{"id":17938,"date":"2013-05-10T00:00:52","date_gmt":"2013-05-10T05:00:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.davidmcelroy.org\/?p=17938"},"modified":"2013-05-10T01:49:18","modified_gmt":"2013-05-10T06:49:18","slug":"why-is-it-so-hard-to-make-good-art-its-something-ill-never-understand","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/?p=17938","title":{"rendered":"Why is it so hard to make good art? It’s something I’ll never understand"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Sunset-March<\/a><\/p>\n

Eight years ago, I made a short film. I had been saying for years that I wanted to make movies, but I hadn’t done anything about it. I was scared and I found every excuse under the sun not to do anything other than talk about it.<\/p>\n

Then I met a woman. She was interested in film. She was interested in me. I was intensely interested in her and I wanted her to fall in love with me. I wanted to impress her and I wanted her to be proud of me.<\/p>\n

So I put aside my fear and my insecurity and my ignorance. I made a film<\/a>. It wasn’t a perfect film, but it was good enough to get into 20 smaller film festivals and win five awards.<\/p>\n

The woman and I did fall in love. In a very real sense, my film was a love letter to her. It never would have been made without her in my life.<\/p>\n

I think about this a lot lately when I think about why I haven’t made any more films and why I’m not turning out the kind of art I’d like to be making. I have several scripts in various stages of pre-production. I have a documentary that I’m working with a producer to try to bring to life. I even wrote half of a book last year that I ended up deleting in despair because I didn’t love it enough.<\/p>\n

But I’m not finishing things. I don’t have enough enthusiasm for anything. I’m not using the talent that I know I have. Why not?<\/p>\n

We’re told that we should do the work we do for ourselves — because we simply want to do them — instead of doing things for other people. I can honestly see that point of view, but I know it’s a sterile argument that leaves me cold. The only motivation I know is love — wanting to conquer things and win things as treasure to give to someone I love. Money and power and position don’t mean anything to me. Being loved and understood and appreciated is all that works for me.<\/p>\n

A couple of days ago, a friend and I were talking about why I’m not doing the things I ought to be doing. She’s been encouraging me to write a book. Earlier this week on Facebook, I had joked that I could write an entire book about the things I didn’t understand. (Another friend quipped, “Just one<\/em>?”)<\/p>\n

\"Tree-lined<\/a>Mary thought it could be a good concept for a book, so she’s been encouraging me to do something about it. She mocked up a fake front cover, using a picture I happened to post earlier in the week (the one at right) and her whimsical idea of what it could look like. (Here’s the art<\/a> she came up with and sent to me.) She’s trying to prod me to do almost anything, and this was her fun way to do it.<\/p>\n

I have books to write. I have films to make. I even have photos that I’d love to turn into a gallery show. I have things I want to make. I have things I need<\/em> to make.<\/p>\n

I just don’t know how to do it without the right person to do it for — the right person to give it to.<\/p>\n

In my mind, I have a very old-fashioned image about this. I picture myself putting all of my talent and effort and sweat into making things and then laying them before someone I love. I picture myself saying, “I made this for you. I can’t give you the world, but I can give you myself. And this is what I know how to make. I hope you like it.”<\/p>\n

I have to have a reason to make good art. Without love as a motivation, I’m just being a craftsman making a pretty trinket. It’s not real art, at least not in the way I understand it. In some mystical way that I can’t explain, love is the magic elixir that turns the work of a craftsman into the work of an artist.<\/p>\n

Maybe there’s a better way. I honestly don’t know. I just know that the only way I know to breathe life into my work — and make it become good art — is if my sincere message to a woman is, “I made this for you because I love you. I hope you like it.”<\/p>\n

Without that, I’m just making pretty pictures and stringing together pleasant words that don’t mean a thing.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Eight years ago, I made a short film. I had been saying for years that I wanted to make movies, but I hadn’t done anything about it. I was scared and I found every excuse under the sun not to do anything other than talk about it. Then I met a woman. She was interested Keep Reading<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-17938","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p1x9iR-4Fk","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17938","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=17938"}],"version-history":[{"count":14,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17938\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17954,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17938\/revisions\/17954"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=17938"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=17938"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/davidmcelroy.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=17938"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}