Three Lessons for Artists

Reflections on a Summer of Painting and Travel

The sun is setting a little sooner these days, which means it’s time to reflect on the creative work of the summer. I find that if I don’t pause, think about what I learned, and write it all down, the insights slip away from me. So, here are three lessons for artists.

1. Numbers are nice, but growth doesn’t have to be quantifiable to be real.

It’s tempting to hunt down data to demonstrate that you’re doing well, if only to prove it to yourself. More Substack followers, more sales, more money, more likes. But artistic growth isn’t entirely a numbers game. Or rather, the numbers to focus on are not the ones we get notifications about.

Here are some new numbers to focus on instead. How many miles did I travel to satisfy my curiosity? How many pages of my sketchbook did I fill? How many times did I encourage another artist?

Risk, rejection, and failure also matter. How many shows did I apply to (knowing I might not be chosen)? How many paintings did I mess up and have to paint over? How many words have I put down on paper, even though the words always fall short of what I really want to say?

And then there are non-numerical signs of growth. When I was in Red Wing, I went for a walk and saw this sunset. It was late in the evening, and the northern Minnesota light was just right. I didn’t have my paints with me at the moment, but I caught myself rehearsing which pigments I would mix to make the colors. My hours of plein air painting had changed the way I think.

2. Feeling comes first, thinking second.

I could give a million intellectual reasons for why I love a piece of art, but ultimately, if I’m honest, I love it because when I looked at it, I felt something. That’s not to say that art is dumb; art can be smart. But you don’t walk over to a piece and look at it for very long if it doesn’t make you feel anything.

One of my favorite shows this summer was William Kentridge - A Natural History of the Studio at Hauser and Wirth in New York City. I was immediately struck by the scale and the textural richness of the work, since some of his pieces cover entire walls and contain a mix of collaged and mixed media materials. As I continued to look, I was also interested in what he had to say about the self and the creative process. But the hook was the emotional impact of the work.

3. Embracing abundance feeds creativity.

Summer is an inherently abundant time. Lush green leaves, long weekends, hours and hours of sunlight. Gardens bursting with flowers, beaches crowded with bodies, the sound of children shrieking and playing, far away from the confines of school. There’s a delightful sense of excess to the season.

Even the food of summer - ice cream made with Maine blueberries, pies bursting with peaches and plums - is a study in generosity. And while I am a big believer in hard work, I also think that sometimes when a gift arrives on your doorstep, you need to say “Thank you!” You may not have earned it, but it is yours.

It’s very easy to slip into a scarcity mindset, always feeling like something is missing. But when I focus on what is lacking, I can start to tense up and worry. Instead of, “Wow! Four hours to paint!” I think, “Gosh, I have only four hours before I have to be somewhere.” Yes, this is the old line about glasses being half-empty/full, but the cliché has survived because it contains some truth.

This lesson may be especially relevant as I head into what can feel like a time-starved season. Objectively speaking, the days are shorter, and I have more responsibilities. I won’t be lying on the beach as much or setting up my easel for daylong painting sessions. But fall is also a gorgeous time! Crisp air, roasted vegetables, apple cider doughnuts, and a whole new palette of colors to mix up. The gifts of a new season are right around the corner.