Today, I will definitively answer an age-old question. Or perhaps, more likely, the pope of something that everyone and all artists asked for in the first place.
I might as well just bury the lede here. I, along with every other scholar and theologian who has ever questioned it, do not know what the meaning of life is. It is one of those unanswerable questions that everyone asks at some point in the course of their existence. Often, it is quickly followed by sinking into a gallon of watery ice cream by tears of despair as we realize how frustrating life’s complexity can be.
Maybe I’m biased, but I feel this question can get even more complicated when you’re an artist. For the true artist, creative passion is an addiction stronger than any drug. The act of being creative in itself can give meaning to your life, even if it’s hard to explain to less creative friends why what you do matters in the grand scheme of things. more of everything. Things get even more complicated if you make a living from your artistic activity. Now, along with your efforts to create meaningful work comes the basic basic need to support yourself and your family. Art and commerce make strange bedmates. And it’s easy to get confused when the ratio between hard work and lauded talent and financial success seems unbalanced. Since you most likely live in a world where at least half of the people you meet, hearing what you do for a living, both externally and internally, seems to suggest to you that a more appropriate course of action is would be getting a “real job” and where most of your time would be spent trying to convince real clients on a budget that your work has legitimate value rather than just a hobby that you are willing to donate to them for free, the struggle to maintain confidence in your course is a reality.
Under such conditions, it is natural for one to sometimes wonder what the point of it all is when every day is a battle. When you give so much to your art that it becomes a part of you. A part of you is so much that the “value” of your work can sometimes subconsciously get caught up in your self-worth as a person. An endless work to improve. Constantly striving to be better than you were yesterday, there is absolutely no guarantee that the world at large will be able to tell the difference. So what is the problem?
A few weeks ago, I was watching a recording of an old Q&A session with a trio of female screenwriters. They are lamenting the rather arbitrary nature of Hollywood’s success. They discussed everything from the contradiction between commercialism and creativity to the battle to get yourself back after you’ve had initial success. They talk about how difficult it is to stay in the profession no matter how many obstacles pile up on their success. Then one of the women came up with a phrase that has haunted me for weeks. She is a screenwriter, but this simple saying applies to any artistic pursuit from filmmaking, photography, music, painting, etc.
Simply put, she says that the only thing an artist can do is “create their work”. It sounds painfully simple at first. But, again, most of the best advice is. Basically, what she’s saying is that ultimately it’s pointless to try to please other people in life, whether they’re studio executives, art buyers, or just Uncle Johnny. yours in Detroit. No matter how hard you work, there will always be someone who is not impressed. There will always be a customer who doesn’t like your style. There will always be another artist who wins more awards than you. There will always be dream projects, no matter how valuable, that never seem to come together. The odds are sure to work against you as an artist. And treating every win or loss as an affirmation of your worth, or a confirmation of your lack of value, is a one-way ticket to depression.
How people react to your work is beyond your control. What is within your control is the power to focus on “making your work”. What is within your control is doing your best to ensure your work improves with each project, even if you are the only one who notices the change. You may not have the power to make people love you. But you have the power to relentlessly pursue your craft to create work you’re personally proud of. You don’t have to compete with every other artist in the world. Your only competitor is yourself. How far can you stretch your talent? What can you do with the ability you were born with? Have you taken your gifts and built on them? Or, have you lost the unique voice you were given and let those gifts go to waste?
All of which means that I think the meaning of life, artistically speaking, is simply to do the best we can with the dreams we’ve been given. The goal cannot be about financial gain or critical acclaim. Those things are nice, but less in our control than we might think. But we can be determined to keep creating our work. We can commit to making an effort every day, regardless of the outcome, so that one day, when our days on Earth are over, those we leave behind can look at the mass. work and really get a glimpse of the bigger picture.
Only you can make your dreams come true. Pursuing those dreams is what gives life the most meaning. Well, to me at least.
