what does art ask of me?
I’ve asked so much of art. Given it so many expectations and demands.
I’ve asked it to be my modus operandi. My reason for being.
I’ve asked it to be the redemption for all the things in my life that have fallen apart or gone astray.
I’ve asked it to be the thing that gets me through the day.
I’ve asked it to somehow make it all worth it. To be my deliverance. The thing that could save and salvage me.
Perhaps, that was unfair of me. Perhaps, I set it up for failure. How could it ever do anything other than buckle and break under the density of everything I needed it to be? Perhaps that is too much to ask of anyone or anything.
Lately, I’ve started to wonder at the one-sidedness of this arrangement. Have I taken more than I have given in return? Have I lived up to all the expectations my art has had for me? Have I failed it more than it’s ever failed me?
Lately, I’ve started to wonder ‘what does art ask of me?’
I’ve started devoting portions of my studio time to mediation. I’ve started working slower. Working less. Taking more breaks, more often. Giving myself time to stare off and do nothing. Time to learn what it means to leave well enough alone.
I’m not sure what art asks of me ultimately. But, for now, it seems it’s asking me to take to be present. To be patient. To be well…
**special thanks to a conversation with for inspiring portions of this post.
P.S. ICAD - Day 164 - 166
It’s a good question to ask. We make the art. We are the art. What do we ask of ourselves? Are we fair in what we ask of ourselves? Do we treat ourselves / the art with tenderness and patience.
my usual question to my art is almost always - what is your message for me? what do you wanted me to know that could have been expressed only through you?