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Growth and change

How does one find oneā€™s purpose as an artist? Should we build that into how we think about our work?

Ravening Wolves, 24X30, oil on canvas, is as close as I get to didacticism these days.

ā€œHow have you grown as a painter in the last ten years?ā€ a student asked me.

My drawing and brushwork arenā€™t much different, but my color choices have certainly changed, as has my ability to relax into abstraction. That doesnā€™t seem like much growth for a decadeā€™s work.

In intangible ways, however, Iā€™ve changed a lotā€”Iā€™m far less anxious about the outcome, and less didactic in my subject matter. Iā€™ll never focus on figure as I was doing a decade ago. Although Iā€™m proud of the work I did about womenā€™s issues, Iā€™ll never paint that subject again. Which reminds me: this is the last weekend youā€™ll see Censored and Poetic at the Rye Arts Center; it ends Saturday night.

Main Street, Owlā€™s Head, 16X20, oil on archival gessoboard

Ten years ago, I was still wrestling with the legitimacy of my calling. Those of you who were raised thinking that art wasnā€™t a ā€˜realā€™ career understand that. Today, I barely remember the question. Iā€™m an artist because itā€™s all I know how to do.

Which leads me to the second question I received this week: ā€œHow does one find purpose? How have artists done it over time? Should we build that into how we think about our work?

ā€œI see people at figure sessions banging out the exact same thing over and over. I get the impression, from talking to them, that they have been doing that, or variations of that, for years on end. And they aren’t that good. Why do these people show up? Something to do?ā€

Spring Greens, 8×10, oil on canvasboard

Iā€™m the last person to denigrate regular practice, and figure is one area where that is particularly important. If I had the time right now, Iā€™d go to my local life drawing class myself. Itā€™s good exercise and I like the people who attend.

But I have known people who never progress past that. They were taking classes 25 years ago and are still doing that today. Some are stuck because they have day jobs. Some arenā€™t that skilled but enjoy the process. Some are excellent painters, but uninterested in making it a career. Amateur status is nothing to be sneezed at.

Iā€™ve also had students whoā€™ve just gone through a major traumaā€”an unwanted divorce or job separation. They were floundering and it gave them an anchor. Creativity is cheaper than therapy and for many it serves as well. When they worked out their next step, they moved on from art.

Midnight at the Wood Lot, 12X16, oil on canvasboard

But there are always that few who want to make art their lifeā€™s work. For them, the question of artistic purpose is critical. Itā€™s inextricably bound up in oneā€™s life purpose. Your work ought to be an expression of your thoughts or feelings, or itā€™s meaningless.

When I was younger, I thought that my purpose was didactic. Today, Iā€™d be hard-pressed to put my mission statement into words, but it has something to do with glorifying Creation and helping people feel connected to it. Thatā€™s tied to my faith, but I donā€™t feel a need to preach through my paintings.

That, too, may change as I get older. Oneā€™s mission and calling in life is fluid. The important thing is to have the tools at our disposal to answer whatever comes up. And thatā€™s where all those weeks and years in art class come in.