Craftsmanship is slow, patient and often humiliating work. This is because the purpose of art is self-actualization and nothing else, full stop. Such a task leaves little for image to hold when it's all said and done, the artist must get out of the way completely to make way for what is asking to come through them. This involves countless trips into the void, often returning empty-handed, it braves the idea itself that the goal here isn’t necessarily to create anything quantifiable by means of commerce, but rather honest work in which the artist lets go of the idea of obtaining anything.
This is where the terror lies in art. It is the baring of one’s soul with no guarantee of having the solace to ever rest one’s head. The security is that there is no security at all. It is all void, all free fall, a consistent unfolding mystery all the time. Art will quiet the maker in time. It will instruct the artist in the greater art–the art of living. The presence offered to observe oneself becomes that offered moment by moment to the entirety of existence. The embracing of the constant winds of change in the practice becomes the adaptability one accepts all of life’s challenges with. The carving away and seemingly passive patience that allows truth to unveil itself for sake of creation becomes the patience and persistence with which one meets all of life’s truths and challenges.
Art calls for sacred devotion, for the kind where the artist forgets themselves again and again, where time disappears and days pass without wondering what they amount to. Art braves the idea that all is process, now and forever. There is no final form, and if there is, it may be something akin to silence, where all things are held yet not a single thing needs expressing. We already are infinite, and art calls for the drawing of water out of that eternal well into various forms only the artist can bring forth. Art is service, and at the crest of its zenith, the servant and the task become one thing.