Every year Imago (our church) has an "Arts Retreat". It's a weekend at a little conference center with silly excuses for beds, beautiful views and the most amazing food ever. No lie. The first meal I ate there included beets. Beets. And I tried to ask for seconds. After eating beets. Well, I wanted to ask for seconds, but that's obviously not proper behavior at a fancy restaurant that can make things like beets delicious.
That was a couple years ago. I went hoping it would bring me some clarity on this weird concept of the artistic life that I was becoming interested in. I really liked doing arty things, but it felt a little selfish to me. A little like I was spending my time frivoslously - shouldn't I be doing some laundry or making dinner or having a menaingful discussion with one of the kidlets or buying someone some new socks with that money I just spent on paintbrushes?
I don't mean to come off like all my thoughts were pure and others motivated. I've spent plenty of money on things I, and only I wanted. Have you seen my fabric stash? But for the first time I was thinking about creating a job, a career from one of these artistic pursuits. And that required spending real money. More than my weekly allowance combined with Joann's coupons could provide. And so I started wondering if this whole Art thing was really valid. So I signed up for the retreat.
I was not disappointed. Every one of the artist's giving their lectures, or sharing their work and thoughts addressed my concerns and brought me clarity and purpose. It was, truly, amazing.
Last year I didn't even think about going cause I had a three month old infant. This year I picked up the information about it from the church lobby and realized that we had homework assigned before the reatreat. We were to address the questions of the artist's role in the church and the community through our medium.
Uggh. I hate homework. I'd love to see what everyone else comes up with. I'd love to hear what they think, but I don't want to have to come up with something. On my own?!? Ugh.
For various other noble reasons I decided this was not a good year for me to go.
And then, yesterday while reading The War of Art (Steven Pressfield) I came upon this:
Are you a born writer? Were you put on earth to be a painter, a scientist, an apostle of peace? In the end the question can only be answered by action.
Do it or don't do it.
It may help to think of it this way. If you were meant to cure cancer or write a symphony or crack cold fusion and you don't do it, you not only hurt yourself, even destroy yourself. You hurt your children. You hurt me. You hurt the planet.
You shame the angels who watch over you and you spite the Almighty, who created you and only you with your unique gifts, for the sole purpose of nudging the human race one millimeter farther along its path back to God.
Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It's a gift to the world and every being in it. Don't cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you've got.
I read that and I thought "Ah! There it is. That's it." I'm still not going on the retreat this year (seriously, I have good and noble reasons) but if I were I'd start working out of this quote. I have no idea what I'd do, but whatever it was, these words would be cycling through my brain, on repeat until there was something to show that had become right.
