BLANK CANVAS

It’s what every artist starts with.

At an art exhibition with one of my daughters recently—as a prelude to our dinner date—we noted with a strange ardour the fascinatingly vibrant and different “moods” captured by the featured artists.

Yet, each artist started with a blank canvas.

His or her creation commences with a passion—a curious passion and a creative tension that burns to be eased. What takes place then in the mind is but a concept—beyond words—but its expression is urgent. It begs to be discovered.

As the artist breaks out in colour and brush strokes, their movements are at times seamless—an anointed creation is in progress. The “process” in and of itself is art, not simply the finished product.

And with final touches, a nuance-adjustment here and there, it goes up—for all to see and admire.

But, the artist doesn’t rest—there’s always the next creation, and the next and so on. He or she doesn’t do it for the kudos—they do it for the art itself. They’re won simply to their calling.

And yet, we’re all artists!

Our purpose is our art. We find it and we paint passionately. It takes us and we’re in love with it. It becomes us and we, it. Fused in this way we can see how single-minded we can become and hence balance is then required; a balance that supports and complements the purpose. Without his balance we spin out of the centrifuge of necessary rhythm and power.

The golden art of life is to find that purpose that we fall for; everyone has it—it simply needs to be found.

A blank canvas is an exciting reality, but it’s also an incredible tease. The blank canvas is in this respect nothing to become depressed about or afraid of—the “work” ahead.

The work is a labour of devoted love.

© 2010 S. J. Wickham.