this blog was purged) of "screaming into the void." That, to me, is what art is about. You open yourself up and scream into a seeming nothingness, hoping that someone, somewhere, will hear you. Most days you're sure that no one does. On very rare occasions, once in years sometimes, your voice reaches someone and they respond. Add on a few more years and another response, and perhaps if your lucky fifty percent of the responses will be positive.
Screaming into the void fills artists with a sense of desperation. While attending art school I felt this strange vibe. It radiated from every student and was reflected in their work. It took me awhile to realize what this vibe was. Desperation. That is the most palpable emotion you will feel anywhere artists gather and create work. Desperation to be seen. Desperation to be heard. Desperation to be understood.
They'll all smile, sing and dance, but beneath the creation and the beauty is always that sense of desperation. Will what we do be enough? Will the applause at the end be sincere? When will the next acceptance come? Or will there always be rejection? Rejection of my work, and so rejection of me?
It is fact that very few are able to project their voices loud enough to be heard above all the other desperates. Does it stop any of them from trying? A few. But art is a strange addiction. Even those quieter voices will continue adding their shouts to the darkness, wishing to be heard. I'll try to remember to listen to them as I keep adding in my own shouts and maybe we can answer each other.
That isn't the real picture. Most artists have day jobs and will never be able to quit them. I've spoken before (though I think I've deleted that particular post when this blog was purged) of "screaming into the void." That, to me, is what art is about. You open yourself up and scream into a seeming nothingness, hoping that someone, somewhere, will hear you. Most days you're sure that no one does. On very rare occasions, once in years sometimes, your voice reaches someone and they respond. Add on a few more years and another response, and perhaps if your lucky fifty percent of the responses will be positive.
Screaming into the void fills artists with a sense of desperation. While attending art school I felt this strange vibe. It radiated from every student and was reflected in their work. It took me awhile to realize what this vibe was. Desperation. That is the most palpable emotion you will feel anywhere artists gather and create work. Desperation to be seen. Desperation to be heard. Desperation to be understood.
They'll all smile, sing and dance, but beneath the creation and the beauty is always that sense of desperation. Will what we do be enough? Will the applause at the end be sincere? When will the next acceptance come? Or will there always be rejection? Rejection of my work, and so rejection of me?
It is fact that very few are able to project their voices loud enough to be heard above all the other desperates. Does it stop any of them from trying? A few. But art is a strange addiction. Even those quieter voices will continue adding their shouts to the darkness, wishing to be heard. I'll try to remember to listen to them as I keep adding in my own shouts and maybe we can answer each other.
posted by Trintara at 9:23 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home