Whenever I’m on a plane it’s hard for me to avoid thinking about all philosophers, artists, writers, and eager romantics of the past that would have relished the opportunity to see the world from that unique vantage point.  We take it lightly now in modern life but for centuries people stared up at the sky like a forbidden frontier, something you would want to graze just for a second to gain a better understanding of the mysteries of existence.  Now we can walk inside of a metal cylinder with wings and propel ourselves at astounding speed while we watch the world careen below our feet.

When you stop and recognize how peculiar the mental and physical space of an airplane is you begin to fully appreciate how much of an opportunity it is to gain clarity of perspective.  All the entanglements of roads and rivers unfold like lines on the palm of a hand ready for reading.  The interwoven cultural tapestries of cities and suburbs are laid flat for your viewing like a wrinkly rug. The dynamic forces of energy that are both natural and man-made all recede and expand before one’s eyes.  You feel both very small and enormous, one singular little scrunched up skeleton that suddenly is mingling with the same clouds that the Greek God Apollo calls home.

William Blake, Jerusalem, 1804-1820

Now before I go any further, I should confess I’m absolutely terrified of flying.  I’m a nervous wreck the entire flight. I’m not convinced something so heavy wants to stay up in the air and I’m elated when I feel the wheels hit the ground. However, I can appreciate on a self-help level how it forces me to look at things with a broader lens and I can’t help using it as a chance to review the composition of my life.  I suppose as the plane rises up it’s somehow easier for me to realize that all the worries and concerns that weigh me down should also just be lifted off my shoulders. Credit card bills seem silly when you’re defying gravity. All the clutter of daily decisions stays down on the planet and the wandering inner thoughts can finally push to the forefront of your mind.

View from the plane window on the way back from Miami, Johannes VanDerBeek

I’m probably over emphasizing the revelatory marvels of air travel because I recently took a trip to Miami that was a particularly potent opportunity for reflection.  Especially in relation to how my life as an artist has developed over the years. I was invited to teach a master Art class to a group of exceptional high school students as part of an event called Young Arts Weeks.  It takes place every year and the students who are invited come from all over the country.  They all had to submit portfolios of their work to be reviewed by a group of judges and out of thousands of applicants only twenty-six young artists are invited to spend the week in Miami. In the year 2000 I was one of those students invited to come down to Miami and I can remember how anxious I was about the future that lay ahead. So when I was asked to come back after 17 years to talk to them about my work and my experiences as a working artists it was difficult not to think back on my younger self and take stock of the steps that transpired.

When I arrived in Miami in the year 2018 and went to the first dinner in the hotel ballroom I started to speak to some of the judges who were all around my age or older. We are all working artists and when we have the chance to take comfort in being around like minded individuals we tend to discuss how challenging it is to maintain an art practice while trying to support a family or simply cover expenses.  That’s the big difference between being 17 or 18 and having an open road state of mind versus your late thirties when you are starting to feel the mileage.  When I was younger and imagined being an artist I never would have thought a big part of isn’t just about talent but also perseverance and steadfastness. You have to give your art practice a stable atmosphere in order for it to grow. It needs the oxygen of attention and focus and above all in needs a lot of time. The more consistent and uninterrupted time you can give to your work the more you will see it progress. But keeping control of time gets incredibly difficult when you throw the responsibilities of adulthood into the mix.

In my case I put two wonderful kids into the equation and while it has made it harder to get to my studio they have also directly shaped the imagery of my work in wonderful ways. They helped me realize that as the complexion of your life forms your Art will follow along. It Changes shape to match the levels of joy and anxiety you have going on around you. An art practice when its healthy feels like this fluid exchange between a deep inner dialogue that is constantly expanding and moving to encompass the way you want to see the world.   

Parenthood, Johannes VanDerBeek

When you are a younger artist you tend to feel like you have something to prove to the world.  Like a ravenous animal you consume styles and techniques to get better.  For example, if you look at Early Picasso paintings you see him move through different approaches at a dizzying pace.  It’s a necessary part of the process because you are effectively forming your creative identity through trial and error.  As you get older you settle down a little bit and a natural process of elimination has taken hold. You start to know the things you are interested in and can recognize consistent threads running through your ideas.  In my experience it feels like as you get older you stop trying to prove things to other people because trying to prove something to yourself is more than enough.

Speaking to these young burgeoning artists made me realize how there are different phases to becoming an artist. Obviously the start and stop of these phases isn’t the same for everyone and you never really know when you are in the midst of a certain phase or entering a new one. But it feels like you can’t ever skip steps or cheat your way out of the hard work it takes to get better at something. The first step is probably the most important.  You must decide you want to make Art. I believe that choice can happen at any age. You can be two years old or seventy and realize its thrilling to make something out of nothing that is all your own. 

Getting to spend some time with such eager and wide eyed young adults reminded to me that one of the bigger challenges to being an artist is not getting synical about all the challenges.  I could see how excited they were to be around each other and to share ideas and interests. Its one aspect of being an artist that ideally never changes no matter how old you are. If you can stay excited about what you are working on then your art practice can be like an airplane.  It can provide unique vantage points and endlessly lift your feet off the ground.