Detail of “Crucify II” by Nela Dunato, acrylic on canvas
This is sort of a follow-up to my article “Why are my artworks so dark and morbid?” so you might want to read that one if you haven’t already, because I want to build on that.
The original post sparked a lot of discussion, and there were some remarks and questions (either in the comments, or in private communication) that I wanted to respond to in more detail than I managed in the comments. A lot of things remained unsaid in the original post because it was getting too long as it is, and this one is a lengthy beast as well.
In the previous article I did my best to explain why I feel inspired to create dark art, and I stated that creating such art is a very healing process so I consider it entirely positive, and I don’t feel ashamed about sharing such art at all. I don’t have a problem with people considering me weird, and I don’t stress about the fact that most people won’t ever be fans of my work because it just doesn’t suit their taste.
But some people were concerned with the sharing aspect, suggesting that perhaps these personal explorations of mine were not meant to be public. Some people had issues sharing their work because they’re not sure if it should be public.
These issues are something I’ve thought about thoroughly (as I tend to over-think everything in my life), so I know what my stance on this is. Perhaps it will change over the years, and I’m not denying the possibility of further development — in fact it’s my mission to keep growing, and never stay stuck in a certain mentality. But right now it is what it is, and feel free to make of it what you will.
There was a time when I was concerned about what my art represents, and what it does to the viewers. I was concerned that I was spreading negativity through my art, that I was airing my dirty laundry, and that maybe it wasn’t a smart decision. My family’s concerns about them possibly looking bad in public cast doubt on my work as well. There was a phase when I really wasn’t sure whether I should publish such art at all.
After I examined this subject from all sides, I decided it’s OK for me to publish my art, and that I will continue to do it as long as I feel the need to.
I know that some people don’t agree with me on this subject, because they think all art should be uplifting, and that it should appeal to as many people as possible. But my opinion is different, and since this is my blog, I’m going to share my reasoning behind it.
I believe that we all create art for ourselves — whether that’s painting, writing or music, or any other form of art. I believe we only ever create “fine art” from our own depth of experience.
When commercial forms of art are concerned, such as illustration, design or music scores for films, then you do your best to work with the audience in mind, and everything you do is evaluated based on how well it connects with the people that you intended it for.
This post is not concerned with commercial art, since rules for commercial art are entirely different from rules for fine art.
To be more precise, certain rules for commercial art exist, whereas “fine art” is better off without any rules so that the artists can have free reign with their expression. (I wrote more on this topic here: How to be an artist in a world of commerce.)
As a self-taught artist and a freelance designer, I’ve been on both sides of the fence, so believe me that nothing I say is meant to demean commercial artists. Commercial art isn’t worth less than fine art. I’m using the terms “commercial art” and “fine art” to differentiate between art created for a specific purpose, and art that is pure self-expression.
Art that is used commercially is not necessarily excluded from being fine art at the same time. Someone can hire an artist to do whatever they want, or they can purchase an existing work of art to be used in their project if the theme fits.
The rest of my post is about fine art, and only fine art. Let’s all leave our commercial applications, compromise, and ideal clients at the door and focus on our own inner world for a while.
I think you only ever create art for yourself, and then your art finds a way to reach people who are going to resonate with it.
If a lot of people resonate with it, what you do is clearly very interesting to a lot of different people. But some of us have more of a “niche”, and what we do is only interesting to a handful of people. We can’t say that the taste of this group of people is not as refined, or that this type of work is not as good as those that appeal to a more mainstream audience.
Appeal of various artworks depends on a lot of conditions. Different styles were more popular at different times in history, and you can’t predict whether something is going to be popular in the future, and in the end it really doesn’t matter if something becomes popular or not. There are a lot of amazing artists that were never famous—some just don’t win the popularity lottery.
It’s never the aim of fine art to appeal to as many people as possible. We can’t use the fact that a lot of people like or dislike something as a measure of whether something is “good art”.
I’m not an art major, in fact I have never studied art in a school setting. I don’t have any fancy credentials to my name. But I have studied art, philosophy, psychology, and spirituality in practice throughout my life. While my life hasn’t been that long (28 years at the time of writing this), I do think I learned a great deal. I’m not saying my learning is complete—I look forward to decades of learning about the human nature, the nature of consciousness, and other mysteries of the universe.
My search for truth has brought me to face different “rules” and presumptions that I found constricting and limiting. I had to examine those limitations (set up by previous generations) and break through them so that I can live a better life. In this process, I came up with new explanations and beliefs, ones that I can accept as my own and that make me feel expansive.
First of all, I believe that anyone is free to express their truth.
More so, I think it’s everyone’s duty to express their own truth in way that’s most natural to them, and not just repeat the truths they learned from other people.
(I wrote on this more in my mission statement This is the main reason behind everything I do.)
The process of this kind of expression is an artistic process, regardless of the quality of the result. The only criteria by which we can judge whether something is fine art or not is whether this piece of art is an authentic expression and came from the depths of the artist’s being. Other people’s responses toward these works of art are not a way to judge the value of such art.
