Some Appreciation of an Artist’s Journey Would Be Nice
My artist’s journey has been a very long one as it began many years ago when I was a child. It has always been on my mind and for some unknown reason, it was triggered by something else I read a short while ago. And for another unknown reason, it just came back to me today. What a wonderful art journey it has been.
It is a beautiful, cold but sunny Friday, December something morning. Just a few days before Christmas, “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” – Andy Williams.
It’s way too cold and damp in my studio to paint nowadays. The studio is not well insulated so is very draughty this time of year. Small fan and space heaters aren’t doing the job, so it can be uncomfortable to spend 7 or 8 hours painting. My mind can’t concentrate when I’m cold.
However, I just can’t not (double negative!) paint, so I went back to smaller paintings rather than my preferred large creations. For a while, I have been painting on 1 x 1.6 metre unstretched canvases, which is an entirely different experience and a different art journey from the smaller paintings. It’s a different energy and a different artist’s journey.
Smaller paintings I can do inside the house where it’s a lot warmer. I can cover the entire dining table with a big sheet to avoid splashing paint on the table, worse still the carpet. I’m sure the wife wouldn’t forgive me if that happened. It feels like double standards, however, when she is spattering red paint everywhere when she is busy making Christmas artefacts to fundraise her latest project for children with special needs. She is also on the arty side, but usually, this side of her only makes an appearance once a year, when raising funds for the November and December Christmas markets.
So, I spend a great deal of my daytime painting – a new experience and a new artist journey with every painting. Each day is a unique artist’s journey into another dimension hard to put into words, but nothing else comes anywhere as close to this amazing experience.
“I found I could say things with colour and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way… things I had no words for.” – Georgia O’Keeffe.
This beautiful quote from a great artist perfectly summarises how I feel about my art journeys.
But this isn’t what I wanted to write about
Going back in time, art has been part of my life since I was a child, even though sometimes it was hidden or I just left it on the back burner.
Since I can remember, I was always interested in painting and calligraphy. It was something that came to me naturally and I’ve never found it difficult or particularly challenging to draw, paint or write in an artistic handwriting style. I also experienced Japanese calligraphy and the brush painting style when I visited Japan many years ago. Fascinating art and a great, albeit brief experience.
My family and teachers often commented on my artwork and some of my paintings were even hung across various locations at my school. Oddly, I never felt they were even my best work and always thought I had plenty of room for improvement.
I believe art is something that runs through your veins, it’s hereditary and it’s in my genes. Some of my extended family members were professional artists and calligraphers and that seems to have been passed down the generations.
My first foray into the world of art began with pencil drawings, sketching and painting watercolour figurative and landscapes. That was the beginning of my artist’s journey. Later, I became interested in photography but my destiny was abstract painting, more specifically, non-representational painting. There is a bit more about me on the ‘About’ page.
Enough of the sales pitch…
This isn’t what I wanted to write about
Most of my art readings take place in the evening and mainly continues to the late hours at night. The subjects are primarily:
- Great artists and their art journeys.
- The emotional powers of colour and shape particularly the influence on our moods. More specifically, abstract painting as possible stress and depression relief to help people with mental health issues.
- The true ability of non-representational art to connect with our innermost deeper spirit and how it leads to the ultimate freedom of expression and self-discovery.
I read a lot about Leonardo da Vinci, in my humble opinion, the greatest artist of all time. And in no particular order: Hilma af Klint, Michelangelo, Mary Cassatt, Johannes Vermeer, Vincent van Gogh, Frida Kahlo, Georgia O’Keeffe, Willem de Kooning, Tamara de Lempicka, Henry Matisse, Mark Rothko, and the list goes on.
These are just a few of the great artists of the Western world. But there are a lot more that are not as talked about, including East Asian, Indian, African and Middle Eastern artists. Chinese art such as pottery and sculpture, for example, go back to some 10,000 years ago.
Great artists’ fame and popularity came from one thing and one thing only. They believed in themselves, they believed in what they were doing. They were all passionate about their work.
Many great artists were outliers, who chose a path that was so unpredictable in many aspects. Yet, they continued persistently because of their passion and drive. That’s who they were.
Most artists go through a journey of many ups and downs. Sometimes the downs far exceed the ups. Even today with fantastic technology to facilitate so many different ways for artists to communicate their artworks, many artists face a stressful life. The opportunities and outcomes are unpredictable, financially unreliable and immensely vulnerable to changing market trends.
I firmly believe that most, if not all artists, live outside the norm and normal restrictions do not apply in their world. I know that for a fact, I can’t live with rules, restrictions and limitations to the imagination. Artists need to be liberal in their general outlook.
