Art, Nature, & Living

Vertex
© Lawrence Duncan

The most recent Southwest Art Magazine (December ‘08) honors 20 legendary western artists. Each of these artists is 70 years old or older, and each has been at the top of the western art scene for decades. They are gifted, successful, and influential artists. (Among the list are several that I have admired for years: James Reynolds, Richard Schmid, David Leffel, Kenneth Riley, and Howard Terpning.)

As I read the interviews, I was intrigued by the similarity of the answers to many of the questions. One particular theme caught my attention. Each artist interviewed expressed this same idea in his or her own words. To summarize: "Art is not easy. It is extremely difficult. It takes a lot of time, effort, practice, etc… Many people think it comes easily or naturally."

This sparked several ideas and thoughts in my mind. I will share only a few of my thoughts.

I agree with each of the artists’ assertion that creating art is extremely difficult and requires a tremendous amount of work, practice, determination, etc… However, included in the list of attributes an artist has is also talent. Some shy away from using that word, because it implies success without work. On the contrary, work is essential to the development of talents. Clark Hulings stated it well, "Most of us artists have a gift. But a gift is an inclination and some small ability to do something along with a great deal of application and hard work."

Interestingly, I often hear people talk about someone who plays an instrument well or who excels at sports. There is usually a comment made about how much practice and time was devoted to achieve such a high level of skill. Yet those same people making those comments see an artist’s work and say something to the effect of, "What talent you have!"

In reality, there is no difference between the musician, the athlete, or the visual artist. Each has a great gift or ‘talent’. However, each must also perspire. Each must practice long and hard. Each is never satisfied with mediocrity. To attain greatness each must push the limits, train, learn, practice, fail often, but get back up and learn from the failures. There are frequent successes, but there is also the realization that there is still much more to learn. A huge component is the unrelenting desire to become the best. It is a passion, almost an obsession. Being an artist (or musician, athlete, etc.) comes with a price, but it is gratifying.

I do not pretend to know the magical recipe of how many parts talent, how much determination, nor how many dashes of luck is required for an artist to succeed. As for me, I intend to work as hard as I can to ensure that I reach my fullest potential. I want to find out how much talent is still in its infancy, waiting to be nurtured. I also hope that luck favors me along the way.

This article is reproduced with permission.
Copyright 2008 ~ Keith Bond.

Learn More about Keith Bond at:
www.keithbond.com

This article originally appeared at the following URL:
www.keithbond.com/blog/6727

Cyanide Millipede
© Lawrence Duncan

Here in the lush temperate rain forests of the Pacific Northwest there lives a small little creature known as the cyanide millipede, also referred to as Harpaphe haydeniana. Without a bone in its entire body, this little critter grows to about two inches long and will live for only about two or three years.

But don’t let the small size of H. haydeniana fool you: of all the creatures in the forest, from the ferns, flowers, and trees, to the birds, bears, and cougars, the cyanide millipede is one of the absolutely most influential creatures in the entire ecosystem. Without it, the forest would be a very different place indeed.

The cyanide millipede plays its role as the principal “shredder” of the forest, chewing up leaf litter and other plant parts that fall from the canopy above. This may sound like a pretty lowly task, but the effects of this shredding are truly profound.

The vast majority of minerals and nutrients that forest species require to live are found in the living creatures themselves. And so when a tree dies or loses its leaves, or a flower has finished flowering, the essential nutrients that it holds are bound within its parts that will become detritus on the forest floor.

Enter our friend the cyanide millipede: It has been estimated that more than 50% of all leaf litter passes through the guts of this humble little creature. And in so doing, the nutrients available to other creatures in the forest are increased by about 40,000 times!

It’s this kind of “recycling” that allows the forest to continue to rebuild itself, freeing minerals and nutrients to percolate through its complex systems, from one creature to the next, to the next, until finally the cycle is started all over again.

