I was talking with a friend of mine a few days ago about the link between suffering and art, and we were asking: is it necessary to be so flippin’ heavy? Is suffering necessary for art? Of course, some times it can’t be helped. A lot of artists have thought (or still think) that drugs, alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, coffee, whatever, are vital to creativity. Are they? To great work? Should I punch a wall? Heaven knows there’s enough pain in the world without being excessively self-inflicting. Could John Lennon have written I Am The Walrus without LSD? And was he really the Eggman? How many holes are there in Blackpool, Lancashire? Or was it holes in Albert Hall? Yes, I believe it was. And John Lennon would love to turn you on. At least that’s what he said.
I can’t remember what my friend and I concluded, because we killed ourselves after a deep depression before we could get an answer. Just kidding. I’m smiling. Hey, in fact it’s my birthday today. I’m older—45 trips around the sun—but my hopes and heart remain young.
Anyway, why is suffering and art considered compatible? Even necessary? I think one of the grand problems is the cult of personality, where actors and writers are put in this strange high pantheon in a society desperate to be distracted by glitz and story—a pantheon once inhabited, according to the Greeks, by our so-called daemon (we all have one, supposedly!). And the daemon, in some mysterious way, is the actual artist. Notice how close that word is to that word for a terrible, rotten being: demon. How ironic. Who altered its meaning? Well, demon is a term in Western religion, which may give a hint. But stuff happens, so what are you gonna do?
Anyway, in this lovely TED talk, author Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) talks about artists (all of us, in other words, in some way) rethinking the place and meaning of their creativity, their art, their relationship to art.
There’s even a great story she tells about Tom Waits, which makes the whole presentation cooler. So remember, at every moment of sinking despair, and before, there is great beauty in you. Genius (in the meaning she gives). Words, wanting to get out. Movement, wanting to move. Kind, creative speech, looking for an ear. All kinds of wonderful, inconceivable things that science can’t explain, which is why I love life, and why I love scientists.
Lots of love to you,
Pete xox
Dear Pete,
A slightly belated happy birthday. I hope you had a wonderful day and found a meaningful way to celebrate 45 trips around the sun. Many bright blessings for a year filled with an abundance of love, laughter, spirituality, creativity, music, chai and whatever else makes your heart sing and spirit dance.
As for the connection between art and suffering, I suppose that after they’ve been emotionally processed/digested, the more challenging experiences in our lives can provide a wealth of inspiration for a creative work of art. I’m not convinced that the kind of ongoing suffering associated with being an artist (or is that “artiste”?), whether in the form of ongoing poverty, dysfunctional life styles or relationships, etc is really all that conducive to actually creating and producing many works of art on a regular basis. Personally, I’ve always found that I have much more creative energy and am more able to write well when I’m relaxed, reasonably content, and appreciating the beauty in the world.
I’ve come across a couple of other blogs recently wherein the authors have challenged the belief systems that one must suffer to be an artist and that the process of creating one’s art (in whatever form) must also be excruciatingly difficult. Anyway, I’m glad to see that people are challenging these notions. I hope more people will start thinking independently and questioning a lot of the “facts” and assumptions in our culture that we take for granted and that seem to contribute to living on autopilot.
Love and hugs,
Sue
It was your birthday yesterday and you had one comment. And a day after your birthday, no less. Thank goodness for Sue. Well here’s another comment left two days after your birthday.
Suffering comes from the egoic self. The more we detach from the egoic self, the more we channel the good stuff from whatever genius hangs out with us on the other side. (The genius as explained by Elizabeth Gilbert in her Ted.com talk you mentioned.) I imagine my genius sitting around reading the paper, chatting it up with other geniuses in a sort of other-world coffee shop. At some point, I get out of my funk and say, “Hey, let’s create something.” My genius snaps the paper closed, dusts off his/her robe and says, “bring that shit on, girl.”
My genius swears. I do not.
Happy birthday, dear Pete. You add immeasurable light and love to my life. Thank you for being born at the same time as me so we could hang out and laugh together in this life. You pretty much rock.
Love ya,
Janice
Happy (very belated) Birthday! Remember when we all thought folks in their 40s were old? Well here we are! Seriously, hope your birthday was spent in the company of those who love you and you love most.
Suffer? I have to suffer first? Is that the problem? That’s why I haven’t produced that Great American Novel yet? (Being over 40 not enough suffering for the genius?)
I’m with Sue and you on this—I don’t think creativity or artistry requires suffering, self or externally inflicted. I think only if the artist wants it to be that way. I’m most creative when I’m happy; however, I’ve discovered a new little life in the family is like strapping on a Saturn 5 rocket. Wow! Something was unleashed that night.
Perhaps it’s any emotional extreme that spurs creativity; however, joy doesn’t generate as much empathy as pathos?
To my way of thinking, if your art celebrates life, with all its color and shades of gray, how does chronic suffering facilitate that? (Wait, I have fibromyalgia, never mind. Just kidding; it does not facilitate any creativity.) If you are, think you are, or make it so you are suffering all the time, you run the risk of missing the glory of life. There has to be balance, no? I’ve written some of my darkest stuff when at my happiest. Anyone have any insight on that oddity?
Merriam Webster defines “art” as: the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects.
Ms. Gilbert is absolutely right; we are all artists. Don’t artists try to bring creativity to everything they do? Isn’t there art in the mundane? But then, I see tremendous gracefulness watching a hockey game. Maybe it’s me?
I stopped worrying about my next creative endeavor the day I realized that no matter what I put on paper, film, video tape, or record for posterity in any way, the two most important things I will ever do is raise my family and grow my relationship with my Love. You could find the cure for cancer, but if you screw up a kid or neglect your great Love, I think you blew it in life. I know how extreme that sounds, but couldn’t the definition of “art” also define “parenting” or “relationship”?
I guess I do see things a little askew, don’t I?
Love to you and those you love,
Karen
PS: Sue, love that term “living on autopilot”! Oh how often I’ve caught myself there.