Artists Passion

“In order to discover your children,� said 37-yr.-old former tennis champ, Andre Agassis, “—you have to come to terms with yourself…looking at life through the lens of a 3-year-old…your filter changes.� Kettman, Steve. It’s Better to Be Lucky than Good.Parade Magazine, September 2, 2007, p. 9.

Like retired athlete Agassis, the artist each time she or he begins a new project, must make amends, offer recompense for all the times we have not trusted ourselves. Make amends. Come to terms. The latter is about acceptance, the former forgiveness. We must who we are, have always been, yet denied, and as a result, have almost assuredly experienced emotional pain. Viewing “…life through the eyes of a 3-year-old,� does transform “…the filters…� through which we imbibe the world. It shatters illusions. And yet some of those illusions have been good.

The ability to, “…always look forward…â€? of which Agassi speaks [Kettman, Steve. It’s Better to Be Lucky than Good. Parade Magazine, September 2, 2007, p. 9.] is good for assisting the individual in attaining their goal the ascertainment of which allows one the opportunity to reach some “…terms…â€? That done, they can begin to envision their essential and most authentic self that lies beneath all the goals and accomplishments–that part of them that lives beyond youth, beauty, the misrepresentations of success, their life.

As artists we must both establish and meet various goals to achieve a level of accomplishment in whatever art form we have chosen to create out of. We must exhibit a disciplined approach to our schedule of working and creating. We must never become complacent. And yet with each journey we embark upon to manifest a new creation, we must come to terms with who we are, accept the instances in which we have failed to reach a prescribed goal, but in falling short, discovered something wherein we are made better for having veered astray.

Unlike the athlete and many other professions, the practice of one’s artistry grows more sumptuous and takes on greater texture and maturity with age. The opportunities to further our growth and development deepen and widen with the length of our practice. The transformative quality of our work is as much a reflection and measurement of the times we have surrendered to our heart’s call as the number of years of we have poured our hearts into this work.

To envision a painting, read a story or poem we crafted a year ago, five or ten, or three decades ago, brings with it the opportunity to turn back and see the world through new eyes, eyes that help in the perception of words, paints and hues laid into form in earlier times, have evolved with time—our lifetime, the years of our experience.

We carry all this with us each time we paint and write or play our music, the experience and wisdom delivered through the period of time given to creating each work—the thought and heart processes we withstood and hung onto—how enduring all, undergoing the process required to yield the work through our hands has brought us to. All this yields the person, the individual we are now.

Coming to terms.

We face the conditions of growth each time we set out to create. The art we yield enables us through time and reflection to see what has always been and remains—in us, in our art.