Member-only story
On the Artist and Critic
Chinese ink painters see painting as something between speech and silence. What has been produced shows that is no opinion but law. The forms on paper are less real than objects, but more real than its shadows.
If painting is some place between speech and silence, then all art is.
“Intellectual” art is arguments on canvas. It moves the mind and enflames the heart, but does not elevate the spirit. It lectures at us and is at its foundation self-centered as its concerned with pushing an opinion.
The best artists have free and open natures. They walk through life with open palms. With no expectations they desire nothing, for they are more than content with the journey. If an acorn or a petal happens to fall in their hand they are ecstatic, like a child who spots their gifts under a Christmas tree.
For them, this elevation of spirit must be conveyed; they feel driven to share the joy in their heart. But when they open their mouth to speak, they hesitate: every word that rises seems a lie in some way. All are close but not quite; seem not wide enough to cover the impression; or too dry, lacking that vital thrust of Life, that pulse that lives in the impression and drives them to communicate.
So they look elsewhere and pick up a brush or an instrument. Now they feel confident to speak, for here is a…