Next time you see a gargantuan 300 foot tall Douglas fir tree that has been alive for perhaps 1,000 years, remember also the millipede. It is thanks to this little two inch long fellow, crawling around on the forest floor and chewing on dead leaves and twigs, that the forest as whole is the wonder that it is.

For art, nature, & living,
~ Obadiah Green

Further Reading:

Wikipedia: Harpaphe haydeniana
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harpaphe_haydeniana

Concepts in Ecosystem Management: Underground Ecosystems
http://www.fs.fed.us/r6/olympic/ecomgt/unecosys/undergrd.htm

Mostly Millipedes
http://www.humboldt.edu/~natmus/newsletter/Miriapoda/index.html

Species Harpaphe haydeniana – BugGuide.net
http://bugguide.net/node/view/15008

Forest Ecophysiology & Ecohydrology Telemetry Transect
http://oregonstate.edu/feel/

Inspired Little Tree
© Lawrence Duncan

With so much of our lives spent surrounded by concrete and steel, it’s easy to feel disconnected with the nature of which we are a part. Easy to forget that the Sun is making its way across the sky, that the wind is rustling in the trees, and that the bees are busily making their way from one bright and colorful flower to the next.

There was a fellow I used to know that liked to where moccasins. And if you ever asked him why, he would often relate a little story: A story of a technological future where people are completely isolated from the natural wonders of the world, and where the technology has come to be the only environment in which they live. He would tell the story:

“Imagine a time in the future where the entire world is wholly encased in technology, concrete, glass, and steel. A place and time where people wake up in the morning not feeling the warming rays of the sun, nor breathing in the subtle scents of the still morning air.

Protected by layers of synthetic rubber and more concrete, one makes their way to a nearby transport vehicle, never once coming in contact with the ground and Earth that is hidden just underneath the layers of man-made abstraction.

The vehicle hurries off, shuttling its occupants to yet another facility that is wholly encased and sealed off from the now warming morning air and golden sunlight. Many hours later, the vehicle reverses its course, hurriedly whisking its occupants back to the shelter of filtered, ventilated air of their living unit once again.

And not even once do these technologically-based beings come into contact with the ground and Earth that is the same ground and Earth that grows their food. The same ground and Earth that their ancestors learned to draw the raw materials from to make the technology. The same ground and Earth that their concrete, glass, and steel living units are anchored upon.”

And then he would ask the question, “How many times have you felt the ground under your feet today?” And so the story would become a little bit clearer in the sense that he was not talking about some distant far-off future. He was really talking about the here and now.

How many times have we all gone through an entire day, never even once touching the Earth upon which we live. And does that make any difference in the way we feel? The decisions we make? The way we live our lives?

These are not questions that have easy answers. But part of this fellows answer was to where shoes that he could have the simple and yet profound experience of feeling the ground and the Earth upon which we live.

And it is in those simple and profound experiences that we can re-find our connection to nature. But even more, we the can find the connection between ourselves and our world. To touch the Earth and remember that the Sun does indeed make its way across the sky, that the wind is indeed rustling the in trees, and that the bees are indeed busily making their way from one bright and colorful flower to the next.

For art, nature, & living,
~ Obadiah Green

Ignore them.

That’s Hugh McLeod’s advice, anyway.

These days, most everyone agrees that Hugh’s idea of creating cartoons on the backs of business cards was a spark of sheer genius. But, Hugh says:

"When I first started with the biz card format, people thought I was nuts. Why wasn’t I trying to do something more easy for markets to digest i.e. cutey-pie greeting cards or whatever?"

Always remember that, as the artist, you’re the creative one. You’re the visionary. You’re the one who must learn to "trust your gut". Most other people can’t possibly "get" your creative ideas before you’ve proven them to work. As Hugh says, "The more original your idea is, the less good advice other people will be able to give you."