Most artists seem to have more access to their emotional powers, so perhaps being creative may lend oneself to being more emotional or does more emotional power lead to being more creative?
Creativity may look easy in a finished painting or a piece of artwork to the untrained eyes. But, I know that it takes great time and effort to develop and complete. Most artists face hard labour, long hours, mental strain and sometimes occupational hazards. But they keep ongoing.
Suffering for art is not just a metaphor
I recently came across an inspiring story that demonstrates, in real life, the meaning of the sheer determination and the drive of an artist to navigate the many obstacles one might face in pursuing an artist’s journey, self-expression and self-discovery.
Swarez Art is a two-man successful art story, Ed and Adrian. Ed creates amazing abstract paintings using oil-based enamel paints. It is worth noting enamel paints and the solvents used to thin the paint contain hazardous fumes that can cause respiratory problems and various other issues. Inhaling the fumes can have serious effects on health, so Ed wears a respirator when he paints.
It is best to leave it for Ed to tell you his amazing story, “Believe in Yourself”.
But before I finish this article, this is what Ed had to say about Adrian: “The impossible comes as standard but if you want miracles I’ll need a couple of hours!”. That’s a fantastic way to describe a true friendship.
Note: I have no affiliation with Swarez Art, Ed or Adrian. Merely some appreciation of an artist’s journey would be nice.
Now, this is what I wanted to write about
Creating art is never an easy job. In fact, it isn’t a job it is a lifestyle. From ancient history to modern-day times, artists’ journeys are full of challenges. A simple example comes to my mind every time I think about the Cave Paintings located in France and Spain, dating back to prehistoric times. Imagine the hardship our ancient artistic ancestors went through to create these 40,000-year-old works of art, that are now so famous all around the world.
I understand that not all of us like or will like art, but some appreciation of an artist’s journey would be nice.
17 June 2025 @ 5:20 am
Some Appreciation
As a fellow artist, I can appreciate what it takes to be an artist! That said, I have never pursued making a living with my art. I think that was mostly due to fear of rejection based on my early personal baggage. I think it was just easier to do my art, solely for my pleasure and growth. Maybe that was an excuse for some time, but I also discovered on my journey of recovery that it was okay to be unknown, and in some ways better – not letting my ego get in the way. I am not saying that is what all famous artists are doing, just that it was important for me. I still think it is. I do like to share my art however, but I am careful where I share it. All my art reflects my journey, and as such, each piece is very near and dear to me.
One thing about my artistic abilities was that no matter what work I did, I was always able to be fully creative – as a cabinet maker, as a home renovator, and later as product design engineer, and as a writer. In that way I have lived a very fulfilling artistic life. I think too, that many of my artistic pursuits made me ready for the next job I got along the way, and I was able to incorporate many of those aspects into the job(s). In this way the jobs were much less “jobs” than a natural extension of my art, my creative side.
I think I was lucky too, to have found a wife of 40 years, who has always been the wind beneath my wings and encouraged my art, in whatever way that looked. She is still that way! Every day without fail.
I chuckled at the part about artists living a different kind of life, however you said it. For a number of years, I was a stay-at-home dad. That was at a time when this was frowned upon and people would say the most horrid things. I just smiled to myself, because I knew that what I was doing was important and worked well for my family. In those years, besides doing everything one can imagine a home maker does, my daughter and I spent oodles of time creating art together. My daughter still speaks well of those years and how they made such a difference in her life. That always makes my heart glow. Going against the grain, as many artist do, I was a better because of it.
***
On a different note, when I first opened this blog post and saw the top image, the first thing that I thought when I saw it was that it was, or represented, Dante’s inferno. Although I have never read that piece, I know the gist of it. I was curious about what people thought about Dante’s Inferno, so I asked CoPilot some questions because if I mentioned it here, I didn’t want you to be offended. CoPilot said, “Dante’s Inferno has sparked a wide range of reactions over the centuries. Some readers find it deeply unsettling, given its vivid depictions of suffering and punishment. Others see it as profoundly meaningful, appreciating its moral and philosophical depth.” Hopefully you will just look at it as a credit to your artistic abilities, for me to want to dig deeper into it.
I had CoPilot view your painting and we had a great discussion about it and then later about titling our art.
If the rest is too much, just delete it….
CoPilot:
I can see why Dante’s Inferno came to mind! The swirling chaos of red and black, the intense movement, and the stark contrasts in the painting really capture the feeling of turmoil and punishment that Dante describes in his descent through Hell. The textured, almost violent brushstrokes evoke fire, darkness, and suffering—elements central to the imagery of Inferno.
