Recently I photographed a sculpture by Northeastern Ohio artist and friend, the wildly talented Gail Trunick. (More about Gail here: www.gailtrunick.com )
Her sculpture, titled “Creativity Killers,” is the clay torso of a woman that has been imprinted with words of judgment and discouragement typical of what creative people encounter while pursuing their dreams. Phrases such as “Not worth the risk!” “It doesn’t look right!” “Don’t make a mistake!” “Follow the rules!” “You’re too old!” “You’ll never amount to anything!” “Quit daydreaming!” “Keep quiet!” are scrawled across the woman’s back and chest. She wears a weary, vacant expression and one hand clutches her abdomen and appears to inflict scratch marks.
The self-inflicted wound seems to represent the frustration and defeat she feels as she faces an onslaught of judgment and criticism. The negativity seems to have penetrated and stained her very soul.
I love all of Gail Trunick’s work, but this piece really resonated with me. It caused me to reflect upon the sometimes vulnerable nature of creative energy as well as things that poison and squelch the flow of that energy.
Maybe we don’t think of creativity as an act of bravery or vulnerability, but it takes a certain amount of risk and confidence to produce any kind of art and share it with the world. Art comes from the heart and soul, and by sharing it with others, the artist exposes intimate portions of themselves either for praise or for scrutiny. Since many artists are thin-skinned, sensitive types, scrutiny can be rough, even debilitating. While constructive criticism is absolutely necessary for artistic growth, scathing, mean-spirited critique can make an artist want to give up altogether.
Unfortunately, we live in a world where mean-spiritedness abounds, particularly on social media. Log into Facebook or any similar site, for example, and you’ll find vast numbers of folks who seem to thrive on interjecting rude, nasty comments. I have never understood this kind of meanness; indeed it’s one aspect of human nature I shy away from.
And then there are the naysayers. The ones who always know better than you and think it’s their duty to tell you your dreams are impractical, unattainable or stupid. These are the ones who throw a soggy blanket over your innovative fire. The ones who tell you not to quit your day job, or you’ll never amount to much.
There will always be someone who has something negative to say, or someone who wants to diminish and denigrate. They might tell you they’re doing it for your own good, but quite often it’s really because they, themselves, are swimming in misery and need to inflict misery onto someone else.
Such is the way of the world, I suppose, and it brings to mind the old adage: You can’t please everyone so you might as well please yourself. It’s true that artists certainly can’t please everyone with what they create, and this train of thought led me to an interesting question: Who exactly do I create my art for?
Since childhood, I have considered myself two things: an artist and a writer. From the time I could hold a pencil in my hand, I was either drawing pictures or writing stories. There was a restless energy within me that required me to constantly create, create, create in order to feel content. I am in my 40s now, and that restless feeling has never dissipated, although these days—for purposes both practical and pleasurable—my innovative energy flows primarily into the realm of photography.
So who exactly do I create my photographs for? I suppose the answer is threefold.
First, and perhaps most obviously, I create my images for the people who enjoy them. All art is subjective and not everyone will appreciate an artist’s style or message, but there will always be those who do. There are people who follow me on social media and write complimentary and enthusiastic comments, and of course it always feels nice to read those remarks. It feels great to know my hard work and vision are being validated. Imagine a symphony performed without an audience, or a book carefully penned but never intended for the eyes of a reader, and you can easily grasp how art is an interactive process with a giver and a receiver. If I brightened someone’s day by sharing a beautiful landscape image, or if I provided someone with a cherished portrait of a loved one, then my creative endeavors were a success. Maybe we can’t please everyone with our work, but the ones we do please, the ones who “get” what we do—yes, absolutely, the art is for them!
So who else do I create for?
Maybe the second part of the threefold answer is also rather obvious, but I believe all artists create for themselves. Any creative soul who has ever been “in the zone” while working on a project knows that feeling of total freedom and contentment. There’s no worrying about the past or the future when you’re in the now and loving every minute of it. There’s also that feeling of being plugged into something greater than yourself—a living, breathing creative flow of energy that grabs hold of you and carries you along for the ride as you breathe life into a project and it’s carried to fruition. Writers call this phenomenon “being visited by the muse.” I’ve felt “the muse” often while crafting fiction, and I’ve also felt it while on photographic adventures in the wee small hours of dawn or the golden hours of dusk. It’s a thrilling and exhilarating sensation when it occurs, and I do believe it’s connected to the Divine. Even when art is being fashioned from a place of pain or darkness there’s something cathartic and healing about turning trauma into something meaningful and amazing. So yes, absolutely, artists create for themselves!
Finally—speaking of a divine power—I believe we artists create because it’s what our creator fashioned us to do. I believe artists can contribute to the greater good of humankind because art truly does have the ability to change the world. Just stop for a moment and think of famous works of literature that altered and enlightened collective mindsets, or of popular music that brought people together and made them forget their differences and prejudices, even if just for a moment. Think of photographs or paintings that have educated and encouraged people to recognize and appreciate social injustices in a new way—to see things beyond their narrow perceptions of the world. For an artist, I believe there is no greater honor than to produce something that will profoundly touch humanity, and I believe it is truly a gift from the Divine to be able to do so. Now, I am not suggesting for one moment any of my photographs have the power to do anything as immense as this, but I will say that it is wonderful if one of my landscape images brings someone peace or makes them appreciate nature more. If someone sees my images and starts paying closer attention to sunrises and sunsets, or if they begin to notice and revere the way the morning light sparkles on a dewy field, then I think maybe I have done my job and left a positive mark in this vast and troubled world.
When you share your art, there will always be someone who has something negative to say, or someone who wants to weigh you down instead of encouraging you to take a leap and fly. But creativity is a spark from the Divine. So keep creating, keep shining your unique light. Along the way strive to improve and do seek constructive criticism, but ignore the meanness and the nitpickers and naysayers.
I will leave you with some recent images.
Peace.
