
Nightbloom— At West End Gallery
All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own.
–Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther, 1774
One of the primary factors in my finding my way to art was the fact that whatever I created would be all my own, a reflection of what I felt was my own truth. Art–painting in my particular case– was the one place in this world where I could have total control, the one place where I could set the rules and chose what criteria would satisfy my own needs.
I would be using materials and knowledge available to everyone else, just like the knowledge referenced in Goethe’s quote above. But what made art so appealing was that there was the opportunity to take these materials and knowledge and transform them into something quite different than the person sitting next to you equipped with the same materials and knowledge. The difference between the two coming in one’s experiences and emotional perceptions and responses to the world.
For some, it is an academic exercise that uses the materials and knowledge by the book with little of their own self invested. For others, it is a battleground in an existential struggle to be heard, to have their voice have meaning of some kind.
The real difference between these two comes from how much one is willing to totally reveal their self in this work, how they interpret the materials and knowledge they are given, and how much of their heart and soul they are willing to put on display. For me, having my own heart evident in my art was always an existential effort– if I couldn’t make something that was uniquely my own then I would not be pursuing it for long.
You know, this is a pretty simple quote on the surface, but it is one that makes me struggle in discussing my own relationship to it. As has been said here before, simple things are often not so simple.
Busy this morning so I am sharing this post from 2015.
I swear the first time I read this, it included a reference to AI. Obviously, AI wasn’t around in 2015, and when I went back to find the reference, it’s not there. That said, what you wrote is a wonderful argument against using AI in the arts. The products of AI generation may be pleasing or interesting, but the human element is missing. A human may do the programming, but that ‘little something extra’ isn’t there.