The Romantic Artist
The romantic notion of carefully crafting a painting, a sculpture, a song, a poem from the ether to the page has always been my vision of the perfect piece of art.
It’s not an easy task – no, it’s fraught with struggle, emotion, pain, and desire. Art is a reward for those who toil – it’s like watching a magician practice the same trick over and over, finally having it pay off by perfect execution.
It’s like an athlete who performs and trains day after day – practicing perfectly in order to execute perfectly.
But it’s not like that at all. The romantic notion of an artist sees the artist practice his whole life for one brief moment – one brief vision – of God. And then it’s gone.
And the torment of my romantic artist is that the artist will chase the desire to re-live that moment just one more time in their life. And then they are hooked – the ultimate hit of crack that sends the artist spiraling.
Chasing the dream.
Now, I hope this is not the case. I wish every artist could find that hole in the sky and see heaven on a daily basis.
That there is no torment. No angst.
That there is success upon success.
But the the chase is always better than the catch, they say…
And in romance, there is pain.