Muse Takes a Holiday

Last Thursday, Toronto’s humidex spiked up towards 50 degrees. I live close to the harbour. It’s 5 degrees cooler than the rest of the city. Despite this advantage, the air still felt like a solid mass my body cleaved through en route to an appointment. Who’d want to paint in such heat? Actually, for many years– I did. There was a time when I refused to tolerate any distraction that would interfere with my determination to be an artist. Environmental obstacles such as living in raw studio space without plumbing, heat or other amenities, were considered challenges designed to test my resolve and dedication. I regarded health delays with the same potential for unwanted surrender. Migraine headaches, PMS, the flu, dislocated shoulder– none of these were permitted to soften an almost military discipline self-imposed after graduating from art school. Even a broken heart, arguably the most sundering of one’s attention, was never allowed to have dominion over art practice. It made for a perseverance I would have otherwise struggled with as an emerging artist. Past a certain point though, it also produced some pretty shitty work. Don’t get me wrong; a single-minded focus is a valuable quality when specific goals co-exist with time constraints and unexpected pressure. The ability to shut out noise, unsolicited opinions and negative influence, the capacity to ignore discomfort– is a testament to inner strength and integrity in the right circumstances. I am grateful for systematic work habits that serve me well because of the slow, detailed way I paint. Ill-conceived ideas and experiments are processed, discarded or amended within the structured routine of a deliberate schedule.


The good thing about habitual practice is that eventually, it transforms into body memory– much like athletic training where movement becomes instinctual. The bad thing about habitual practice is that eventually, it becomes instinctual even when unnecessary. An artist who is convinced they must adhere to a strict regimen long past the point where discipline has already been established, risks jeopardizing their own creative process just as much as if they squandered any talent with erratic or casual effort. Certainly discipline is an asset in anyone’s career, especially for those of us who truly are, easily persuaded away from our work. This is not to say that pushing beyond one’s resistance due to fear of failure or other personal demons is a dubious objective. It takes enormous courage to pursue the craft after countless rejections, or in spite of what seems a futile enterprise. However, I think when one operates within a certain framework for the longest time, issues of obsession, control and redundancy lurk for opportunities to further their own agendas– even in places designed to explore freedom of expression. For some of us, there is a danger that what gradually assumes priority is not art, or creativity and its wondrous process, but discipline itself for its own sake, as a means to an end.

Aside from busy artists who strive to find time at all to concentrate on work, spending too much time on art is just as counterproductive, especially when enforced. There’s a greater concern about putting in obligatory hours, when the clock receives more looks than our work surface. Joy seems to evaporate out of our hands. Mechanical tedium, prickles of resentment, compete for supremacy against any real connection or engagement with the creative process. Artists who subscribe to rules of conduct that require less and less devotion to them, need to examine how much their sense of duty helps or hinders their growth as an artist. Eating an omelette every morning before painting is great– at least for the protein nourishment. But if you don’t even like eggs or would rather postpone breakfast until after a few hours of painting, perhaps that’s the real program worth following instead.

I would say the biggest challenge to my discipline has always been the broken heart. It’s the one thing that could’ve derailed me when I was young, insecure and groping for an identity. My dutiful insistence on working in spite of misery, revealed just how ferocious one nice Chinese girl could get. Imagine Bruce Springsteen’s early albums thundering in the background, while an endeavor, similar to a Georgia O’Keeffe flower painting, is executed so that the petals resemble gigantic claws. I appreciate the tenacity behind such a therapeutic outcome then, as much as I am thankful now, for time given over to bereavement for all kinds of losses. Life happens. No one can predict or control what will and often deserves to occupy our hearts and minds. Sometimes it’s pointless to work, due to literally, poor visibility brought on by tears. Time away from art also gives us a chance to replenish ourselves with many of those lovely things our senses were made to enjoy: the smell of fresh air, a piece of lemon bread, loquacious robins. It is in an artist’s best interest to grant themselves acts of compassion and renewal, for art’s sake, to dial down harsh, stringent procedures that may’ve once goaded them to improve and develop, but are now obsolete compared to gentler tactics that produce just as good or better results. As with all rules, after a while, it becomes important to know when to keep them, when to suspend them, and when to break them. It’s also another form of discipline to leave the work alone.

6 comments:

  1. I liked your musing and really appreciate any dialog about art practice!
    J

    ReplyDelete
  2. Love your articles, Jean. I find them most inspiring!
    Definitely keep them coming!

    Barb

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hi Jean,
    Once again you have shown your brilliance!
    Come over for dinner anytime and enjoy my garden. It is really coming along now after the renovation
    Just let me know which day is good for you.


    Frances


    Frances Ferdinands
    http://www.francesferdinands.com

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi Jean


    Your post is very timely as I struggle to come to terms with being completely empty after my show. I go into the studio only to realize that whatever I'm doing is wholly lacking in passion or enthusiasm. I've had to reluctantly accept that I need to take a little time to replenish and then many of the ideas I entertained a couple of months ago will return with gusto and I'll be excited to start creating again.


    Thanks
    Teri

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hi Teri,

    Exhibitions do that don't they? Felt the same after mine a couple of years ago. If it's any consolation, I really enjoyed your show and how you keep taking the theme that began with"Wallpaper" farther and farther along. Really liked how you actually use the wall, especially the piece that was braced in the corner. Hope you take good care of yourself.

    Best, Jean

    ReplyDelete
  6. Jean:
    Once again, you've shown great insight as well as clear thinking and writing. This characteristic of yours stands out today when so much writing about art is just self-indulgent hype and obscure b.s.
    I like your website format as it allows easy access and reading of all your essays. I once suggested that you publish these in a book, though now I suppose that this digital format is the new "book"

    Asher

    ReplyDelete