My Duty As An Artist

As an artist I feel certain expectations have been unfairly bestowed upon me. These expectations come off the back of pre-conceived notions society has of what an artist is and what an artist should be able to do.

The skill level of an artist can dictate an ability to complete even the most mundane of tasks with some degree of creativity. I speak for myself in this, although I fear there are numerous other artists all over the world who feel the very same pull.

As an artist it is expected that one be particularly handy with a paint brush. I am making no allegations as to my inability to work the brush but sometimes undue pressure is placed on oneself to be a master at anything that requires a brush.

For example: painting bedroom walls, I would hardly liken this to the art of painting a canvas. This kind of painting requires a different kind of skill that this blogger is sometimes lacking. A steady but fast hand, quick out of the gates, even strokes with an even amount of pressure. No crazy spontaneous bursts of creativity seen here. One may argue that painting uses these very skills, but that is not the kind of painting I would like to associate myself with.

Another example is the ‘art’ of covering a pizza base with tomato paste. If I were an Abstract Expressionist I would drip the paste sporadically over the ‘canvas’ in a spontaneous but planned manner. If I belonged to the Minimalist movement I may decide that a piece of pineapple and a shred of ham were just right. If anyone asked where the rest of the toppings were, “Less is more” I would say with an air of arrogance. How dare they question my eye for a good painting! If I were a Pop artist I’d say screw the circle and cut my base into a square. Using food dye I’d divide the base into four coloured squares of tomato paste. Sadly I am none of these, but I am an artist with an eye for perfection. Picking up a brush of any kind gives me a great sense of freedom. Every inch of the pizza base requires my utmost devotion. For it is the base of a painting that dictates whether or not it will be a success. Or so I heard from some freedom of expression killing horses I happen to come across weekly. “I’m sorry” I would say, I’m simply not in the mood to be told what to do today. And on they would trot.

My last example of brush artistry comes to the toothbrush, such a simple object, that is at times underrated. As an artist one would expect that I admire the fine bristles that gently scrub against my canvas, but I don’t. In fact, the art of teeth brushing is totally lost on me. Not to say I don’t do it, but it is simply a chore. One that must be completed daily in order to continue living. Much like breathing.

To conclude I would like to admit that I may have strayed terribly off course from my original idea. Forgive me, just once more I plead. It has become obvious to me that as an artist the world has certain expectations that I really must live up to. So tonight when I go to brush my teeth I’m going to whip out the paint and go nuts! I hear bleeding gums is quite the look at the moment. “Oh my her gums are bleeding, how very avant-garde of her”, that’s what the horses will say. And I will laugh, red paint, spilling all over the white carpet. And on I’ll swim.