The Secret Joy of Unseen Art: Why You Don’t Need to Share Everything
Recently I caught a snippet of an interview with Dolly Parton. She was talking about advice her mother once gave her. It was something to the effect of give what you have to give but always leave a little something for yourself. Wise words, I thought. She was talking specifically about her private life, but it got me pondering the idea of creative privacy. How do you practice that, especially as an artist in today's social media-dominant world where being seen is equated with being relevant?
Putting Dolly’s wise words into practice…
THE TOXIC CYCLE
It's a bit of a double bind for artists. On the one end you have the initial fear that most artists face in sharing something genuine and having it judged harshly. To counteract this and be supportive, the art community shows up with never-ending messages of "show me your art" "share your vision" or "your art deserves to be seen". I have been a voice in that chorus myself. My personal artist statement on my own website is about viewing art as a point of connection to yourself and others. I do avidly subscribe to people sharing their art.
However, once you shoot through that first tunnel of self-doubt, waiting on the other end is the reality of social media. At first it seems great. You've got a platform to hold up what you're doing and connect with others, but it can also be a trap. Many artists, including myself, have lamented the fact that to have the art they want to share actually be visible in the digital void that is Tiktok or Instagram or any other platform they have to constantly feed the algorithm content. And it's true. If you miss posting consistently, the algorithm will punish you. This often has the effect of artists feeling as though they need to constantly hit record every time they sit down to create. Consequently, every glimmer of creativity turns into an offering to the tech gods. And slowly, your creative spark burns out.
Secret art bundle. I usually make petite pieces when making art for myself. The smaller it is the better the secret!
Basically, if you don't feed the beast you don't get a place at the table, and if you do claim your place you can never leave. In a world where output is rewarded and input is taken for granted (by the system not necessarily the audience), keeping something for yourself seems like a luxury most can't afford. But, I actually think it's the key to breaking a toxic cycle.
BREAKING AWAY
Now when I say keep something for yourself, I don't just mean the messy, raw, process-oriented art in an art journal. While that is beautiful and special in its own right, this is something different. I'm talking about a creation you want to bring to life because you thought it would be cool and no one else ever needs to see it for that to be true.
It’s kind of like instead of making a meal for yourself with whatever is leftover in the cupboard, you decide on something special and serve it on the nice china and have the whole table to yourself while you enjoy it just because you can. It's giving yourself a moment of high quality artistic privacy. It’s this quiet privacy that breaks the cycle in three distinct ways.
A swirling vortex of color and shimmer. The type of cycle I prefer.
#1: You stay in tune with your own voice.
Think about it. If you are constantly trying to come up with content, you might lose sight of what you were trying to do in the first place. Let's face it, the hungry algorithm is insatiable and what you do is never enough. You might start singing songs that aren't yours to sing. I can't tell you how many hours I've wasted in rabbit holes trying to create art that right now just isn't mine to create (usually it's any time I try to really lean into realism—so amazing but so not my style to paint presently). Staying in touch with the types of creations you genuinely want to make gives a backbone to everything you touch. And while the art you do share might play with trends or branch out in new ways, at the core, it's still you. Clarity like that births authenticity and confidence, which in turn will help you find the audience that genuinely resonates with your work. The algorithm isn't as important when you have a solid network of connections.
#2: You keep the engagement healthy by setting boundaries.
Setting aside private art time also helps draw necessary boundaries around your creative energy. If you treat every creative thought as a potential piece of content, you lose your brakes. There's no stopping! Suddenly there is pressure for the output, things get rushed and quality gets impacted. The crash might be slow or quick. You crash either way. To avoid this, work on consistency over constancy. Instead of the constancy of endless creation, try consistently showing up for yourself one day a week for private art time. It'll take the pressure off. You can gather your creative self, and your other work will come more easily. And then, you can prioritize the rest of your creative energy for sharing with your audience at predictable intervals. It protects the work you do choose to share, giving it the space and breath it deserves.
A well-loved treasure box of petite pieces.
#3: You keep safe the childlike joy of creating just because you can.
This is the simplest, yet most vital, component of breaking the toxic cycle of being a human in a media machine-driven world. Innocence. By creating with no agenda and no eyes on you, you allow yourself to run wild, fan your flame, and keep that vitality burning bright.
ON YOUR OWN TERMS AND TIME
When deciding what to unveil creatively, I usually find myself asking, "Is this a secret you want share?" Often times it's a yes. But sometimes it's a no. Your art doesn't become art because someone looks at it. Your art becomes art when you take the time to let the inside voice out. When, how, or if you choose to share it is up to you. Some pieces I have on file will never be seen by anyone, except maybe my husband or friends who stop by my house for dinner or a coffee. It's not necessarily because the pieces are bad or vulnerable or anything else. It's because they're mine.
A glimpse. ;)
Do you have a piece of art that's just for you? Tell me why you chose to keep it private (without giving away the secret!) in the comments.