Regardless of whether your art is uplifting, beautiful, magical, scary, grotesque, poignant, or simply ugly, it’s perfectly fine to create art that you feel called to create and share it with the world.
I’m not saying you should expect praise for it, or that you’re entitled to a lot of fans, because that is beyond your control.
The only thing you can do is show up for your art and share it. Whether you get a large audience or not is something that will happen organically, and don’t be discouraged if you don’t get a large following right away. That is where your responsibility stops. The size of your following is not a measure of your art’s worth.
Whatever you do with your art, you’ll never satisfy everyone. I don’t think there is a single piece of art ever created that everyone loves.
So what can we do then as artists? Create art we enjoy creating and hope that it will find a way to people who will love it. And there will be people who love it.
My personal experience shows that art is not only beneficial for the artist, art is also beneficial to the viewer. But not all art moves all people equally, because our inner worlds differ very much and depending on what’s inside those inner worlds, we either respond well to art, or we don’t.
Artists will attract like-minded people whose content of their inner world is similar to the content of the artist’s inner world.
For example, people who resonate with my art usually shared similar experiences in their life, such as social rejection, bullying, emotional abuse, and faced similar issues like low self-esteem, depression, negative body image, feeling disconnected from other people, etc. These are often the underlying themes in my art, and so my art speaks to these people because in a way we share the same language—the language other people don’t understand.
You might wonder, what benefit can those people have from being reminded of this negativity in their life? Why would anyone enjoy viewing art that reminds them of these feelings and experiences? That’s a valid question. Here’s what I’ve found:
A lot of our emotional problems stem from the fact that we feel isolated from others, and we feel like no one will ever understand us.
The only reason why psychologists have so much work with “normal” people is that these perfectly “normal” people think their problems are abnormal, and they’re too ashamed to talk about it with their friends and family so they have to pay a total stranger to listen to them. These people need someone who will witness their honesty and emotional rawness in a way that their loved ones aren’t willing to.
We’re raised to hide our challenging aspects, because whenever we shared them, there were some kind of negative consequences. We’re forced to censor ourselves in order not to disturb the rest of the human tribe and stay safe and loved.
When we don’t feel like we can truly be ourselves in our totality, good and bad, encountering any kind of art that reflects our suppressed feelings feels like release.
We see ourselves reflected back in that piece of art, and we feel validated. That piece of art has created a bridge between the inner world of the artist and the inner world of the viewer, and for a moment they were joined like long lost friends.
I’ve felt this connection many times through music, literature, and various forms of visual art. I’ve never met the creators of these pieces, but the connection felt so true because they poured their being into their art.
The piece of art in question won’t affect people who don’t already possess these qualities inside of themselves. People who do possess these qualities won’t be worse off—in fact, they will likely be better off because these subconscious processes will be invited toward the surface, and the person will have a chance to address them. (That’s what the term “trigger” means, and sometimes triggering experiences can be extremely uncomfortable for people with PTSD. That’s why content warnings are helpful when we deal with very sensitive subjects, such as violence.)
If the person doesn’t do anything about it, the content will just retreat back into the depths of consciousness and remain a part of our dreams, only jumping back up when provoked.
Emotional art has the potential to heal not only the artist, but the viewer as well, if they allow it.
I know this because of all the messages people from all around the world have sent me, and it’s probably the one thing that has kept me going even during the moments when I considered giving up art. When complete strangers write to me how my art has touched them, and that they feel so grateful to have found it, I know that I cannot allow myself to keep my art hidden.
But back to my initial point: these people weren’t the reason why I created that art. I see it as a wonderful side-effect, but I didn’t think of them at all as I was creating it, and I had no idea it would lead to this.
My only responsibility is to myself. This may sound selfish on the surface, but when you really think about it, it’s not.
When we think we do things for other people, we make assumptions about what they might like. We collapse their entire being into a mental model that is supposed to give us an idea of what they would want to see. But mental models aren’t real people, and we don’t truly know anyone. By assuming we know other people, we’re insulting them. Doing what we think is best for other people, when in fact we have no idea what they really need, is not generous—it’s arrogant.
Why bother making projections and trying to fit yourself into a vision of what we think other people would want, when it’s easier to just be yourself?
Being able to express yourself authentically is a gift that sadly many people don’t use in their life. But when you hear the calling to express yourself, not only is it beneficial for you to do so, it’s necessary. Stifling your expression becomes difficult and at times even painful, and the only way to effectively get rid of this discomfort is to let it flow out into a work of art.
Some people decide they don’t want to do that, and instead they numb these feelings with substances. There was a time in my life when I was acting in such a way as well. But when I finally accepted my self-expression as a gift and not the little devil on my shoulder that’s constantly nagging me and making my life difficult, all need for self-medication went away.
Accepting this gift is accepting yourself in totality. It’s not always pleasant, and you may find skeletons buried beneath the floorboards, but that’s part of being human. It will only serve your growth.
So, what’s your take on this?
Agree in a way, completely disagree, or think I’m full of crap? Feel free to share whatever your view is!
Who are you creating your artwork for?
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