So much of the art that exists in this world was inspired by pain. I think of movies like We Bought A Zoo with Matt Damon or Charlie St. Cloud with Zach Effron. And what would the world be without all our iconic heartbreak songs? “Iris” from the Googoo Dolls, “Spacebound” with Eminem, and even the shitty ones from Olivia Rodrigo. Some people even use art to process physical pain. Frida Kahlo is a famous painter who was seriously injured in a trolly accident as a teenager (I read that she was impaled by something. Shiver me timbers). She is famous for her art that depicted physical pain in a visual way. As a writer, when I want to express physical pain, I write “ow.”
Processing pain is important to everyone’s mental health. And as artists, we have the opportunity to do some of that processing in a unique way, using our talents and gifts to find a better state of being. And in some cases, the art that comes from that process will help other people in their own journeys with pain. This is one of the most beautiful aspects of the artist’s calling.
When I was younger and just a wee lad, I held an opinion very strongly. I believed that processing pain through art was great, but that the artist should be careful to not just be “throwing up.” I held that the artist was responsible to clearly mark the path out of pain, into hope and purpose. I’m not exactly sure how young Greg came to think that. I guess it was just something I was told by someone else? It’s amazing how many beliefs one can hold that are based solely on a passing remark from another individual. I now think that I was an idiot (being 23, I feel like every year I look back at myself from a year prior and have the same thought every time).
We have to remember, our heart isn’t like a single room, so much as it is a hotel building. There are a lot of rooms in our heart; each one a different facet or compartment of our soul. Some rooms represent our heart’s positioning towards specific relationships, hobbies, or even things that we think about subconsciously. Art is an opportunity to focus everything on just one room, without pressure to move on to a “bigger picture”, Sometimes art does deal with the bigger picture, and that is a good thing. Don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m just saying that it is okay for art to be very tunnel vision.
With this in mind, I not only disagree with the opinion that young Greg had (young Greg was like 2 years ago haha), but I kinda believe the opposite now. If anything, artists may have a responsibility to the world to put out honest work about processing pain that does NOT include a happy ending. I have a firm belief that in the long run, all things work together for good. But have you ever had something really sad happen in life, and when you finally open up to someone, they say “sorry” and all the right things, but then they start telling you how to feel better? It is the worst, and makes you not want to talk about it anymore. Why? There is a time and place for everything under the sun. There is a time and place for sadness and grief. We need art for those moments. We need art for those moments in time where the sun doesn’t shine for us. Not everyone is gifted at art. Not just anyone can write poetry, or make music, or paint well. But as artists, we can combine talent, skill, and practice to make something that touches others deeper than words alone.
Although we can create things that help people through pain, the only way for that art to reach its full potential is if it is made for the artist, first. When going through a hard time, I’m not writing what I think the audience wants to hear. I’m writing what I need to hear. Sometimes the pen is a knife and the ink is my blood. I’m not wasting that lifeblood on something likable or palatable. I’m trying to know myself better, and hopefully process things in a way that allows me to migrate into a stronger state of mind. Don’t get me wrong, if processing pain results in me publishing art that gets me rich, I’m so down. (I’d rather be rich and miserable than poor and miserable). But more than anything, I would rather be honest with myself than shallow with others.
There are probably some things that I have written out of pain that I wouldn’t want to put on display for the world, but that’s not because it would be wrong to do that to the world, but because it would be wrong to do that to me. There are just some things that are too intensely personal. Besides, art is for the artist first, so whether or not I share something does not determine its value. I often use art as a way to dive into the darkest and most painful thoughts and emotions within me. And I no longer make sure to put a positive or hopeful spin on everything, because one page does not define me. I can write a desperate poem about pain, regret, self-condemnation, hatred, and rage without ever getting to the part where everything gets better, or the part where I finally obtain a more reasonable mindset. In my own life in the real world, I need to try to balance myself and not live under the heavy boot of pain. But on a page I can focus in on all of that painful mess and single out emotions and thoughts and dive into them. In doing so I will understand myself better.
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