There’s this great artist I see all the time at World Cafe in Asheville. He’s always there, and he’s always working on something. Usually in charcoal or pastels.
One of the things I love about him is that he’s not looking for anyone’s approval. He’s just drinking his coffee, creating his art.
This is not someone worried about what anyone else thinks, or whether anyone else will like it or not. He’s not fishing for compliments. And he’s certainly not looking for someone to critique his work and give him advice on how to improve.
He’s only thinking about the image taking shape beneath his hands.
He’s improving his art in the only way you CAN improve it — by simply doing the work. Piece by piece. Canvas by canvas.
You can probably imagine how often students send me emails asking if I will “critique” their work.
I always sigh when I see those emails. On the one hand, I’m happy that they’re taking their work seriously, and I’m flattered that they would ask my opinion of what they’re creating …
But on the other hand … what can I really offer them?
I mean, really.
Apart from reassuring them that they’re on the right track, or pointing out the obvious beginner stuff (a layer mask in need of more attention, a bit of typography that just looks obtrusive), most of what ANYone can offer another artist is mere opinion — what THEY might have done (or tried to do) differently.
Would it be better that way? Who knows?
And so much of what moves us artistically is a mere matter of taste or inclination anyway.
One person might swoon over abstract work, another might despise it. One might love images with pretty women dressed as faeries, another might gag and declare the entire genre played out. One might adore minimalist black and white images, another might only really like colorful painterly works.
It would be real boring if everyone liked the exact same stuff.
And what makes it more complicated is that within any given KIND of art — any given genre, or approach — there is clearly a wide range of talent to be displayed. We see that all the time. And it’s natural: beginners aren’t going to be as talented as artists who have been honing their craft for years.
Which is why, often as not, the only REAL advice you can give someone early on is: “Looks great. Keep at it!”
Whatever “it” might be to that particular artist.
Wherever “it” might carry them.
Because here’s the important thing, and of this I am absolutely convinced:
The ONLY thing that matters is that YOU find what kind of art YOU wish to create — without regard to anything else anyone else might like, or anything anyone else might think — and that you put in the years of work to become masterful at creating it.
That’s the whole enchilada.
Decide what you want to create … then get busy creating it as well as you can.
And trust me on this one: resist the urge to stop along the way (especially early on!) to obsess over whether a particular image is “good” or not, or worry about how it might be made “better.”
Forget that. It’s just one image. When it’s done, it’s done. Move on to something new.
You’ve got a LOT more art to create.
And really, at any given point in time, while we all want some kind of reassurance, I think we all have a fairly clear idea of how good we are. A close enough approximation at least. And we all know we can get better. And then better still. And then better yet.
Which is why there’s no sense in obsessing over any particular piece. Especially when you’re pretty new to the whole thing. It’s just one piece. You’re going to create HUNDREDS of works of art. Just get busy.
So, to repeat, your job as an artist comes down to just two things:
1.) Find the kind of art you most wish to create.
2.) Work to become really, really, really good at creating it … not by obsessing over any particular image, but simply by putting in the time creating a LOT of images.
You do that, and everything else takes care of itself.
– Sebastian