❦ I’ve always felt that an Artist was a person willing to be a channel for something much larger and far more mysterious than her or his little self. The modern kind of artists’ statement that includes phrases like “informs my aesthetic” and “my purpose” always seemed to be somehow…arrogant. Sometimes even a little bit aggressive, as if by authoritatively stating what they, the artists, were doing in grand terms, they could somehow push their importance and value onto the rest of us.
Maybe I’m just naive in this modern age, but it seems like being an artist should be — regardless of the tribulations of keeping body and soul together — first and foremost, a Calling. A calling that whispers in the night, when one is making the bed or washing the lettuce, showering, or pruning the hedge. A calling that itches in the fingertips and trembles in the heart. “Something wants to be born,” that whisper says. A calling that may, in fact, drag us through a certain kind of Hell, but it will be far worse for us if we refuse or linger overlong on the fence.
There is no explanation given, no reason given for the urgency, but the Calling is still insistent. “A fool’s leap! “Who would possibly want it and how could it even be marketed?” the Reasonable Mind argues back. “How much can I sell it for?” the Fearful Self joins in. There is a lot of Resistance. There always is. Artists are only human, after all. We get nervous when things are out of our control, when we haven’t a clue where they’re going and how it will all turn out. We fear for the loss of all things dear to mortals: our minds, our comfort, our safety and perhaps we fear for our status too.
A Calling is not, I think, ‘religious‘ in the normal sense of that word, unless your view of religion is devotion to something you can never hope to fully understand…devotion that has nothing to gain, no persona to maintain…a kind of death, really. The Calling I am referring to is much more like that quote, “I traded my life for a wild ride on a dark horse.” I wish I knew who wrote that. Following a Calling is so much like that. Exhilarating…terrifying…eerily calm all at the same time. Maybe life should always be like that, artist or no…?
Oh, and just in case it wasn’t clear, I don’t mean “Calling” in the sense that one is “special.” More a message that “This is yours to do here, if you are willing and brave enough to accept the challenge…” ♡
“Drink Me” (watercolor, pen & ink) © Susan Sorrell Hill ❦ SOLD. Sorry, no prints available of this beauty, as the original got away before I could have it professionally photographed. However!! There are lots of other images available in The Print Collection at www.susansorrellhill.com
Thank you for your art and writing. I have missed being in touch with you. I feel that hand touching me. Wakening me. Love , Helen
Sent from my iPad
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It’s nice to hear from you, Helen. We haven’t crossed paths in a while, and I hope you are well. Life is all about Change, as I am sure you have noticed in your colorful journey. Kicking and screaming or going with the flow seem to be the only two choices offered, and you seem to be a person who has aligned herself with the latter. Joy is the word I equate with you, Helen. So admirable! ♡
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I’ve felt art as a calling too, though sometimes I’ve wished to be called to something else with a better guarantee of consistent financial rewards. The quote tickles my memory, but I can’t seem to find it online. Perhaps it’s referring to “Mazeppa” by Lord Byron?
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Thanks for commenting, Linda. I know we share many of the same views on life as an artist. I’ve been pondering for a while now if being called to be an artist is, in fact, a call to predictable, inconsistent and meager financial rewards…or if that common outcome is a false and self-fulfilling expectation? There are plenty of examples, if we look for them, of artists who are thriving and doing very well, thank you very much! But somehow, it seems to be the disaster stories of artists that we remember (and fear) the most. I am working on “the world is as we dream it.” Stay tuned! ♡
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