This is the true joy in life: the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one, the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap, the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.
-George Bernard Shaw
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Joy was the word that first came to mind when I finished this new piece, a 16″ by 20″ canvas that is part of my show that opens next month at the West End Gallery. There was just a feeling of realized joy and happiness throughout it, the kind that Shaw described above in his play Man and Superman.
I think the feeling he describes must be one of the greatest joy in this world: to find a purpose into which you can fully throw your whole being for all of your time on this planet.
A purpose that gives you a place to stand and rise above the selfishness and pettiness of those, including yourself, who would drag you down.
A purpose that allows you to tap into some greater force in order to gain energy for your toils.
A purpose that lets you deny the cynicism that sometimes shows up in abundance in this world.
A purpose that serves you endless joy in what seem to be empty moments.
A purpose that even finds the joy in tears.
I think there is a purpose for each of us. Finding it is not always a simple matter and some of us will never find the one purpose that is truly our own. We may not be willing to give enough of ourselves to something that is beyond our own needs and desires. We might still find some joy in our life but it will no doubt be short lived.
For me, it has been painting. At first, I found this surprising because I often viewed it as being selfish in nature. My perspectives. My emotions. It was even called self-expression. But the purpose came from having others find comfort and happiness in their reactions to my expression. Their joy fed my joy.
But there are days when I still find myself losing sight of this purpose, when it is a struggle both in the studio and in the outer world and I feel drawn back down to less positive feelings. But I will be somehow reminded of that purpose and that joyful feeling returns.
That happened the other day. A gallery owner called and told me of a person who had bought a painting of mine that they had desired for quite a long time. In fact, this person had come into the gallery for this painting and it was gone, having been returned to me. I sent the piece back to the gallery and when the person returned to get it, they started crying in joy. I can’t even express how this makes me feel outside of saying again that their joy fed my joy, their tears became my tears.
Those moments make my time alone in the studio seem more special and filled with purpose. They make me that joyous one, if only for a while.
And that is good enough for me…
Redtree Times 