Artists: Why prithee, doth we suffer so?
Are we suffering no more than any other vocation, it’s just that we suffer louder and in a more dramatic fashion?
Since the Romantic period in literature, and a decade or so later in music, we have internalized the concept that creativity and suffering are inherently linked. That we will end up, “Wandering as a cloud” this vast wasteland of anguish and emptiness…
This is nonsense.
A recent study showed that artists don’t react positively to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy anywhere near to the rest of the population. Artists tend towards more physical-centered therapies - so we can FEEL the difference. So something about our psychophysiology seems to be unique.
Is a little awareness and knowledge a dangerous thing? Does diving into an Art cause us to look inside so deeply that things become too much and too many?
Or did we come to Art because we were different in the first place? I know I had no choice. I’ve been impelled to do what I do (and don’t do) my entire life - and my relationships with voice, conducting and yoga seem to continue to be fraught with furry little land mines.
We chose this thing because we loved it. It brought us joy. Didn’t we? And once we start “taking it seriously” and studying it, especially at the University level, the joy, for some, can become fleeting. I’ve veered from many artistic paths to others many times.
When we are first attracted, are we attracted to the Ideal (which is real, btw) without realizing the hard work ahead, and then when reality sets in... ? Is that the sound of a idealistic bubble bursting?
Would there be some way that our artistic process might be steeped in solace, comfort, joy, curiosity and safety?
I don’t have the answers... just thought to ask some questions.
