What If We Viewed Our Second Half of Life As a Blank Canvas?

Art is alchemy.

The artist seizes the vision in their mind, a gift bestowed by the Muse, and alchemizes it into something tangible.

Whether it be held, read, viewed, or heard, whatever’s within, must come out.

Here’s something the audience may never know, and how could we when we stand in awe before Rothko’s “Four Darks In Red” or Monet’s “Water Lillies”?

The result we consume is not the vision the artist held in their mind.

It’s what the artist has decided they’re comfortable sharing.

Of all the artist’s struggles, perhaps the most challenging is this:

Navigating the fear of knowing what they’re sharing isn’t the same as what’s in their mind.

It’s close and yet miles apart.

There’s always a little more; there’s always another layer.

Some remain frozen in the fear and enchantment of perfection, never releasing their vision to the world.

And they suffer in the liminal space that fear and the myth of perfection create.

Others are willing to transcend their fear in pursuit of mastery and the sublime.