Becoming An Artist

Last night during a delicious and romantic dinner, my love and I discussed what it means to be creative, to create in general and what makes one an artist. Jim (or “Face” as I like to call him) is a CFO, and I think because of the corporate title doesn’t grasp that he is anything but corporate – at least his spirit isn’t. He has the heart of a poet and feels so much when it comes to music. (When did this blog become about my man, it actually isn’t. For those who’ve read previous blogs, you will come to understand that I often digress and my musings and wonderings can take me in ten different directions all at the same time. It’s a skill!)

For Christmas, I bought him a guitar. I knew he’d love it, have fun playing and be able to relax at the same time. I’ve seen him play his old electric guitar and he’s always singing. He lights up and all I can do is smile and have his creative energy envelope me. (And, I’ll selfishly admit, I knew he’d play for me whenever I asked. I KNOW A GOOD DEAL WHEN I SEE IT!)

So back to what makes one officially an artist. There are so many friends and loved ones of mine who tell me how they aren’t artists even though they act, write, dance, draw, paint, photograph, etc. It’s as if the only way you can claim you’re an artist is if you are either “starving” or making a living from it. I find that to be a load of crap! (Excuse the bluntness…) Jim didn’t consider himself creative because he’s not writing new music or lyrics and rather playing songs other artists wrote. He told me that as a writer, I’m by definition creative because I invent a world of words on a blank piece of paper.

Our conversation made me think of an old MASH episode. (Yes, I’m a MASH fan!) In any case, the episode is about a soldier who injured one of his hands and while they were able to save the hand, it did lose a lot of its dexterity. As it turned out, this soldier was a classical pianist and believed his world to be over. His surgeon, the character “Charles Emerson Winchester” ended up finding him music that was specifically translated for someone with only one hand. These translations were from famous classical artists – Mozart, Beethoven, etc. Charles who was classically trained on the piano told the soldier that while he can play these pieces he didn’t have inside of him what the pianist did. For Charles, he could just play the notes before him on the page. For the pianist, he played the music – it came from a place inside that couldn’t possibly be “trained” or “learned”.

I told Jim that it didn’t matter if he was playing music from another artist because he does more than play – he feels the music. I’m sure many of you have attended concerts where the music and words performed from an individual and/or a group seemed to appear as if a gift. It’s very true.

This past weekend, a dear friend gave me a beautiful necklace. Within the packaging was a saying which I think expresses best how any of us become artists:

We become artists when we see with our hearts instead of our eyes. – Anonymous

Here’s to a creative 2008!

~ by Michele Mattia on 2007, December 27.