An excerpt from my groundbreaking book, An Artist Empowered:

PROPHECY 

Some time ago, I had met Peter, an artist of some note. He had one of those meteoric rises to fame straight out of his master of fine arts education, but, as of late, interest among the public had been waning for whatever reason.

One late afternoon, we were in his studio loft sitting on a large old couch where he kept on complaining about what a ‘curse’ art was for him. He spoke of the ‘burden’ that had been thrust upon him—not unlike Cassandra. In the Greek legend, Cassandra, the Trojan princess received the art of prophecy from Apollo. Because she wouldn’t accept him as a lover, he changed her blessing to a curse, causing her prophecies never to be believed. Artist, do you feel a direction connection to this myth?

Peter went on with his laundry list of the problems that art was causing him—from being stuck in a style, financial woes, losing his wife and kids, to the bleakness he saw as his future.

I didn’t see it that way, I told him. “Art is a blessing, a gift, not a burden or a curse.”

He didn’t or couldn’t hear me. This was by no means the first time I had listened to an artist bemoan his talent—and such whining came from artists known to unknown.

“How long have you been painting?” I said.

He shrugged. “Ever since I can remember. I was in grade school … a long time.”

“You’ve lost perspective,” I told him. “You now take your art for granted and it knows it.” Who was I to second-guess him? He had been making and selling art for ages and knew much more about the art scene than I. But he had become jaded by experience, which wasn’t serving him now.

He shook his head from side to side. “What are you talking about? You just don’t know,” he said.

And what could I know? From his perspective, after all, he was known, he was in museums, and I was this younger upstart yet to be ‘discovered’.

I decided to ignore the self-pity and condescension in his voice. How could he know what I knew? If you don’t complain, others, those pathologically self-absorbed, often misinterpret your attitude for a seeming absence of problems.

I said, “tee gee eye f.”

Peter looked at me, one eyebrow arching upward. He couldn’t figure out what I was getting at.

“What? tee gee …”

“You know what that means?” I said.

He sat upright. “Sure,” he said. “You mean that restaurant chain, tgif. You want to grab a bite there? They’ve got some action there I heard.”

“Close,” I said. “I do mean the worker’s proclamation: Thank God It’s

Friday.”

Peter, the artist, dropped down and slouched even more deeply into the couch.

“When was the last time you thought about that?” I said.

After searching his memory, he told me, not for a real long time.

“I would call that quite a payoff,” I said. “People who rally around tgif are mostly those serving their time at a job they certainly would rather not be doing, or at a job some may even hate.”

“Your point,” he said, pressing, rubbing, and massaging his head against the couch.

“I don’t think about it either. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, they’re all days that flow from one into the other and blissfully would be my choice. I am not a slave to society … to the machine that civilization has constructed. And I don’t think you are. Are you?”

He sighed. The weight of the solar system was upon him; it seemed from his posture that life was more than he could endure.

One of my adopted rules is no complaining or whining. If you truly see your art as a curse, you would be an idiot to continue. But, if you are simply being histrionic, then I don’t know why you would enter that melodrama either. I am not discounting the events. The artist must pay his dues, and not everyone understands the passion—which sometimes and most especially includes wives, husbands, and other family folk.

“TGIF,” he said, nodding as if something was clicking within him. Then, without a word, he stood up, went over to several easels with a canvas in progress on each. He picked up a brush loaded with oil and went to work on the largest piece.

I watched for a while, saw that he was in a better place, then got ready to leave.

“Don’t go,” he said.

“I’ve got to. There’s a canvas waiting for me, too.”

“Eden … my friend, listen … please use one of mine here. I started it. Why don’t you finish it?”

I felt that was a good idea and accepted.

We both went to work—two artists transforming paint against canvas as evening light seduced the studio with an even natural cast. With divine fire in our hands, we were immune to muses and vengeful gods. Creation was in the air, and we were breathing, inspiring, its essence. We could, I thought, in this heavenly ether, predict a future that we both could live in and one that we could believe in ourselves.

In all the subsequent times we ran into each other, Peter would smile and say ‘tgif brother’—which became his code expression for the freedom that art bestowed rather than it being a curse. He didn’t complain, at least not to me. He was looking fit and his wife for some reason wanted to try again, and life he told me was now much richer.

I had done my karmic work.  Remember, if you see it, you own it.

CONNECTING ON A DEEPER INTUITIVE LEVEL

My art-making is based on the physical flow of spontaneous intuition, which involves a remarkable journey. Impulses of energy and information surge down my arm and, through improvisation, I compose visual jazz with line and color. If the art-making is magic, then the art is magic. 

What does my painting The Prophecy reveal to you? There is no right or wrong answer. Trust your feelings, not the opinion of others, including art critics and so-called experts. Remember, if you see it, then it’s there. Enjoy. Click on the painting for more details. 

To get a better feel for the scope and range of my art, please visit my collection of original Fine Art prints: each signed print features museum-quality materials, permanent pigment inks, plus acid-free matting that I attach to the artwork using conservation best practices. 

To further connect with you, I share more of the inner workings and depth of my art and exclusive personal insights in my newsletter. Subscribe below and receive a free valuable gift: Ten Tips for Building Self-Confidence.