Art with Purpose

I describe my art as being driven by a strong sense of purpose. I teach other artists to find theirs. But what does that even mean? And is it always a good thing?

I suppose it depends on the purpose. Consider Leni Riefenstahl and Jane Campion—both brilliant filmmakers (in different eras) whose movies evoke strong emotions. The first lent her talent to the Nazi agenda; the second retains ownership of her creative vision. Riefenstahl muscled her characters into propagandized stories; Campion follows hers into a deeper understanding of truth. In each case, the art is powerful. But each is driven by a very different purpose.

So, I guess that’s not the only north star in my work.

For a long time, I painted mostly to get out of pain. The style of a painting didn’t matter to me—only the need to express myself. It wasn’t exactly art that fits above the sofa. Or in a commercial gallery. But it meant everything to me—and sometimes, the work affected people deeply. I loved seeing my art connect with something deep and meaningful inside other people. It tapped into my lifelong desire to make a positive impact with my work.

As I healed, I started to overlay my personal experiences onto the pain of the world, looking for intersections, solutions. The imagery incorporated outside references and responded to other artists’ work. I shared opinions. I took classes and built my skills. I lost people. Old wounds re-opened and the grief wore away anything that wasn’t important anymore. The work grew into a larger quest for spiritual connection, healing, and love. I realized I’m driven to fulfill my creative potential because so many in my family tree could not.

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That’s where I am now. I mine my personal experiences to relate to the universal journey. I share it to feed others’ souls. It’s what I have to give to the world—not just creative products, but a creative life.

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So, for me, art is not just about purpose: but a deep, spiritual direction that’s shaped by personal experience and serves love, connection, and truth. Whether I’m painting hummingbirds, or murals, or the St. Francis prayer, or portraits of my inner terrain. Or writing a book on stopping self-harm.

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And yes, the Disney portraits are part of it too! They’re fun to paint, they teach me, make others laugh; and the money they make pays for my soul work. I’m grateful for all of it.

Art Heals

​Marshall Arisman (1938-2022) is usually thought of as an illustrator. His editorial work graced many albums and magazine covers. He founded the MFA Illustration program at the School of Visual Arts in NYC--a model that later influenced CSUF's program, where I got my MFA in Illustration. He encouraged his students to look inward to find their creative inspiration, not to follow trends.

His paintings just kill me! I love how they weave through darkness into light. That's where I feel most at home. I find his work healing because he's not afraid to go into those scary neighborhoods inside, where he digs out grace and beauty. It's something I strive for in my own work.

With love and light,

Maggie

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