There are hundreds of books (and millions of YouTube videos) about art-making. From the philosophical position – why do we make it – to the concrete instruction – here’s how you paint it. The world is saturated with advice, guidance and instruction on how to make art or ‘be an artist’. It’s easy to think – what could I possibly contribute to this?
There are also, by now, probably billions of drawings of koalas, teddy bears, fire engines, hammers, parents, children, racoons, foxes, ice-cream, and all the things that typically end up in children’s books. Do we really need another version of any of those things? Someone’s already done it, so why bother?
But, perhaps the reason to bother is that people perceive the world in more than a billion ways and so the chances are pretty high that your take on how to paint light, or why you make art in the first place, will find a kindred soul or two and start a fire in them to do the same. Maybe your take on a koala will be the one that finds a small heart, somewhere in the world who says, “I like your koala better than every koala that’s come before.”
I’ve been writing on this journal once a week for 3 years. I’m pretty sure I haven’t had an insight into the art experience that hasn’t been written about before by at least one other soul in the history of human existence. Why do I bother? Well, first and foremost, writing helps me think and learn, so, on one level, I do it for myself. But, the reason its public is that maybe my take matters to someone out there, like a message in a bottle floating in vast viridian ocean. Maybe it washes up on the right beach, at the right time, when someone’s got a moment to notice.
If they don’t? That’s OK, writing those messages into the ether is still useful to me.
