Making art can become dishearteningly difficult.

These “difficulties” can often paralyze artists or send them into a downward spiral of un-creativity or inactivity with no foreseeable end.

So how do we overcome this?  How does art get done in the first place?

I ask myself these questions often because I’ll find myself not “finishing” pieces or series.  I’ve got a hard drive with terabytes of images that need second and third looks.  I’ve got folders and “albums” in my image editing library that should be done with test prints made and uploaded to my online gallery.

As a visual and thinking type, I often find that the images, or artwork, that I haven’t quite completed may better than what I do have finished, even if it’s all just in my head.

While this may be a case of being “my own worst critic” it’s certainly possible that I struggle with a different set of difficulties that prevent me from completing my works.

This isn’t about distractions.  I’m increasingly becoming better at avoiding those.

Perhaps it’s because I struggle with that common fear that almost all artists struggle with: No one cares!

Okay…that’s putting it very simply.  But there’s truth behind those thoughts.

Consider that today, working as an artist, means living in a world filled with doubt and contradiction.  It means doing something that no one really cares whether you do it or not.  It means creating work that may or may not have an audience and may or may not have any reward.

So I set aside, inasmuch as I can, these doubts so that I can see, not only what I’ve done, but that the path that I’m headed has some sort of fruit to bear.

It means I have to find, however hard it may be, the self nourishment and fulfillment within the work itself.

Sometimes…this is a cat and mouse game.  I’m just not sure if I’m supposed to be the cat or the mouse.

One of the things that I’ve had to battle internally is this whole notion of what it means to be a photographer.  More specifically an art photographer.  Even more specific I suppose would be “artist”.

I used to be a “professional photographer”.

Big deal.

I used to charge thousands of dollars to take pictures at people’s weddings.

Big deal.

I have over a decade of experience with a camera to my eye.

Bid deal.

Now?

I haven’t made very much money directly from my photography in a while.

Making the switch from a working pro to an artist is probably harder than starting from scratch.  There’s this whole stigma that follows you.

“Oh…you used to do weddings.  That’s nice.”

You kinda get that from the gallery owners and art buyers.

I need to stop telling them that.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling a bit bogged down by financial worries, or just thinking about how this will all pan out, I think about the knowledge I have now and how I could easily tear up this town doing weddings and portraits again.  With my knowledge of website building, SEO, tons of built in contacts throughout the community (especially in the right tax bracket), I could easily become one of the top wedding photographers in West Texas.

But that’s not what I want.

It really wasn’t ever what I wanted.

At one time, sure, it mades sense.  Sometimes, financially, it still makes sense.

But man…I hate shooting weddings.

How much of what we do as artists is “reaching”?

I happen to think that the answer is quite a bit.  Or rather…way too much?

One might think that the real question should be: What are we “reaching” for?

As artists we tend to be introspective or perhaps retrospective.  I suppose it just means we are, in one shape or another, looking at some sort of perspective.  Whether it’s our own perspective or it’s an attempt at twisting the viewer’s perspective seems irrelevant to me right now.

In fact, the question at hand, “What are we reaching for?” is irrelevant to me right now.

I personally don’t care what you’re reaching for.  Nor, do I think, should you care what I’m reaching for, insofar as some convoluted or self prescribed perspective is concerned.

Truthfully, if you’re reaching for some predetermined outcome, or outcry, from me, when I see your art, you’re going to be sadly disappointed.  The same is going to be true for me.  If I, somehow, after battling my own low self worth as an artist, delusion myself into thinking that you’ll perceive what I want you to perceive when you look at my art…I’m going to be sadly disappointed.  It’s happened before and it’ll happen again.

The question that I’m most concerned with right now is WHY…why are we “reaching”?

I mean…is it drive?  Is there some “thing” that drives artists to create?

Why?

So that one day…after one of my photographs or paintings is sitting in some collector’s home that a critic or collector or curator or whomever will prove that I, a brilliant and poignant photographer, had a good eye for irony and hypocrisy, or composition, or juxtaposition, or whatever…

Crap.  It’s all crap.

Yet tomorrow…just like today…something will compel me (perhaps even drive me) to “reach” for some way to connect with my viewers/future collectors…whatever.

© 2010 Damien Franco On Photography Suffusion WordPress theme by Sayontan Sinha