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When I was a young man in NY, I would meet artists who would say to me, you are not an artist, because you only play other people's music. A composer is an artist, but not you. Even from older folks, who should have known better. I thought this is not fair, because, after all, I suffer like an artist!

The suffering of artists - is just like that of other people, only slightly different. Someone might say, oh I am untalented and stupid, and that is suffering. I will earn money and raise a family and watch the ball game or cook dinner. An artist says, oh I am untalented and stupid, and I am compelled by some inner urge to create something which might be awful and make me ashamed and embarrassed. (And probably won't earn me any money, but that is another blog).

So, all artists that I know encounter this demon, the same one we all encounter but some manage to avoid, maybe by unfortunate collusion, that says we are worthless and have nothing to say or lack the capacity to carry out whatever it is that we wish to do. Just when you think you have a handle on it: see, I can prove that I'm good, I did this or that to demonstrate it, then it gets really bad, like a general conspiracy between inner and outer forces to strangle the creative impulse. So, artists devise ways to hide what they do even from themselves, so as not to attract the evil eye.

Labels: suffering of artists