Wednesday, May 9, 2007

wall of paint

There is an artist I love most of all. I consider him the best and many others agree.

Yet one day he told me he got really depressed. The way he said it, I knew it was true. He also once told me that he knew every pain and hurt as regards painting that one could feel. This was after I revealed to him that despite whatever insistent, vibratory joy one may detect in my work, I’ve experienced a lot of hurt in my life as a painter.

And yes, I experience it in a way I do not with say, photomontage. Maybe it’s the level of expectation and history. The wall of paint is like a Berlin Wall sometimes, this massive will of brutal history. It’s funny to think of it that way too, I know, because so much of the world just thinks it’s all about beauty, pleasure or aesthetics. And I’m not saying that those three things aren’t paramount either.

But if you are the one who gave your life to paint, the reality of it is so much more beyond how the paint gets across the universe (I was going to say canvas, but it’s much bigger than that!). We have really good days within what can be difficult years.

This all came up to me today because I was reading the exchange at Tire Shop, about individual struggles and doubts when it comes to handing your life over to this, especially in retrospect. One day you’re no longer young. You’re not just faced with the money issue, but also constantly measure the worth of your sacrifice/achievement (since everyone else is, if you’re lucky).

2 comments:

harold hollingsworth said...

feeling a bit of a[the] burden myself tonight, painting as the sun comes up here in my studio...

mr_dopestar said...

Thank you for your nice message. Your post is very well written and I can perfectly understand what you meant...

See you someday !

mr_dopestar from Art is Alive