A Meditation on Artist's Process


I’ve always admired well-manicured artists, especially the ones that create effortlessly or at least seemingly so. Their cool confidence seems to exude from their pores and I sit in complete awe of their dominance over beauty, balance, and bareness. Souls exposed in such a carefree yet careful way. Brings to mind the rawness of life in glossy magazines. An interesting juxtaposition that I’ve never mastered and perhaps, never will. I wonder if they sometimes wish they were more like other artists, like me, who leave scuff marks, bruises, and wounds - fresh and unfiltered. Throw mistakes to the forefront willingly and incompletely. Pixilated photos shine in our eyes and matte is more preferred. Discarded scraps are gold to us. I wonder if they wish that they didn’t care so much about the end result like how I wish I was able to present my art more finished, finalized, polished. Either way, it’s fascinating how drastically different an artist process can be and yet we play in the same color scheme, same musical keys, same sceneries, same frequencies.