Helga posted a great comment "Christmas Gifts", here’s part of it:
"Interesting that giving away your art wouldn’t sit right with you, when giving of yourself is what you do. Makes me wonder if this whole giving thing doesn’t need to be examined – especially now that you’re preparing yet another gift (the IO book).
Second question, or perhaps this should be/is the first: Why’d you do it?
Third question/thought: When you find out why giving your art away doesn’t feel good, you may figure out the "mystery" of your new art-making thing. "
I know why giving away my art made me feel uncomfortable- it was the judging thing. I hadn’t thought about it but when you give someone something you’ve made, when I do at least, there is always that split second moment in which I do my inner Sally Field ("Do you like it? Do you really like it?" ) and in
relationship to this tender bud of an experience, I worried that I might squash or damage my bubbling.
In a first draft of my column for Body+Soul (out April/May next year??) I wrote, "Everyone talked about their experiences with the same tone of awe and confusion: why now, when I’ve never been busier? Why painting or singing or dancing when I ruled it out years ago? I looked up a passage in my book Comfort Secrets for Busy Women, a quote from therapist and author Jennifer Freed, PH.D,: ‘Some women always wished they danced and never did and now they are over forty. Oh well, they think. But then they start taking dance classes, and it is something they commit to. It’s not about becoming the best dancer… All these activities from the very get-go are not about becoming famous or well loved or recognized. Women are returning to things they abandoned in pursuit of just that.’ I remembered interviewing Jennifer and thinking her comment applied only to people who had somehow given up on their passion i.e not me. Yet here I was, passionate, even obsessed, with something that I had indeed given up on only I don’t think the form is the important thing; instead it was about a creative adventure that is not marketable, not ambitious, not linked to being patted on the back but explored for the sake of exhilaration, for the sake of aliveness, for the sake of love.
When we experience something not for any exterior gain or planned outcome but for the love of the process, we experience life at its most mysterious and lusty, which is exactly what gets squeezed out of our everyday life."
On the other hand, giving away what I’m making feels natural because I’m so unattached to what I’m making. It feels like flow, being in the flow, sharing… I just want to watch out for "Do you like it?" because who needs that noise?
4 responses so far ↓
1 cindy Jan 8, 2006
you said: “When we experience something not for any exterior gain or planned outcome but for the love of the process, we experience life at its most mysterious and lusty”
this is the best description of my love for creating!!
and it can be addictive!
2 De Jan 8, 2006
I know for me when I give my art away, I can’t be there when they open it. To see just the tinyest bit of disappointment in someones eyes hurts me deeply, no matter what they say after that first look. De
3 Poppy Jan 8, 2006
Lots of mixed reactions….
I make art (photographs) because I enjoy doing it, because it takes my breath away looking back at some of what I’ve done and seeing how good it looks.
On the other hand, if art is created in a vacuum with no-one to admire it, is it art or is it just a photograph, a painting we enjoyed making? I like knowing that people visit my photoblog and see what I’ve done recently, like imagining what the stranger from Europe who found me through a websearch and stayed to look at 11 pictures is really like – does he or she like my work, want copies to decorate his or her desktop?
I submitted photos to the county fair last summer because I wanted them to be seen, wanted to know how they would be judged. And they didn’t win anything, but they were better than some, and one of my co-workers took the time to go and see them and fell in love with one. So when the fair was over, I simply handed it to her. That was an inner Sally Field moment – “You like it? You really like it? Well, if you like it, then you should have it! Please?”
Hrm. Lots of words, very little sense. Some days I’m like that.
4 Tara Jan 17, 2006
I’m not an artist, but I do like to draw, paint, and create pretty things when I don’t feel like writing. This Christmas I gave away some art, and I too had that uncomfortable feeling as each layer of tissue paper was removed from the gift bags and my crafts were held up for all to see. I painted wine glasses for my husband’s family and teapots for my family. (That tells you just a little bit about how different our families are.) We got expensive suitcases and checks in return and I ended up feeling dumb and guilty for not doing enough. I don’t know if I’ll make art for relatives again, though I was proud of my thrifty and slightly beautiful gifts from the heart at the time.
What I did feel good about was painting three boxes last month for a program that doesn’t require talented artists, but just people who like to create and make a difference in other people’s lives. These boxes are sent to hospitals where they are used by the infant bereavement program. It’s such a simple, yet beautiful way to share your art. Please take a moment to review this
website. http://www.teraleigh.com/memoryboxes/