I’ve been filming myself painting lately and using the footage for my YouTube channel. Several years ago I made some videos for an art festival here in San Antonio called Luminaria. One of the videos I did was a day in the life montage where I filmed things like a typewriter (yes, in the past I used an electric typewriter at work) but did not film myself using it. In post production I added the sound of the typewriter being used. It was kind of an eerie film. I decided to do something similar with my current life.
I filmed myself in mediation, making meals, painting, writing, drawing. I then edited it together with subtitles explaining what I do in a day. I wanted it to be meditative and engrossing. So far the feedback I’ve gotten has been positive. So, I’m going to use this new approach with my YouTube channel and see if I can get more viewers.
Today I worked on one of my Jefferson High School paintings while filming. It’s probably one of the more interesting paintings of the school I’ve done. It’s of a staircase near the auditorium which has a lot of architectural details. I’m struggling with the previous painting I was working on last week, so I decided to move on to a new one and let that one go for a while.
I was reading The War of Art this morning and was struck by something he says. In the past I used to get these bursts of energy and go nuts making art. I’m embarrassed to say that at the time I thought it was some burst of creative genius or something. But according to Steven Pressfield it was simply resistance. “Resistance outwits the amateur with the oldest trick in the book: it uses his own enthusiasm against him.”
I’ve been coming to grips with the fact that for most of my adult life I’ve been approaching my art as an amateur rather than a professional. In a way it doesn’t surprise me because I’ve been coming to grips with the fact that for most of my adult life I’ve been living at a maturity level of a 12 year old, too. It’s been hard to see myself as I really am, but that’s the gist of it. I’ve struggled to grow up. I’ve struggled to see myself as an adult and take responsibility for myself. Steven Pressfield calls it amateur. I call it addict. But it’s pretty much the same thing.
So resistance gets the amateur to “plunge into a project with an overambitious and unrealistic timetable for its completion. It knows we can’t sustain that level of intensity. We will hit a wall. We will crash.” Resistance taps into our inner amateur’s need for instant gratification. But the professional is more like a turtle than a rabbit. Our inner professional knows that creativity comes in its own time, that you can’t write a novel overnight, that great paintings take time to unfold.
It’s so helpful to read this. I feel like he’s not only telling me how to be a professional artist but how live a sober life. Not just from alcohol or drugs but from needing the world to see me in a way that will override all my insecurities. Resistance convinces us we can pull off ‘the big score’ without pain or persistence.