The Art of Being a Pain

I started doing The Artist’s Way again the other day. It is a book on reclaiming your own creativity, a 12-week course with readings and activities. Millions of people have bought the book. It’s very helpful in getting back to creativity you might have shelved due to fear, criticism, busyness – all of the reasons we give ourselves.

My spiritual center offer The Artist’s Way as a course every winter. I chose not to take the course, but, inspired by friends who are taking it, I dusted off my book and started reading it and doing the exercises on my own.

One of the exercises is a weekly artist date, where you take your solo self out to get inspired in some way – by art, music, nature, architecture, antiques…anything to get your brain warmed up. For my first week date, I chose the local art museum, Tacoma Art Museum, for the simple reason that the library had free passes available (bless libraries).

In addition to several floors of paintings, photography and sculpture, TAM also has a floor of art glass. Tacoma is the home of Dale Chihuly and many glass studios, including an incredible glass program for high schoolers that I support by volunteering at their events. The glass exhibit is my favorite part of the museum.

One of the permanent displays is a piece by Anna Skibska, a Polish artist. It’s a large, very fragile random net two pieces made of fine strands of glass, a few feet wide, maybe 3 inches deep, hung suspended. It shimmers, almost invisible, then visible in the light. It’s an incredible, beautiful work.

It’s also, I realized, as I stood there, an incredible pain in the ass. So fragile, so ungainly, practically impossible to move or transport without breakage. It took an artist of some fortitude to create the work and insist on its launching into the world in all of its difficulty. “This is my work and it is worth the trouble,” it says.

I was struck by all the times I believed I was being too difficult, asking too much, feeling pushy – or cutting myself off before I dared to do any of those things.

“Oh, it’s ok,” I have said, over and over. How many times have we said that about our work? Oh, it’s ok. I guess nobody would want to see it/read it/understand it anyway. I don’t want to put anyone out. I don’t want to trouble anyone. I can see the difficulty in my work. It’s not normal. It’s not regular. It’s not something that is going to appeal to many people.

On and on.

And yet, behold Anna Skibska’s work “Two Sunbeams,” hanging there beaming all over the place, being glorious. Being a huge pain in the rear. Both of those existing at the same time. Imagine that. Imagine being that bold and brave.

The work is worth the effort. Believe it.