Every now and then I think we could all use the boost of being reminded that the issues which dog us individually, challenge all artists – regardless of experience or acclaim.
Sweet Spot ©2016 Elizabeth Fram My response to the prompt “balance” for the 2016 Journal Project. 100% successful? No. But plenty of fruitful ground covered to draw on in the future.
Listening to Antrese Wood’s podcast interview with the painter Kathleen Speranza this past week drilled that point home. There was so much that Speranza had to say, on many subjects, that was directly relatable and refreshingly honest. I felt an instant sense of camaraderie. A warning though: at more than 1-1/2 hours, the interview is longer than most. But if you can work or drive while listening, I think you’ll find it’s worth your time.
One of Speranza’s most resonate points is that you have to make a lot of art in order to glean a handful of pieces that could be considered truly successful. She assumes about a 50% success rate for herself. I love that she debunks the often mistaken impression that pretty much everything an accomplished artist creates turns out perfectly. It’s our flops that move us all forward.
In trying to steer clear of the cliché that “it’s the journey, not the destination” that is most rewarding, I still have to acknowledge that much of my emotional connection with my pieces disappears once they’re complete. I’m not exactly sure why that is other than perhaps it’s my in-process engagement that serves as the fuel to push me forward. And that, in turn, leads me to wonder, where would I be without those unexpected mid-stream “accidents” or missteps that require a response, often missing the mark or, less frequently, pushing the whole piece above and beyond to an unplanned new level of discovery. In other words, without the challenge and the risk, what is the point? If every piece turned out exactly the way we wished, wouldn’t we soon become bored?
This line of thinking allows me to fully appreciate the fact that even with devoted practice one can’t hope to get it right every time. Rather, the true gift is gaining and developing enough facility within one’s medium that it becomes the hook that lures one to keep trying.