When the world seems to be falling apart, making art can feel useless. What’s the point of painting, or writing a novel, or creating a song, when the government is doing what it’s doing, and the glaciers are melting, and the forests are burning, and we’re worried about money and health and loved ones?
There are plenty of abstract answers: creativity is our human birthright, it’s a voice of hope in the darkness, etc. I can get intellectual and quote the studies on how art creates neuroplasticity and soothes agitation. Or spiritual: God/Spirit gave us gifts so we can develop them and offer our creations to the world.
But what does it matter if all the polar bears die because there’s no more ice?
Untitled, oil on canvas, an angst-y painting from a few years ago
It seems to me that beneath all this collective angst is a need to fix mistakes. To solve the problems that we humans have created. I hate seeing how our behavior on this planet has led to so much loss of life and quality of living for so many species. I want to stop it somehow and save what I love: nature, animals, clean water and air. Also, kind people. Because the mean people are the ones who are doing all the destroying. They can just...go somewhere else. I don’t want them dead, necessarily, just to stop doing what they’re doing.
After I’ve spiraled down deep enough, I encounter that type of self-focused thinking. If the world would just behave as I want, then everything would be okay.
So, I have to let it all go. I don’t have the answers. There’s no one to blame. We’re here, the tide is sweeping us along. I can take a stand and fight for a cause...Or I can paint.
Why? Because I have to. I’m an artist.
"The First Wing," oil on canvas, 2015
Tove Jansson (of Moomintroll fame) gave up painting when World War II broke out because she didn’t think it was relevant anymore. But she didn’t give up art completely. She switched to writing and illustrating children’s books, which turned into beloved classics in Finland and beyond. Not because she was trying to change the world or find success, but because was searching for a way to connect in more meaningful ways with her art during difficult times.
That’s why I write these newsletters, and my book about stopping self-harm, and novels that haven’t been published (yet). It’s why I teach and coach creatives to do their best work. I haven’t stopped painting; I’ve added more range to my voice. My little speck of the world will be a better place to live while everything falls apart.
Or maybe if I use my gifts well enough, God/Spirit (or I) will forgive me for the small part I've played in all this human destruction. There's that self-focused thinking again...
It's time to paint.
Art Heals
Sho Shibuya is known for his series, "The Sunrise from a Small Window" (in his case, Brooklyn)--paintings on NYT newspapers. It started as a personal exercise contrasting the daily (human, dramatic, awful) news with the ever-present view of the sky. He wasn't seeking the fame and success that came later--only a soothing connection with something that never changes, yet is always new and different.
A piece from the series "Falling From the Sky," acrylic on newspaper, by Sho Shibuya.
