I don’t generally consider myself the type of person who has an ego-problem. I like to think, even, that I am somewhat humble, or at least I try to be. However, every now and then I think that someone, somewhere, with some say in the matter, decides to send me a little insurance to keep it that way. That is, every once in a while I set out to work on a painting and I am struck by how utterly and terribly awful I am.
I currently have a goal to have a couple new (smaller) paintings ready by Easter weekend to deliver to the shop, and so tonight I planned to really dig in and get some work done. I think that I actually did the visual world a great disservice tonight, as every time my brush touched the canvas I made the world a little bit uglier. I am not exaggerating. Frustrated, I picked up my sketchbook and an odd assortment of mark-making tools (red sharpie, black prismacolor, graphite pencil and some scrap-booking pen) and found that the only thing I was able to do was scribble, outline those scribbles in red, and then scribble some more. I was a kindergartener. Maybe younger.
Earlier today I had a training for work and spoke with another woman who is also an artist. She got me very excited about possibly collaborating on a mural this summer. My curiosity about murals has been mounting for a while now, so our conversation seemed fated, divinely placed, in some way. After tonight, though, I really must reconsider. I’m not talking about just reconsidering the mural idea, I’m talking about reconsidering it all. After tonight I think I should do everyone a favor and retire as a painter. Trust me on this.
4 Comments
don’t give up breena, you’re amazing. (i love the owl painting you gave me)
I have been there. And will probably be there again at some point in the near future. Here’s what I always ask myself that helps: what would I do with all the time I spent creating if I weren’t creating? Usually, I can’t come up with an answer. And if I do, I do that thing for a while until the urge to create comes back. If you’re a true artist (which I know you are), it always comes back. See, I’m a creative girl. Not a protest at all, is it?
Hi! I clicked the wrong button and accidentally stumbled onto your blog and ended up reading a little. I read what you wrote and was touched and I wanted to share a few thoughts for what they’re worth. I’ve struggled with similar feelings in the PhD program I’m in at the moment and in other areas of my life. Here are a few thoughts that have helped me:
We are all given talents of varying degrees. I am a religious person and you seem to be too, so I’ll direct you to Matthew 25:14-30. I read an article recently related to that subject that was published by my church and here are a few quotes from that article that were helpful to me:
“…if we measure our progress or base worth on being equal or ahead of someone else, we will be like the talented young writer who gave up his art because “everything’s already been said better than I could ever say it.” Great works of literature, art, and music would not have been produced if others had taken such an attitude.” Anya Bateman, “Comparatively Speaking,” Ensign, Jan 1984, 63
“The only competing we need to do is with ourselves. Although we don’t know all the reasons why we have differences in degrees of talents or attributes, the important thing to understand is that we are individuals moving along our own individual roads. When we stop competing with others, we can actually increase our progress. We won’t be so discouraged—and we will be able to be more productive. We can try to be better than we were yesterday, last week, last month, or last year.” Anya Bateman, “Comparatively Speaking,” Ensign, Jan 1984, 63
“The message in the parable of the talents is clear. What we are given is not as important as what we do with it. The servants who were given five and two talents were both commended because they had built on what they had. The servant who was rebuked was the one who buried the talent given him. (See Matt. 25:14–30.) “ Anya Bateman, “Comparatively Speaking,” Ensign, Jan 1984, 63
So I wanted to ask, if you stop creating your art, would you be like the servant in Matthew 25 – afraid that your talent is not good enough and hiding it away? I’ve been tempted to do the same, many times. To give up; to quit. I think we all have. You have been given talents and only you and God know their true worth, value, and potential. Of course, it’s hard to brush aside the comments and opinions of others, particularly when they are, as you mentioned, “someone with some say in the matter”. I know because I struggle with that too. However, ultimately, that’s just one person’s opinion…why let it derail your hopes, your dreams, your optimism? How many great artists over the centuries have been told their work is not good enough or not liked in one way or another? My understanding is many of them. You have talents that have already developed and improved and could develop and improve many times greater still. Why bury them?
Dear Breena,
Can you at least make me a white blob with some legs and call it a sheep before you up and quit?