My children’s grandmother is an artist. I mean, an actual artist, as in, makes a living selling her paintings. Naturally when my children were young, I imagined they would be protégés or born with her innate talent to create. As early as it seemed appropriate, we had crayons and colored, I engineered art projects for nearly every birthday party, I wanted to spark the bug within them to create.
Hanging in my guest bathroom for many years was a painting by my older son, Carson. It was precious and, although it no longer graces my walls, I have it, as I always will, because I am a mother. He recently painted an “installation” for his apartment that I love, and it delights me that the creative bug lives on. Is my younger son creative? Yes? It’s demonstrated through his passion for plants, their growth, structure and patterns. I will go with that as his creative streak.
But if I compared them to their grandmother…are they artists?
What is creative?
One of the challenges internally with creativity is its subjective nature. Not black and white, subject to the eye of the beholder. What makes it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is up for debate. While the kids’ grandmother is an artist, is it possible that’s a construct? She paints (beautifully), it appeals to an audience, it’s recognizable, and people want to pay money for it, therefore, we call her an artist.
But what about me? Earlier today, I decided to create a picture for a blank wall in my powder bath and with inspiration from Henri Matisse, a flower-esque canvas was born. Does that make me an artist? I write this blog every week in addition to innumerable other posts and documents, does that make me a writer?
Why comparison enters the picture
Because we desire to add definition to our activities, we compare to others. I may look at artists and evaluate my creation compared to theirs. Is it as good? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Am I an artist? The same comparison exists for writing, or any other creative endeavor.
And the unfortunate result is that we subconsciously stifle ourselves. Because we determine that whatever it is that we’re doing is ‘less than’ what someone else has created. Why do we have this insatiable desire to put a label on it at all? When we do, we’re missing the point. Creativity is subjective. It’s not up to you to determine if I am an artist, or a writer, that’s up to me. Determining if you’re an artist is up to you and you alone.
Which is easier said than done.
Wholehearted living lets go of comparison
Truthfully, I’d like to say I don’t compare myself to anyone. That I believe I’m an artist and a writer. That would be a lie. In real life, I hesitate to use those labels. I compare my ‘art,’ my ideas, my vision (because creativity is far more than visual arts) to others to determine the good/bad factor. The Wholehearted Living Guidepost capturing my attention this month is choosing creativity over comparison.
Comparison needs to stop. Do you know one of the reasons I’ve continued to exercise my creativity? Because it brings me joy. I love writing. I love painting, or creating, or dreaming up creative solutions, or schemes or ideas. When we compare, we look at another person’s exterior, at their finished product, and think we’re seeing the entire picture.
We only have the full picture of ourselves
We’re not seeing the whole picture. Each person projects the part of themselves they want others to see. Including us. We show the world around us what we want them to see. Maybe it’s only the best pieces of art, or pictures, or selfies, or writing, or we filter our ideas, our suggestions, our creativity. We run it through our internal comparison meter first to determine if it’s good enough for others to see.
That’s what they’re doing to. Wholehearted living requires us to stop comparison. Let the creativity flow. Encourage it in yourself and others. Know that we may be on this journey together, and our paths may be crossing, but our footsteps are not the same. We need every single one. Together, we complete the picture. You’re creative, you’re an artist, you’re brave, my friend. Sending you love. Lisa