Being an artist seriously sucks sometimes. Not so much the actual work of it, but the mental demands, the insecurities, the obsessiveness that decides to tag along on any creative project. Whatever you create is a piece of yourself, laid bare for all the world to see and judge, accept or reject. It’s a scary thing, that. And it’s easy to let the fear keep you from creating anything at all.
In her book Big Magic , author Elizabeth Gilbert describes this kind of fear as “a desolate boneyard where our dreams go to desiccate in the hot sun” (p.13). Living in the desert, I found this to be a particularly effective metaphor.
She then proceeds to punch that fear in the face, encouraging artists to instead embrace the creative life with all its ups and downs and seek joy in the middle of it all.
It resonated on so many levels, and made me realize how I sabotage myself and my creativity by focusing on the wrong things–the self-doubt, the frustration, the financial worries, everything but the simple joy of creating.
Gilbert acknowledges that it’s tempting to put all of your hopes and dreams into your work, making it even more disappointing when things don’t go the way you planned. But that’s not what art’s about.
Art is not practical, and it’s not obligated to take care of you. Putting that kind of pressure on it will kill inspiration quicker than anything.
My whole life I’ve been drawn to create things, and yet for reasons I still don’t understand I often find myself stuck, afraid to pursue art professionally even though it’s been my dream since I was a kid. The fear is absolutely paralyzing at times, and for years it caused me to avoid sharing my work at all.
I started this blog in part because I hoped it would help me get over that fear, but it’s still there more often than not. And yet, looking back I can see that every time I finally let go of the fear, something amazing and unexpected happens–Big Magic.
It’s this Big Magic–Gilbert’s way of describing the mystery of inspiration–that I’ve felt so many times and yet could never quite put into words before. Like when I’m starting a new piece and sift through hundreds of ideas and references until one suddenly jumps out at me and I know: that’s the story that’s ready to be told. Sometimes it’s not the one I would have chosen, or it might be one I had passed over many times before. Sometimes I try to ignore the nudge and do something else instead, and those are the times I struggle the most to make it work.
But when I let inspiration lead everything seems to flow together, and I feel a determination to see it through because, for whatever reason, that picture is supposed to exist. That’s the mystery, and the magic, of inspiration.
Reading this book will challenge your ideas about what an artist’s life should look like and how to truly measure success: by the satisfaction the creation of art brings and the joy that comes from connecting with others when we share it.
Of course there will still be dark days. Inspiration is free to come and go as it pleases after all. But imagine what would happen if we welcome it with open arms every time it comes around, instead of giving in to fear. I bet it would be pretty magical.