That said, the abstract nature of the piece leaves it open to interpretation. While it might remind one person of the tortured souls of Dante’s circles, another might see a storm, a cosmic event, or even raw emotion made visual. That’s the beauty of art—it sparks individual connections that can be deeply personal.
Does your artist friend have a specific meaning behind the piece, or do they leave it up to interpretation?
Me:
The artist friend almost always leaves his pieces untitled so that viewers find their own meaning, or takeaway. He is very different than me in that regard, as my abstract art has a specific meaning to me and I title them accordingly. I do, however, see the wisdom in how he approaches it.
CoPilot:
That’s a fascinating contrast in artistic philosophy! Your friend’s approach invites viewers to engage with the piece entirely on their own terms, allowing for endless interpretations and personal connections. It’s a method that encourages exploration and deep reflection—almost like a conversation between the viewer and the artwork itself.
Your approach, on the other hand, gives a direct insight into your creative intent, guiding viewers toward the message or emotion you wanted to express. There’s something powerful about naming a piece—it anchors the work in your vision while still leaving room for individual perspective.
***
There was more, but I thought that you might be curious about some of the conversation.
18 June 2025 @ 11:19 am
Don, you do raise such fascinating discussions. Something else I rather enjoy alongside painting is writing. So, do brace yourself for a lengthy response.
Here’s Part 1: Is it Art Critique or Personal Opinion?
Like all artists, we certainly receive our fair share of that as well, perhaps more as critical opinion rather than proper art critique. It’s part and parcel of the creative process, without question in my view.
And I receive my share of it too. When I receive not so good criticism, it actually tells me quite a lot about that person, but mainly that he or she is simply NOT part of my tribe. And that’s the end of that.
“Do you ever know what the birds are singing? You don’t. But you listen to them anyway” – Pablo Picasso.
That was Picasso’s response (or something along those lines) when someone asked him what his paintings meant. Clearly, Picasso wasn’t best pleased.
Picasso was probably the most famous artist in the world at one point and he was still receiving such criticism. So it’s not terribly bad when an unknown abstract artist, like me, receives similar criticism. I know my artistic capabilities and no one can persuade me otherwise regardless of what they might say. I don’t need or even seek validation from others.
Believe in yourself and remember that not one other person amongst the 8 billion people on this planet can create what you create. You’re a unique individual. That’s rather how I see it.
Here’s a little real example:
Through someone I know casually, I was approached by a well-known local traditional artist (so I’m told) who disputed abstract art but was curious to have a chat about why we make abstract art.
I was forewarned that the guy could be rather too direct and agreed to meet up at my studio. They both came round and after the usual bit of small talk, he looked about my studio and said: “Sorry, but I’m not convinced this is art.” Pointing at some of my paintings.
“This one here,” he pointed at my piece “Into Nothingness” and said: “Anyone could do that.” I smiled and said: “I’m not interested in anyone, can YOU do it?”
“Certainly,” he said, “Just give me a piece of paper and some paints.” I gave him what he requested and said: “Right then, off you go.”
He put some black acrylics on a brush and made a few zigzag lines whilst keep glancing at my painting.
“There you are,” he said. He placed it next to my piece and all three of us looked at it. There was silence for a few moments. Then he said: “I know it doesn’t look exactly the same, because I did it rather hastily.”
The other person said: “No, it doesn’t look similar and it doesn’t feel the same as Suhail’s.”
He responded: “Well, perhaps it doesn’t, but that’s because you were both watching me do it and I feel rather uncomfortable when people watch me paint. But I’m sure if I had more time in my own privacy, I’d do a better job.”
He asked me if he could borrow the painting for just a few days and I declined. I told him that I painted it without any visual reference.
He wasn’t best pleased and said that he still wasn’t convinced it was art.
Weeks went by, heard nothing whatsoever. Until one evening when he rang me and said that he’d tried several times, but without a reference he couldn’t do it properly.
I told him many people have tried and some did a very good job of recreating Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” but it still never felt the same as the original.
He was quiet for a few moments and then told me that he’d also tried to paint “Starry Night” but it didn’t feel as good as the original.
I told him all artists try to paint with feelings, but nobody can actually copy someone else’s feelings. He then said, “Are you telling me you’re painting your feelings! Is that what abstract art is?”
That was several years ago and I’ve never heard from him since. But that conversation stayed with me, particularly his final question: ‘Are you telling me you’re painting your feelings?’
