We’re not alone, we creatures that create artistically and then quit before getting snagged into success. I once knew a man who carved figures out of fine wood. His work, I’m sure, could have been featured in the best museums of the world but the few I saw were in his home. I asked him, “Have you attempted to show your work anywhere?” His answer as he turned away was simply, “No.” I didn’t pursue the question because I knew. He simply didn’t want to be famous. He had other things in life to seek out. Like kayaking around the Great Lakes, (which he did,) climbing mountains, (he did that too,) and other things I didn’t know about. “Success” would have deprived him of his freedom. Even money can do that.
I’m writing this blog’s first draft using my first big art project, The LapMaker.
Lapboards were not something you could easily find in those days when we lived on a ranch in Oregon, and I had designed one that I thought would take the world by storm. It would be sleek, functional, and have an indestructible surface with a design depicting simply some Oregonian nature scene. A lake, a mountain, a river, a flower. Also each of the four designs had a poem reflecting its name, - LapMaker. With the help of a wood-craftsman and a silk screen artist I could produce them as fast as they sold. We’d all make a fortune! They came to the public in a few choice stores including one in Portland exclusively for Oregon art.
The sales were disappointing, probably because I had to charge twice my basic expense in their manufacture. Soon bookstores came out with cheap lapboards devoid of design but cushioned with a pillow. Probably made in China. They sold like hotcakes! So much for a monetary motive. My other motives, art, design, craftsmanship and imagination were not enough to make the effort a success. I kept a few, gave away some and simply quit making them.
Clay sculpting of faces and heads that look so real they make you think they’re people out of the past were my next endeavor. I did this just for fun without the thought of selling them. Finally, I tried selling some in a gallery. But I wouldn’t put my best ones there; I’d be selling my soul to put a dollar sign on these! “Faces From Somewhere In Time” drew impressed viewers but only one buyer in three months. Some woman was happy to part with $80. for a small face. A bare chance, I suppose, that she saw someone she’d once loved in that little face. How often was that to happen? As much joy as I’ve had sculpting I’ve quit, at least for now. The best ones hang in my bedroom, the next best have been given to relatives and friends. The ones who still claim a piece of my heart, the ones only a mother could love, are tucked away in a bottom drawer.
Writing has been a life-long pleasure to me and I did finish a book, a novel based on my life, had it published and sold about four hundred copies. But without more demand there was no use pursuing that. Maybe I’ll finish the memoir I started for my children someday, but I need to work up the ambition I left somewhere on a back road.
Why am I such a quitter? I think there are countless artists like me. We’re, simply put, turned off on success in a big way. Success is when we please ourselves. Worldly success would call upon sacrifice, dedication, the giving over of one’s life to something that could drain away the inspiration that started it. Like infatuation. Best to let it drift away while it’s fresh and fanciful than to let it grow stale and stern.
If there should be a Quitters Club I’m sure it’s not lacking for members. You may not know them because they don’t meet. They’re out somewhere enjoying themselves in other projects and plans. Or just chilling out somewhere alone.
My LapMaker lapboard is resting today. This post is in about its third draft. But the first fruits did fall into my lap. And on the surface of LapMaker #1. the first poem and the first design of a blue field blossom that grew in Oregon on a hill across from a Siskiyou foothill still speak to me. From the heart they say:
Make me a lap
to catch me a dream.
Don’t make me worry
or struggle or scheme.
A dream doesn’t need me
to lend it a hand.
Just make me a lap
where my dream can land.
In a section of Prose Works, called "Acknowledgment of Gifts," Mary Baker Eddy makes a statement that speaks to what you are saying above about the rewards for good works, and quitting (leaving) the downsides of success and fame. She says, simply, "Goodness never fails to receive its reward, for goodness makes life a blessing." Then she gives a great (scientific) response to the question, "What am I?" by saying this: "I am able to impart truth, health, and happiness, and this is my rock of salvation and my reason for existing." All your gifts, Mom, your "works" whether they have sold in stores or not are worthy, because they impart the thoughtful elements of truth, health, and happiness. No quitter you, Mom! Let your works carry on!
ReplyDelete