Life Is Pain, Highness
I’ve been thinking about art and punishment.
That is, how we punish people for making art. There’s the more nuanced form, where we project our own insecurities onto a work. It’s not queer enough, it’s too dark, too much sex, unlikeable characters, etc. But I’m thinking about the systemic and societal teachings, especially in America, around art and productivity.
I think creativity is a fundamental human characteristic, though it manifests in different ways. Some people doodle in their notes or coordinate fashionable outfits, others cook lavish meals or take deep pleasure in repainting their bathroom. The desire to create, to make art, is a human one, and it has been co-opted by religion and commerce. Creation is only good when it is in service to the church / capital, anything else is hedonist sloth.
We see this in our education systems. “Don’t get an art degree, it’s worthless. You have to work for a living.” We see it in the constant devaluation of art. “My kid could do this.” We see it in our grindset culture. “A pottery class? Are you selling ceramics?” We see it in discussions of privilege. “You have time to knit? Must be nice.” Art is sidelined into a hobby, a childish pursuit, not worthy of decent pay or benefits, and only truly available to those with the money to afford such a luxury.
And yet, art is valuable. Media conglomerates tell the tale. People live on art and stories and television. People work jobs they hate so they can go out to the movies. The same people who say art majors are clueless are shelling out for streaming services, video games, Funko Pops. “AI” is sucking up all available IP, so VCs and programmers can pretend they created something beloved. Even the most sheltered billionaire, holed up in his imaginary château away from all signs of contemporary entertainment, admires the beauty of stained glass. The heft of an artisan spoon.
And this is where the punishment comes in. It’s not that people actually think art is pointless. It’s that they are jealous at the idea of someone else getting paid to do it. They, too, want to be paid to make art. They find creation joyous, however small their attempts. There is art and there is work, and you only deserve money if you suffer. You only deserve food, shelter, a savings account, a car, security, peace, if you spend half of your waking hours doing something you hate for someone who doesn’t care about you.
(I think this jealousy is also the root of sex work discrimination. How dare you get paid for doing something I find pleasurable. How dare you use your talents in a way I cannot. How dare you. I will punish you.)
I find this very sad. Aside from the fact that many parts of art are work, requiring dedication and study, the fact that American culture runs on jealousy is such a sad way to spend our lives. I understand this comes from the top, molded by CEOs, government officials, and religious leaders. I understand our lack of social systems has forced people to be intensely guarded and individualistic, itching to step on whoever is in reach. The American Dream has done its best to sever us from our bodily humanity, the side of us that desires to arrange flowers, to compose an original song.
I hope you are taking care of yourself with the ability that you have. I hope you find some way to carve out time to make art, not for money, but for you. I hope we don’t run out of time before the people keeping this from us can be convinced otherwise. I hope those people who rage against UBI or universal healthcare find that they, too, can make art when given proper safety nets and care. Eventually they might find joy in the act of creation, in being a sentient animal alive for only so long, in the heft of an artisan spoon.
Writing Updates
The novella is with first readers, and I chucked a short story at some lit mags for a new experience.
I find myself without a new writing project on deck, and it’s very odd. I know my brain just needs to rest, but I have all this pent up energy in the evenings and way more idle time than usual. It’s fine for now, since I have some Life Things to handle (the pain, etc etc), but I’ll be glad when the spark returns.
Cool Shit
Speaking of creating art within the frail timespan of human existence, archeologists have uncovered new frescos in Pompeii.
Spring is here, which means it’s time to ring the fish doorbell. Help real migrating fish swim through the lock and up the canals of Utrecht so they can spawn.
Voting for the Locus Awards closes tomorrow (April 15th) and I’m on the longlist ballot for “Where the God-Knives Tread.” But, you can write-in any work you want! It’s free and available to all. Give your favorite creators some recognition.
excellent