The Artist's Search for Meaning

A friend of mine and fellow artist recently admitted that she wants her art to mean something. I, likewise, must confess that this elusive search for meaning in my art has been a wiggly-worm that I have also desperately and deliciously enjoyed chasing. Meaning is such a slippery and subjective thing. It is something that can plague the thoughtful-minded among us in ceaseless ways. And for artists, it oftentimes does not satisfy us that our art should simply be. It must justify itself in order to exist. It must make a statement. It must mean something. So, analogous to paint being applied layer upon layer on the surface, we artists have a habit of layering meaning on top of meaning in a never-ending stratification of significances. A rabbit hole that has no bottom. And we like it that way. The deeper the better.

But what if the deepest meaning is the thing that we, as artists, most want to avoid? What if the bottom of the rabbit hole is the dreaded no-meaning? What if it is just being for being's sake, or, to use the old cliche, "art for art's sake?" For example, if the subject of one's painting were a plant or a landscape or some abstract idea, then does the subject of the painting ask why it is? Does the paint ask why it is? What about the canvas, or any other materials or tools that the artist utilizes in the making of one's art? And what about the hand? What about the eye? And what of the mind that creates the painting, the sculpture, the creation? Do the components used in the creation of the art ask about their own personal meaning? The answers to these questions vary widely and are heavily dependent upon one's own perspective on life and the universe.

Perhaps it is the artist's own inquiry into personal existence that is one of the main (but not exclusive) underlying reasons behind the need for meaning in his or her creations. Because it is not simply enough that we should just be. There must be a reason for being. But reason is ultimately, in and of itself, a being. Reasons, as we know them, are man-made things, after all. The fish don't go around asking other fish why they exist. Flowers don't have existential crises. It is the human need for one's own personal justification to exist within the mind of the artist that causes the outward projection of the search for meaning onto the artist's creations.

And to top it off, artists must also justify to the world their personal choice to be child-like and follow dreams, visions, and fanciful impulses to create rather than making the choice that most people make when they become adults, which is often to become employed for survival. This adds yet another layer to the need to justify one's validity in a world that most often tends to prioritize credibility, physical continuity of the body and financial abundance over the simple indulgence in joy, love, freedom and play. Artists can get caught up in those things too, particularly when they find themselves needing to need meaning before they just allow the creation to be for being's sake.

But there is nothing inherently wrong with meaning. Art, all kinds of art (visual, verbal, melodic, kinetic and vibratory art) is a means of communication, a conveyance of meaning. The kind that transcends the surface and delves deep. Deeper than dry and direct prose. Symbolism within the created is truly at the heart of a well thought out piece. That is where the good stuff is. And the reason for this, in my opinion, is because it is so inherently subjective. There is no direct translation from artist to viewer. All of the good intentions of the artist to get caught up in the conveyance of meaning are tossed away, as the voyeur of the art superimposes yet another personal meaning on top of what is created.

We do this all the time without even realizing it when we listen to the radio and hear a favorite song. It was the musician's impulse to create and convey an emotion felt within. And when you listen, you think not so much of the artist's life as you do your own. And then the song resonates with you on a level and intensity of emotion that is felt in a way that words cannot express. So, no creation ever needs words, particularly those in the form of prose, to justify itself. The feeling lives in a place within all of us that runs deeper than any amount of words are equipped to explain. And anyone who is tuned into their own sensitivities enough to receive the emotion of the creation would not ask for such a justification from the creator.

So, deeper still than meaning is impulse. Because the impulse to create precedes the meaning. So the artist, in the act of creation, does not always know the why. Sometimes and more importantly, it is the why which is discovered during or even after the process, if at all. Impulse is at the heart of the not-so-well-thought-out piece. The impromptu kind that just arises organically and spontaneously. This creative impulse is of a kind that is preceded by joy, love and a knowing beyond any articulable knowing. This is a place closer to where true being resides. Being that is the underpinning of all things, the creator of art, the idea of art, and the creation itself.

So meaning is a fun game that we, humans, play all the time. But we need to take ourselves lightly. It is not necessary to push the meaning. Let it be, and the meaning takes care of itself. It is the being beneath that preexists meaning. But this sparks yet another thought. Just because the fish and the flowers don't have existential crises, does not mean that there is not meaning to their being (I mean a meaning of the kind which is not merely assigned by human consumption). But that is just food for thought.