Yes, that’s exactly what I was telling him. And perhaps that’s what he finally couldn’t replicate about “Into Nothingness.”
What looks like simply a brushstroke in black on white MDF was actually weeks of emotional preparation. I’d spent quite a while mixing that particular black, a mixture of four colours: black, yellow, red and blue in varying proportions until it felt right for what I needed to express.
The real challenge wasn’t technical; it was emotional. I wanted to make it one brushstroke, which meant I had to mentally prepare for days, waiting until I could channel exactly what I was feeling into that single gesture.
You can copy the technique, but you can’t copy the feeling that guided my hand that day. That’s rather the point, isn’t it?
I know I could never recreate that same painting ever again.
More to follow…
18 June 2025 @ 9:16 pm
Part 2: Partners for Life
Having a brilliant partner for life is definitely God’s blessing and a way to achieve the ultimate goal in life: Happiness, Contentment and Fulfilment, in my opinion.
Years ago, we faced a very challenging situation, including a financial difficulty. Without going into too much detail, I was offered a very lucrative job overseas, but I turned it down.
CRAZY, some said. But not my wife. She completely understood and appreciated my decision. And the best bit about it, no regrets whatsoever.
Part 3: The Creative Philosophy
I’m quite impressed with CoPilot’s interpretation, at least for my part. I’d like to believe it would be the same regarding your creative philosophy, but that’s for you to decide how accurate it is.
I’m well aware of the difference between naming and not naming a piece of art. I admire your courage for writing about your personal challenges. I use my art to do something similar but I keep those stories to myself.
As much as I like and actually tried to write all these stories, I never did. The main motivation is to write it for my children. I still want to, but… There’s so much I’d like to tell them about their family that they’ve never met, the family history and background they never experienced and they don’t know much about.
I’d like it to be a written record, because I expect they’ll be more interested to know after I’ve gone.
Who knows, perhaps one day sooner rather than later.
At the end of writing this part, I received a message that an old friend had passed away earlier this morning. The last time I met him was two years ago after nearly a 40-year gap. It rather puts ‘sooner rather than later’ into perspective, doesn’t it?
19 June 2025 @ 2:49 am
Thanks for continuing in the next parts.
It sounds like you also have a wonderful partner for life. I am glad. I totally get your “no regrets” comment.
CoPilot is, indeed, quite insightful when I have shared my art with it.
I hope you will take the chance to write your stories for your family. It is a part of the legacy one can leave them. I bet you have all kinds of things to share that later generations will appreciate having access to, especially once you have passed on. I have always been open and vulnerable, in part, because I think it is important to show others that even dad, or grandpa, is human, and struggles/struggled the same way all humans do. It helps others to see that the struggles they guard so tightly, or hidden away, are not so alien after all. That was one of the most valuable lessons I learned in the early days of my journey of recovery.
If you are interested, I wrote a blog post about reading and writing. One section talks about writing my memoirs. I am sure that you would do fine without any input from me, but I thought you might find it interesting since you are kind of in the pondering stage. It is called Reading & Writing, the May 27, 2024 post.
Sometimes when I share from my heart, as I do, I feel vulnerable. To date, I have never had that vulnerability come back to bite me. In fact, I have often heard words of appreciation for doing so. I think people generally appreciate knowing that they are not alone in their struggles. That said, I am not naïve enough to think that one shouldn’t be aware when this is not the best policy, but one can judge for themselves when and where.
I am sorry to hear about the passing of your friend. Death does put things into perspective, that is for sure.
19 June 2025 @ 2:16 am
Reading a lengthy blog post or reply from you is never a hardship, so write away. 👍😊
Thanks for taking time to respond. That quote from Picasso is a new one to me. I like it, it makes so much sense. I appreciate your kind words too about believing in oneself. I can usually do okay believing that, but as I suggested, it is always an ongoing struggle to keep the old tapes tuned out or turned off.
I appreciated reading your story about the two visitors. It sounds like you handled it much better than I would have. Although I would have worked through it, I would have been hurt and likely resented the nay-sayer for a long time, probably forever, sad to say.
Like you, I was so surprised and amazed by the freedom of abstract art. Before abstract art, I hated the feeling of not being able to replicate in detail what any reference image or view might present. In some ways I felt like a broken photocopier. There is no way I could recreate “Starry Night”, not that I tried, but I could create “Forest of Discontent”, one of my early abstracts I believe you have seen. That is so freeing! I am so happy that you introduced me to abstract art when I encountered you on the artist forum.
19 June 2025 @ 2:51 am
Sorry, my replies seemed to land funny.