Tag: Artist

Being an Artist Is an Act of Daring

Withered grass in the snow. Photo by Mihaela Limberea
“Is this good enough for my portfolio? Should I try taking more photos tomorrow?”

Being an artist is an act of daring. Daring to bare your soul to the world.  A creative person does his work at home and keeps it at home, away from critical eyes. An artist sends it out in the world for all to see, to enjoy it, and criticize it. This is what separates amateurs from professionals.

You know all those modern art pieces you sneered at, saying, “I could do that!”, “I could do that better!”. Well, why didn’t you? Why don’t you? 

Maybe you could. But that artist didn’t stop at talking about her art, how she was going to create this great piece, how innovative it was. She didn’t dream about creating that beautiful artwork while waiting to have more time or take another course. She acted on it. Intention and follow through. That’s why they say, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions and roofed with lost opportunities.” 

Good intentions and great plans will get you nowhere very fast. You get an excellent idea and think, “I have something here. This would be a perfect start for a novel.”. And so, you toy with the idea, dream about writing that novel, maybe even find it a catchy title. You can see the cover, with “a splendid debut”-blurb splashed over it. You write the opening lines.

The morning the first undead burst into the city, Mats woke up in a dilapidated garage, his head pulsing with the mother of all headaches. A dog stared at him, tail wagging furiously back and forth. Where the hell was he? What was he doing in this, this…place? With a terrier? If it was a terrier, Mats didn’t know much about dogs and, frankly, didn’t care. Of course, had he known about the undead, his view of things may have been slightly different.

The new genre-renewing zombie novel! And you will write it! As soon as you’ve finished that new book about writing horror, and you have a little more time to think about the plot. Days, weeks, and months go by, and you’re still re-working the first paragraph, slowly turning into Joseph Grand in the process. 

A field of ice. Photo by Mihaela Limberea
Field of Ice. Good enough?

The safest road to hell is the gradual one – the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. (C. S. LewisThe Screwtape Letters).

A true artist dares to send out her imperfect creation in the world. She wasn’t ready to; no artist ever is. But at some point, she’s made her peace with the work. It’s not as brilliant as she can see it in her mind’s eye, but she accepts that this is the best she can do right now. 

There’ll be criticism; there always is, of course. While nobody is ever ready for it, she moves on; she releases her soul’s child to the cold eyes of critics. Her work is done.

Creative people keep their creations close; anguished, they protect them. Artists release them to fend for themselves.


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Reading Lately: Three Books on Art, Artists, and Life

A black bird sitting on the edge of an infinity pool.
Stillness. Photo © Mihaela Limberea

Writing the post on Marina Abramovic got me thinking about artist biographies or memoirs, which I always love reading.

I’m thinking about posting a list of my favorites. But how could one ever compare and rank books (all art forms, for that matter)? It is an almost impossible task. And unfair. We’ll see.

Cover of the book Frida Kahlo A Biography by Hayden Herrera

Hayden Herrera, Frida: The Biography of Frida Kahlo

Another artist who lived her art. Her life, her house, her clothes – art, pure art, all of it. Hayden Herrera is an art historian, and it greatly benefits the book. A great read. Bonus: watch the life and art of Frida Kahlo in a four minutes video from TED Education. The animation is exquisite. Lesson by Iseult Gillespie. Animation by Ivana Bošnjak and Thomas Johnson.

Keith Richards  (yes, he of the Rolling Stones) – Life. I didn’t have any expectations; I didn’t know what to expect, and I loved it. He lived the rock and roll life, and now he’s telling us about it in a very personal, funny, and honest way. Absolutely fascinating.

And last but not least, Patti Smith’s Just Kids. One of my favorite books in which she remembers her remarkable relationship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe in the late sixties and seventies in her unique, lyrical style.

I met Patti Smith in 2011 when she came to Stockholm to receive the Swedish Polar Music Prize.

I met her as in ”I queued for several hours in the rain so she can sign my book.” I was so star-struck that I couldn’t say a word when my turn came; I just looked at her in awe; she understood and smiled.

The line outside NK, the department store where the signing took place. It rained, of course.


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About Art and Artists

A Sea Star
Sea Treasures Photo © Mihaela Limberea

A few weeks ago, I stumbled over an interesting article about art and artists, How to Be an Artist, by Jerry Saltz, the New York Magazine art critic. The whole article lists thirty-three points and is worth reading in full. I have inserted below a few points that resonated with me. Especially the last one. LOL.

  • Tell your own story, and you will be interesting.
  • Your skill will be whatever it is you’re doing differently.
  • Writers need editors.* No exceptions.
  • Life is your syllabus: gather from everywhere.
  • The best definition of success is time – the time to do your work.
  • Be delusional: I have one solution to turn away these demons: After beating yourself up for half an hour or so, stop and say out loud, ”Yeah, but I’m a fucking genius.”

* My comment: definitely; it’s sufficient to compare Andy Weir’s The Martian (self-published) to Artemis (published by  Ballantine Books). QED. I love Science-Fiction, and I did read the whole Martian. But I wished all the time for an editor. I almost grabbed a pen and started editing it myself.


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Fragmentary Blue

Man and Pegasus statue by Carl Milles, at Millesgården, Sweden. Photo © Mihaela Limberea www.limberea.com
Man and Pegasus by Carl Milles, Millesgården, Sweden. Photo © Mihaela Limberea

Why make so much of fragmentary blue

In here and there a bird, or butterfly,

Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,

When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)—

Though some savants make earth include the sky;

And blue so far above us comes so high,

It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

by Robert Frost (1874–1963)