Recently, I had a fellow artist comment on a piece of work
that I created. I welcome comments. I’m always surprised when people take the
time to comment on my work, so positive or negative, comments are always welcome. In this instance, the artist did not like the
piece. This is fine. Art is subjective and abstract art in particular is very
subjective. Most people either like it
or hate it. There is rarely an in between feeling toward abstract art. At
least, this is what I have found.
Everyone is entitled to their opinion.
My Skin (c) 2016 Trisha Leigh Shufelt
To be honest, I’m not actually fond of this piece. I’ve
rather crudely nicknamed it, The Golden Turd.
However, it was not the opinion of the piece that bothered
me, it was the interpretation this fellow artist had of the process by which I
create, and their projection of how I should create.
For those who are unaware of how I create art, let me give
you a brief breakdown. When I create
abstract art, I often choose a piece of music and tune into the energy it
evokes though the music and lyrics. Sometimes, I have a particular piece of music
in mind, but often it is random. While on rotation, the piece will produce
colors and visuals in my mind, which I interpret and put onto canvas. This process actually has a name and is
called, Synesthesia. There are several
forms. I won’t bore you with them. You can look it up for yourself. Many creative types possess this
ability. I’ll be honest; I didn’t know
what it was that I was doing actually had a name until recently.
For this particular piece, I had chosen a song called, My Skin, by Natalie Merchant,
I had heard on Pandora for the first time that very day. I thought the melody was stirring, emotional,
beautiful, and the lyrics were evocative. My crude interpretation of my own art has nothing to do with Ms. Merchants lyrics, which I feel are brilliant.
These are the lyrics by Natalie Merchant~
Take a look at my body, look at my hands
There's so much here that I don't understand
Your face saving promises, whisper like prayers
And I don't need them
There's so much here that I don't understand
Your face saving promises, whisper like prayers
And I don't need them
'Cause I've been treated so wrong, I've been treated so
long
As if I'm becoming untouchable
As if I'm becoming untouchable
Well, contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark
The fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart
They say that promises sweeten the blow
But I don't need them, no I don't need them
The fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart
They say that promises sweeten the blow
But I don't need them, no I don't need them
I've been treated so wrong, I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable
I'm a slow dying flower in the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour and untouchable
As if I'm becoming untouchable
I'm a slow dying flower in the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour and untouchable
Oh, I need
The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
Need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
The darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
Need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
I'm a slow dying flower, frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour and untouchable
The sweet turning sour and untouchable
Do you remember the way that you touched me before
All the trembling sweetness, I loved and adored
Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers
I don't need them
All the trembling sweetness, I loved and adored
Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers
I don't need them
I need the darkness
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
I need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
The sweetness
The sadness
The weakness
Oh, I need this
I need a lullaby
A kiss goodnight
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this
Well, is it dark enough
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving
Then you shut your mouth
And hold your breath
You kiss me now
You catch your death
Oh, I mean this
Oh, I mean this
As, I listened to the song on the first go around, I immediately was struck by the color red. Love, pain, fear, anger, and the root of survival. Yes, black and darkness came to mind. I then could see a cocoon and then gold. Healing scars with gold~a Japanese pottery technique. After, several more rotations, the piece was born. Can I relate to the lyrics? Yes. I think many of us can or have related to this experience at one time or another.
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving
Then you shut your mouth
And hold your breath
You kiss me now
You catch your death
Oh, I mean this
Oh, I mean this
As, I listened to the song on the first go around, I immediately was struck by the color red. Love, pain, fear, anger, and the root of survival. Yes, black and darkness came to mind. I then could see a cocoon and then gold. Healing scars with gold~a Japanese pottery technique. After, several more rotations, the piece was born. Can I relate to the lyrics? Yes. I think many of us can or have related to this experience at one time or another.
While the other artist expressed a general overall dislike
for the piece, it was more than the dislike that struck me. What they truly did not like were the lyrics I had chosen,
and that by listening to this song on rotation, I was allowing myself to become
stuck in the darkness. While I
appreciate their concern for my well-being, and assured them that the process
by which I paint did not spiral me into the abyss, I found this advice rather
unsettling. Normally, I would just
dismiss this, but something inside of me felt this was not a moment where I
should remain silent. First, art is
about creation. It is about interpretation of emotions. It is sometimes
therapy. Sometimes, it is just about
releasing energy and making a magical mess in the process. Just as life is a balance of dark and light,
so is art. Sometimes, I create very soft
and ethereal pieces. Other times, I create hard and dark pieces. I explained to the artist, not everything I
do is sunshine and rainbows. While it
may be a reflection of my mood, it may also be a reflection of what I am tuning
into, i.e., the music. I never become
trapped within my creations. Instead, I create, I release. I let go. I create some more. I create many things. So,
that is the process.
Now, for me, the
nerve that was struck by this fellow artist’s comments went very deep. This
wasn’t about whether or not the person liked my art. No, this was a critique about how I create and perhaps. what I should create. The fact that it came from a fellow artist
was even more bothersome. It is a fascinating and yet, disturbing
trend that I am seeing more and more. Actors, musicians and artists seem
to be taking the brunt of it. Don’t talk
politics; just entertain us. While this
was clearly not about politics, it was about the way in which I communicated my sense
of self though my art. When you try to silence my process, you are trying to
silence me. Art is self expression. Art should shake you up and get you
thinking. In the process, it may get you
thinking about the very things that you need to work on within yourself. It may make you uncomfortable. If it strikes a nerve, it is because
something needs healing and integrating within the self. And yes, this struck a nerve. Therefore, I am working on the healing of that within myself. WE seem
to be living in a time where the lack of control in the world around us, forces us to
want to control how others think, feel and behave. It is often masked by concern, fear, or for
the so called greater good. My
suggestion is to self-check before you express your opinion. Where is it truly
coming from? To quote my Reiki teacher, “Checky. Checky.”
And for the creative types, don’t let your voice be silenced
by the key stroke or opinions of others. Keep creating thought provoking
material. Keep using your voice. Never let anyone’s opinion silence you, or
dictate what, or how you create art.
Blessings!!
No comments:
Post a Comment