My Symphony Epiphany

Recently I’ve had a few realizations that have shifted my perspective on painting. This semester, I’ve been getting overwhelmed by my ‘to paint’ album on my photos app. I used this album to organize references I want to paint eventually, but churning out piece after piece in this way started feeling monotonous, and sometimes the muses lacked their luster over time sitting in the folder. So I whittled away at my ‘to paint’ album last month, and finally finished the last small gouache piece from that album in late April. 

I decided that rather than experiencing the counter-intuitive overwhelm that I felt when looking through my ‘to paint’ album, I wanted to paint more in the moment, similar to plein air painting. So I’ve started allowing inspiration to announce itself organically. I haven’t been disappointed by this method so far, though it does feel a bit uncertain or possibly lacking focus, the process feels more immediate and the muse more fresh.

a recent plein air moment a park where I happened upon some youth rehearsing for a scene from Shakespeare

The purest form of the ‘being present’ method for me is plein air painting. The more I practice plein air, the more exciting it gets. Choosing a site, framing the composition, interpreting the scene, all within a certain time frame gets me into a flow state more quickly and more assuredly than any other painting practice I have. Also, being a completionist, coming away with a finished or nearly finished piece at the end of a session is deeply satisfying for me.

The other big realization I had recently was a concrete answer to my question ‘what’s the point?’ of making art. I’ll call this my ‘symphony epiphany’. Last weekend, my partner took me out to San Francisco to see Dvořák's New World. (I was prompted to go to the symphony after seeing my high school orchestra play so fantastically on a school field trip.) During the performance, I had a deeply emotional reaction: I realized that making music, making art, and essentially being creative in any form is an elevated state in humanity. It separates us from bigotry, cruelty, and hatred. (Yes, there were tears, much to my surprise and mild embarrassment.) I think I had to witness a creative act through the ulterior form of sound in order to realize that what I do isn’t trivial either. I am celebrating beauty and life, which is my shield against the horrors that some humans are deciding to impose on others.

San Francisco Orchestra getting ready to play Dvořák's New World

Soon I would like to clarify a theme that my creative direction is headed in, but for now, I am going to ride the wave of letting inspiration find me, and bask in the feeling that my creative acts are worthy not only of doing, but also of being seen by others.  I hope that whatever your creative endeavor might be, you feel it worthy of your time and energy, because I now believe that creative expression is a form of resistance in its own right.