The Art of Knowing When It's Finished
Sometimes I think my best art is my journal writing just between me and God. There is no pressure to be liked. There is no fear of being wrong. There is no insecurity about someone else’s art being better than mine. There is no worry that someone might think I’m cheesy or lame or too cynical or too cheerful. I just say what I’m thinking and feeling, and he hears.
Those unedited ramblings probably are not great quality art for others to see, although I’m sure they contain a few little gems here and there. But still, I wish all our creations could be that free. The process is what I enjoy. I don’t have to worry about the finished product.
Unfortunately, in this world, it is not all journaling and exploring our feelings in the comfort of our recliner chairs… The reality is that we are concerned with the end result much of the time. Whether we are artists by profession or as a hobby, there is pressure to perform and for others to connect with and admire our work. The hardest reality to face as an artist is that not everyone will like me or my work.
There was a period in my life when this reality put my creativity completely on hold. The fear of not being liked was overpowering. A friend of mine suggested, “What if you continue to create art, but instead of worrying about what the end product will be, give it as an offering to God? And if he decides to use it, he will.” This was great advice, and something I really needed to hear. But to be honest, it’s a bit like Jesus saying to not worry. He makes the great point that no one can add an hour to their lives by worrying, but agreeing with someone intellectually doesn’t mean I can put it into practice. That involves a change in mindset, and the mind is a powerful thing: it can be our best helper or become our worst enemy.
“The mind is a powerful thing: it can be our best helper or become our worst enemy.”
In his book The Creative Act: A Way of Being, famous record producer Rick Rubin says:
“The people who choose to do art are, many times, the most vulnerable. There are singers considered among the best in the world who can’t bring themselves to listen to their own voice. And these are not rare exceptions” (p 74).
He continues this theme of artists’ insecurity when he says:
“One of the reasons so many great artists die of overdoses early in their lives is because they’re using drugs to numb a very painful existence. The reason it’s painful is the reason they became artists in the first place: their incredible sensitivity…. These charged emotions, powerful when expressed in the work, are the same dark clouds that beg to be numbed to allow sleep or to get out of bed…. It’s a blessing and a curse” (p 75).
Creative people can be very sensitive. So to combine that personality with the pressures that come along with creating and performing takes a toll emotionally. Maybe our help, especially when it comes to creating and enjoying the process, needs to come from outside of our minds.
In the 1987 romantic comedy Roxanne, Steve Martin’s character (C.D. Bales) struggles with insecurity over a very large nose. He is a headcase about it. Anyone who looks at his nose the wrong way or makes a comment about it gets a bruising. But one day, everything changes. The woman he loves loves him back. That day when someone insults his nose, he does not beat him up. When asked about his lack of volatility he answers, “Because yesterday... she didn't. But today... she does.”
Love changes everything.
“To share art that you feel insecure about and that never feels finished is to share hope with your fellow insecure brothers and sisters in this life.”
C.D. Bales could have gone to a million therapists, received the best advice in the world, or tried his hardest to not get defensive about his nose, but there is nothing more powerful than being loved unconditionally.
In the same way, Jesus’ love changes everything for us.
I think the song “Because He Lives,” by Bill and Gloria Gaither expresses it best:
“Because he lives, I can face tomorrow. Because he lives, all fear is gone. Because I know he holds the future. And life is worth the living just because he lives.”
Oh, what wonderful news. Jesus brings meaning into every single little thing we do: every brush stroke, every lyric, every note, every keystroke, every pencil mark… every single thing has meaning “just because he lives.”
Knowing that Jesus lives (and loves me) gives me the freedom as an artist to care and to not care. Covered in Christ’s love and guided by the power of the Holy Spirit, I have the freedom to imitate my Creator by creating and expressing through the means of art… These works may become a product that others enjoy or may just be between God and me. Either way, he loves them. Most importantly, he loves you and me.
We are free to create and free from the power of other people’s opinions. But the question remains: How do we know when to share art or to keep it tucked in our own journals? When is it safe to call something a “finished” product?
Rick Rubin, again, gives some great practical advice on this front:
“We tend to think that what we’re making is the most important thing in our lives and that it’s going to define us for all eternity. Consider moving forward with the more accurate point of view that it’s a small work, a beginning” (p 77).
I love thinking about our creations as a “beginning” like Rubin describes it. Because when you ask yourself if a work of art is finished, the answer to that is “no” 100% of the time in this world. Until Jesus returns and makes all things complete and perfect, our work will always be imperfect. It is a comfort to know that all art, even “finished” art hung in a gallery or recorded on an album is not truly finished… it is just something that was shared with others at a certain point in the process. That’s what makes art so relatable. As Twenty One Pilots puts it, “Don’t trust a perfect person and don’t trust a song that’s flawless” (Lane Boy). The truth is that there is no such thing as a perfect person or a song that’s flawless, so if it seems that way, it’s not an honest or real expression.
To me, the best art expresses honest, imperfect, and humble human emotions and brokenness, while at the same time pointing to the hope we have in a perfect God who will someday make all things right and complete. What a gift from God to be able to share our unfinished art with one another in a relatable and beautiful way. To share art that you feel insecure about and that never feels finished is to share hope with your fellow insecure brothers and sisters in this life. Could I say more? Probably, but I will leave it at that… a beginning.