I wrote a poem about an artist friend of mine, who is very talented but struggles with the effort required to pursue success. I believe, while it is obviously important to obtain “success”, whatever that means, it is also, and perhaps even more important to appreciate one’s artistic creation simply for its value, and for the pleasure of the creative process. That way, if success arrives or not, there is still pleasure and satisfaction to be found.
The Artist
We meet for lunch, He the artist, Me the pretender
I seek his thoughts, Ask for guidance, Absorb his lessons
His talent is immense, Images created, A brush an extension of his eyes
Yet he is wounded, His outlook damaged, His joy impaired
Not by the work, By the business, By the establishment
He must seek work, It does not come easily, As for lesser artists
Those that submit, That play by the rules, That bend to them
He wants purity of art, To be romanced by it, For art’s sake
I admire him, I see myself in him, His passion is true
I wish he did not struggle so, I wish he could release his anger, I wish his focus was on joy
He gives of his talent, He works hard, I give him a hug