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( Merfle sparked my muse with her gift. )
Being an artist of whatever sort is a curious gift. You must please yourself with it, but when your muse sparks you afire, you can kindle the world ablaze with that light.
Being an artist is not a solitary pursuit. The gift is given, but it is not meant to be hoarded. A muse cannot live locked in a cage; for whatever well-meant or selfish reason it is shut away, it will wither and crumble.
Artists do not exist in a vacuum. Artists are one in themselves, and part of the collective consciousness of humanity. Artists produce what pleases them, but in turn bear the musical and visual progeny for the rest of the race not gifted with the muse. They give birth to our deepest soul's urge.
When art becomes solitary, and unpleasing to the self, then the muse and the artist are out of balance. There is a need to examine both, and determine what needs change. Stagnation is poison to it all.
Some artists produce works of wonder, but the self cannot share with the world. It is a fear of rejection, a post-partum depression of the muse. Some fear that is all there is and will be. Some fear they will lose their privacy.
Some artists can share with one and all their works, but do not allow themselves to be pregnant again with the new ideas of the muse. They are afraid of change, afraid that they will not be loved for challenging themselves, for evolving. Along that fear lies the lines of others - fear of losing friends, fear of losing social status.
It is a gift, and a curse, to bear the muse's whims. It is a job, and a hobby, and a manifestation of the divine, all at once. Art is. It lives, the vital breath of a planet's collective imagination. A thing lovely to behold, in many ways, but also a responsibility given to a chosen few. If you can create, you should create, however that may be. To deny it is to let a small part of the world die.
-M.
Being an artist of whatever sort is a curious gift. You must please yourself with it, but when your muse sparks you afire, you can kindle the world ablaze with that light.
Being an artist is not a solitary pursuit. The gift is given, but it is not meant to be hoarded. A muse cannot live locked in a cage; for whatever well-meant or selfish reason it is shut away, it will wither and crumble.
Artists do not exist in a vacuum. Artists are one in themselves, and part of the collective consciousness of humanity. Artists produce what pleases them, but in turn bear the musical and visual progeny for the rest of the race not gifted with the muse. They give birth to our deepest soul's urge.
When art becomes solitary, and unpleasing to the self, then the muse and the artist are out of balance. There is a need to examine both, and determine what needs change. Stagnation is poison to it all.
Some artists produce works of wonder, but the self cannot share with the world. It is a fear of rejection, a post-partum depression of the muse. Some fear that is all there is and will be. Some fear they will lose their privacy.
Some artists can share with one and all their works, but do not allow themselves to be pregnant again with the new ideas of the muse. They are afraid of change, afraid that they will not be loved for challenging themselves, for evolving. Along that fear lies the lines of others - fear of losing friends, fear of losing social status.
It is a gift, and a curse, to bear the muse's whims. It is a job, and a hobby, and a manifestation of the divine, all at once. Art is. It lives, the vital breath of a planet's collective imagination. A thing lovely to behold, in many ways, but also a responsibility given to a chosen few. If you can create, you should create, however that may be. To deny it is to let a small part of the world die.
-M.
