Art ain’t easy
Trying to write:
The paper is flat, clean, smooth, satiny. I’m writing with my favorite pen, but my words are hesitating along the paper. There’s an order of formality with little heart and soul.
I need to find a pulse.
Crunching the paper in my hands forming a cracked ball releases the tension in my shoulders and arms. About to toss it into the trash, I realize, I’m giving up too quickly. Unfolding the paper I smooth it with the palm of my hands. The paper is now full of little bumps and crevices.
I begin again.
The writing wakes up. The pen is riding on the paper’s ridges and bumps. Now the words match the bold ink leaving trails along the creases of the page.
Trying to dance:
I’m in an empty theater with dancers scattered around waiting to start rehearsals. I have an idea on what I want to create, but the stage feels limited, almost suffocating. I want the audience to experience the performance in an intimate manner. How can I connect the dancers on the stage with the people watching? I ask myself more questions;
Is the dance piece about changing the perspective of space?
How is the movement seen from far away, or close up? The audience will have a different experience depending on where they sit. Up close is intimate, you see the beaded sweat drip on the stage. Far away is abstract — a full picture, no details to distract.
Why does the audience have to be in their cushioned seats? Can they experience the performance standing against the wall? Or maybe they can switch places — the audience on stage, the dancers in the cushioned seats.
…
We stumble along letting go of whatever preconceived idea we had. We change the formula and learn to free fall. That’s when you discover the good stuff.
Art ain’t easy, but when you allow yourself to journey on a new path, the grander the view becomes. Sometimes there are construction heaps in the way, but if you persist and challenge yourself to break through them, you’ll come out the other side with who knows what. Wasn’t it worth it — breaking through the barriers that trap our minds.
The end result is not always going to be an applause, sometimes it will be a thud of silence. Yet, I guarantee, that every time you break your mold, you’ll learn something from it. The lesson may not be apparent immediately, but perseverance will lead the way. Failures are the great teachers. They wake up your senses. Through sweat equity you’ll earn the Courage Badge. It takes courage to challenge your own mind, your traditional way of thinking and doing.
It’s Art that teaches — observation, process, patience.
It’s Art and all of its possibilities.
