Recently I’ve had a problem with my art. It’s the problem of anonymity. How can I make something that is clearly about another person without being so obvious? Is it creepy that half my art is centered on other people –lovers, friends, my fear of pregnant women? Do I want people to know these truths? I do want to keep making art.
I guess we as artists take a risk when creating work. It is a form of vulnerability. Others are actually going to see how I feel about something. They might see that I am not over it or that I like something more then I let on. We divulge our secrets in our work. This deep personal self comes out on the canvas, or paper, or sculpture, or whatever and there is no way to prevent it. Unless you lie, but then what’s the point.
The other day I was talking to a friend about her work. She said it is about connecting, connecting with a broader audience. Sharing with them a part of yourself. But what if they don’t get it? What if you are a freak for thinking and seeing the way you do? Or worse, what happens when someone can read you too well, almost better than you can yourself? All of the sudden a work that I thought was about sunshine and flower picking becomes a deep rumination on war on death.
Anyone who knows me knows I am obsessed with art, and by virtue of passion fear of connection is not stopping me anytime soon. Fear, however is the problem. The one thing that stops so many people from making and experiencing the world. I guess what I am trying to say is, share yourself make art and if people don’t like it, screw them.