All this sage wisdom from Hugh is being compiled for his upcoming book that will be based upon his popular manifesto, How to be Creative. If you’re feeling discouraged about your art career, a particular new work, or any creative endeavor, think about what Hugh writes in the notes for his first chapter:

"It’s more like, the better the idea, the more ‘out there’ it initially will seem to other people, even people you like and respect. So there’ll be a time in the beginning when you have to press on, alone, without one tenth the support you probably need… GOOD IDEAS ALTER THE POWER BALANCE IN RELATIONSHIPS, THAT IS WHY GOOD IDEAS ARE ALWAYS INITIALLY RESISTED."

You can read more from Hugh regarding creativity and resistance from others in his blog post:
Good Ideas Have Lonely Childhoods.

Sincerely,
Clint Watson
Software Craftsman and Art Fanatic

 
PS:
"All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident." ~ Arthur Schopenhauer

This article originally appeared at the following URL:
www.clintwatson.net/blog/5386

Cascadas de los Niños
© Lawrence Duncan

In every creative profession, including the visual arts, there’s a moment when there is hope for the artist to begin the journey from good to great. Ironically, that moment of hope happens at the instant the artist realizes that how "bad" he really is.

Let us illustrate… when your editor was younger, he fancied himself a fantastic programmer:  "There’s no challenge too great for me," he thought, "anything you can conceive, I can make a computer do it."

More recently, however, we’ve been opening up our mind… reading books, reviewing source code written by other (better) programmers. And, most horrifying of all: reviewing code that we, ourself, wrote some years back.

And, dear artist, the honest, unabashed truth is that… compared to the greats… we just aren’t there. Have you ever looked at another artist’s work and had that feeling? Or worse? Or, perhaps you’ve walked into a gallery and left vowing to throw your paint brushes away because you have so far to go compared to the works you’ve just admired?

Congratulations, dear artist, the moment you have that uncomfortable experience, and not a moment before, is the moment you can take the first steps toward true greatness. Here’s how one of the greats in our industry, programmer, Jeff Atwood, puts it on his blog Coding Horror:

"[Every time I saw the Coding Horror illustration], I would chuckle. Not because of other people’s code, mind you. Because of my own code. That was the revelation. You’re an amateur developer until you realize that everything you write sucks.
YOU are the Coding Horror."

It’s the same with art - you’re an amateur artist until you realize that everything you paint… let’s say… isn’t great.

It’s a bit of a paradox, isn’t it? Most amateur artists we know tend to be over-confident in their artwork, while the greatest artists that we have ever met, can’t even see the true greatness of their own artwork… they tend to focus on how much they still want to learn, and how much they still want to improve. Back when we owned an art gallery, people would come in declaring themselves to be "artists"… having been painting for perhaps 6 months or so.

The would walk past paintings by true masters in our gallery… people like Kevin Macpherson, David Leffel, Mian Situ and Laura Robb, and confidently announce that they were ready to exhibit their artworks in our gallery. They weren’t even close. They literally could not even see the difference between their amateur artwork and the works of artists who had spent a lifetime devoted to getting better day in and day out.

Occasionally, however, an artist would spend some time viewing the art and then announce to us that she just would never measure up and might as well throw her brushes away. Those were the artists that excited us, because there was now hope. We would ask her to show us her artwork and to stay in touch.

So, dear artist, when you’re feeling down, feeling like you’ll never be great, rejoice! You’ve reached the moment of hope.

Sincerely,
Clint Watson
Software Craftsman and Art Fanatic

 
PS:
It may seem a bit of a downer, that the better you get, the more you realize that you’re not great. However, it’s not. Creative pursuits require a lifetime journey of commitment and growth. It’s a journey, not a destination….so while you may never be satisfied that you have “arrived”, you’ll get a bit closer every day, and the true greats all enjoy the ride… and what a beautiful ride it is… won’t you join us for the journey?

For more information on the similarities of programmers (hackers) and artists (painters) and other tortured souls, consider reading: Hackers and Painters by Paul Graham

This article originally appeared at the following URL:
www.clintwatson.net/blog/2713

This is uncategorized.