SJ
I mentioned to a close friend recently that two of the artists who have had the biggest influence on me both took their own life. One had been struggling openly with depression and shot himself in the parking lot of his psychologist's office, while the other one simply disappeared. His backpack was found on a high cliff overlooking the sea.
On a certain level, I find it incomprehensible that two people with so much talent and apparent success could be so down on themselves. They both were recognized, celebrated and collected artists : in financial terms, they were successful. And money seems to be the primary measure of success to many people.
However, for creatives, it's not quite so simple. I think that there is a constant hunger that gnaws away at the creative person, a sense of inadequacy that taunts and undermines. Looking at their own work, the creative is likely to see only the imperfections and faults: a dimension that is off, or a shadow that is wrong, or a rhyme that just doesn't sing. They're constantly comparing themselves to others or worse, to their own visions and expectations, and feeling that they fall short. This insecurity is both a gift and a poison. Used well, it becomes a motive, a force that drives a desire to do better, to continue onwards in hopes of one day getting it right. Conversely, it can also fuel feelings of unworthiness, frustration and worse. I grapple with this myself on an ongoing basis. It's like having your own personal demon sitting on your shoulder, telling you that it's just not worth it, you're just not worth it.
This flux of emotions is embedded within each and every work an artist embarks upon, no matter where they are in their career. You begin with a vision of what you want to paint, whether it is a scene before your eyes, a photograph, or an image from your imagination. You throw down paint excitedly and see the essence of your vision transferring to the canvas. So far, so good. But every single painting goes through an ''ugly stage'', where you get to the halfway point or so and step back and realize that it looks nothing like what you'd envisioned, and it seems hopeless to continue, impossible to salvage. It takes grit and determination and a sprinkle of pure, unadulterated optimism to get past this and persevere. Most of the time, something beautiful does emerge in the end. However you have to commit to the roller coaster in order to get there.
I found some of the few remaining images of one of these artists and decided to spend some time with them. In attempting to replicate them, I hope to absorb some of the light and inspiration of a brilliant artist who left us wanting more.
