Art and Purpose

Maybe the meaning of life is to do the work

If one is pondering the meaning of life, becoming a self-described artist provides an answer of sorts. Or at least that’s part of what occurs to me from reading books of advice for artists, like The War of Art or How to Be an Artist. One benefit of reading “advice to artists” is that I know that I am not alone in my interest in art and an artistic existence – others before me have apparently felt this way, and others who are alive now speak and act as though they feel this way. One can even choose to think of one’s life (either as a whole, or certain parts) as a work of art, which effectively allows anyone to adopt this mode of being an artist.

In this “artist’s perspective,” it seems that life (or to be more precise, one’s artistic life) is a somewhat self-contained but frequently puzzling task: namely, answering one’s inner voice or promptings. In a previous age, we might have referred to this approach as listening to the voice of God and responding appropriately. Of course, this activity is not done in a vacuum. Rather than simply generating something from nothing, an artist needs both some amount of looking inward (self-discovery) and some amount of looking outward (learning about the world: what has been done before, what is known and unknown, how one can best solve the problems with which one is confronted).

In this framing, the meaning of life is to do the work. And it’s a very personal kind of work – not to work at a job for someone else, but to do the work that is uniquely one’s own. Doing the work in turn requires some measure of preparation and analysis. Alternatively, we could say that some of the work is not in the realization, but rather in the research and planning.

A tricky question here has to do with the question of what to trust and believe in terms of inner voice. Is a person with schizophrenia being an artist? And what about a depressed person who can’t get out of bed? Surely their inner voice is telling them either some version of “stay in bed” or “why bother?” As artistic visions, those may have a certain kind of integrity… but they otherwise leave much to be desired.

It’s tempting to get rid of the depressive concern by saying that a true calling produces a kind of resonance or excitement, and that seems like it has a ring of truth to it; and yet how does that work in the presence of mania? One can believe something sincerely, but that belief might be quite mad – a possible point of concern here is the example of Yayoi Kusama, who lives in a mental health facility while she produces her world-famous polka-dot scenes. At a less dramatic level, it’s not hard to have encounters with people who sincerely believe crazy things.

Let’s put those concerns aside for now, and assume for a moment that we are all “supposed to” be artists. How does that change what we do – if it does? Maybe we are nicer to ourselves and others about finding the time and the space for doing the work. Maybe we shift our thinking about where we find fulfillment, and realize that it may not come from our day jobs. Maybe our day jobs can become more pleasant and less fraught as we realize that they do not have to carry all the weight of meaning and purpose in our lives.

One claim in How to be an Artist is that the current widespread problem of opioid abuse is a symptom of people who are unable to pursue their destinies as artists. That’s an intriguing perspective, but it seems like confused or wishful thinking. I don’t want to be a snooty elitist, but it does seem to me like the people who are desperate in small towns are not primarily seeking an opportunity to express themselves. If we think in terms of Maslow’s hierarchy, it would be correct but unhelpful to say that they were falling short of self-actualization. It would be correct, because they are indeed falling short in that “highest level” (as do most people, frankly). However, it would be unhelpful, because they probably have more basic needs of physical and financial security to address first.

It’s not clear that pursuing artistic expression is all upside. I may have a clear vision that I am utterly incompetent to realize. I may be terribly frustrated in my efforts. Maybe this is a part of why so many people stop doing art or have no interest in art – it doesn’t reward them. Or (of course) there is the more prosaic reason that they simply don’t have the spare energy or resources to appreciate art or to do art.

However, it does seem as though most people like to do something that is recognizably artistic in some dimension, if only for themselves – what would happen if more of that was allowed to happen?