Art is Lonely Business

Hemingway (or someone) once said: "Writing is lonely business." 

Whoever said this -- and it's been attributed to at least a dozen writers -- it's true of a lot of different types of art, mostly writing and painting. Why specifically writing and painting? Maybe just because these are the two types of creation I'm most familiar with. But these two art forms seem to be the most isolated and therefore lonely. I do not know many writers who can write with other people around, nor painters who like to paint in the middle of crowds. It can be done, but these are -- in general -- arts that are practiced alone. 

But even more than the physical isolation is one's loneliness in front of the blank page or blank canvas. That is the real loneliness. 

Night after night you stand on stage, and you have to perform. Only, you are not performing for a theater full of people, but for yourself, for your art. The blank canvas or blank page stares at you, taunting you. And each time it's like you've never painted before, or have nothing left to write. And each time, you must summon up the courage to put something on the canvas or on the page. There is nowhere to run. No lifeline to tap into. 

Well, let me rephrase that: you can certainly run. You can run away from it all your life. You can hide in other forms of entertainment or distraction. But the impulse to create will always be there. And the only way to be satisfied is to step up to the blank canvas and be brave enough to put something on it. Night after night. Day after day. Regardless of any thoughts of recognition or money or fame or any end result. 

Making art is lonely work. You must dig deep inside you when you think there is nothing left inside you. After your "real job" when others are relaxing or living their lives satisfied they have done their work for the day, is when your real work begins, when you must go to battle with the demons inside you telling you: "You are not good at this," or "You don't have anything to say," or "Other people are better than you, so you should quit." These demons will not rest. And neither can you. And there is no one out there who can save you, but yourself. 

I wish it could say it gets easier, but I don't know whether that's true. What I do know is the solution is just to keep going, keep creating. There is no other way than this. If you want to have a family, or friends, or pets for companionship, that's wonderful. But you will never have anyone who can step up and do your art for you, or anyone who can save you from the loneliness you face in front of the canvas. 

The upside is, if you are willing to face this loneliness and to step out on that limb and make your art, a vast world of riches awaits you, greater than any amount of money or physical riches you could amass in a lifetime. And it's waiting for you, every time you step up to the canvas. You may not achieve that every single time, on every painting/writing session, but those riches -- that high -- of reaching new creative heights, is always around the corner. You just have to have the guts to seek it out.