1 April 2008 8 Comments

A plus, Art, Actually

This month of letters, this month an alphabet theme. I’m writing these to you, baby in my tummy. At this point I don’t know your gender, don’t know your personality, don’t know your face. But I want to. I can’t wait to.

I’m sorry, baby, for launching off with something so trite as an alphabet theme. This is just a format, a framework on which to hang my thinks. There are three here, three ideas I wanted to tell you that begin with the letter A.

(So I’ve drawn three letter A’s to accompany them.)

An A plus is rarely worth it.

An A plus is rarely worth it.

When studying for school, when striving for business, the A plus has never paid off for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve stayed up late studying,
I’ve put all that extra time in, and for what?
I pleased my teacher?
I demonstrated exemplary achievement?
I achieved the alienating feeling of being on top?

This is not to say I don’t want you to succeed.
It’s just that the difference between perfection and a job well done is so arbitrary.
It’s so arbitrary, I’d rather you chose exploration.

Save room for exploration.
Save room for fun.
Save room for questioning.

If you apply your time and skills solely for the purpose of pleasing some authority figure, you will be sad when you realize that the authority figure is just another complicated human, just like you. You will be disappointed to find out that the only person worth pleasing is you.

You will be elated to find out that the only person worth that effort is you.

Please, give a great effort,
please try your best,
please start early,
but know that as my child, you won’t be under constant A plus pressure.

Art is not as serious as they will make it.

Art is not as serious as they will make it.

In my lucky, lucky life, there have been oodles of classes in music, illustration and acting.

But what makes me sad about all of these classes is that they were cloaked in a seriousness that belied their actual application. To apply an artistic idea, you will need discipline to learn a skill, yes. However, the application of that idea requires a heart filled with joy, with enthusiasm, with non-competition.

These classes can breed competition, so much that when it’s just you and an easel, you may find yourself paralyzed by your imaginary competition.

This is not the spirit of art.
Art is not as serious as they will make it.

I encourage you to take classes in whatever artistic application speaks to you. If you like, I will accompany you to these classes, I will sit outside the door with my work just as my mother did for me. I will bring my knitting, my lists, my work.

Please find the joy in your artistic expression, whichever you choose.

Actually, this is only my experience.

Actually, this is only my experience

With my silly alphabet ideas, I want you to know that your life is your own. I decided to bring you into this world and for that, you owe me nothing. You have your life, your experience. I can only tell you what I’ve learned and hope it saves you some time making the same mistakes.

(It’s how we move forward as a species.)

I hope you help move us forward with your experiences.

I have to stop now because my damn Bluetooth keyboard keeps kicking out. Of course, by the time you read this, there will be better working, more comprehensive wireless user interface devices, but that’s for another letter.