Art Night and Pain: Part 1

On Sunday evening just over a week ago, we had an Art Night at my church. I loved seeing the paintings and sketches, listening to songs and poems and fiction, and watching the artists speak passionately about their talents and passions that mean so much to them. And it got me thinking about pain and art.

One of the artists was explaining her (chalk, I think it was) drawing of a mother cuddling a newborn... in the painting it looks as if she is whispering her baby girl to sleep. She explained that the art was done at the request of a friend whose baby was born sleeping.

When she said "born sleeping," my stomach gave a momentary lurch; I had never heard the euphemism before but could guess what it meant. She went on to give more details about the piece, and someone asked, "Was the baby okay?"

"No." The artist spoke quickly. "She was not okay."

I started thinking about why the artist's friend wanted the drawing, exactly. Surely not just to remember what must have been one of the most painful days of her life, which could have been done with a photograph. It wasn't necessarily to express herself because she wasn't the one painting it. But she wanted a piece of art about it.

And then I realized how many of the other pieces of art dealt with pain, with the times in our lives that are "not okay." One person sang a song she had written about her struggle to deal with her own shortcomings. Another read a poem expressing the shame and sadness she felt after speaking harshly to her son. Another shared an excerpt from her novel manuscript, a story (based in her own life) about two sisters with a rough past.

So I started wondering to myself why so much of art deals with pain. It deals with hurt and ugliness and experiences people would rather forget. Artists are driven to create pieces based in wounds, and even those who don't express themselves artistically often desire to see their pain reflected in pieces of art. When people could turn to God or therapy or talk it out or walk away and forget it, why do so many of us have the impulse to create or see something created that has to do with our bad experience? Why does art offer more healing of our torments and afflictions than simple understanding? It's more than just expression... if that was the case we could just (prose) write or talk it out.

I have some ideas about why this is, but I was just curious what any readers out there think, and I wanted to get your ideas to help me reconsider and process mine. What connects art and pain? Why are we driven to create about things that are not okay?

Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I'd still love to hear any thoughts you have about it... I'll post my own thoughts later on.

Who's Critiquing You?

One of the best things I've ever been part of is my writing critique group. Initially, I asked a writer friend to be part of it (and she brought one of her writer friends) because I just wasn't writing. I was in graduate school at the time, and had been earning my bachelor's degree before that, so I hadn't really committed myself to writing anything for a long time. I wrote occasionally when inspiration struck, but as many writers know, that happens approximately three percent of the time, so laziness and business kept me from really pursuing anything.

It was time to get serious. It was time to get accountability. So I formed a writing group with my friends Rachel and Christine, and it turned out to be even better than I thought.

It's not just the accountability, the fact that I know have to produce something readable for them every two weeks. Having Rachel and Christine constantly critiquing my writing has made me a much better writer, and according to them, I've helped them in the same way. So I started thinking about how and why these critiquing meetings are so helpful, and how these elements apply across a variety of arts and other disciplines.

My advice? Whatever your art or discipline, consider getting a critique group of peers. Here's why:

• Writing (practice). Writers, editors, and teachers will tell you that if you want to become a better writer, you need to write. Same goes for any field. The more you do it, typically, the better you get.
• Reading (learning and inspiration). These same writers, editors, and teachers will also tell you that reading is a key to better writing. I love reading for fun, but sometimes life gets busy. Even if I don't pick up a single fiction book between meetings, I read and think about anywhere from twenty to forty pages of fiction from Christine and Rachel. (Similarly, watching other teachers has given me a lot of inspiration and great ideas and techniques.)
• Receiving criticism. Nobody likes to hear that a particular character was boring, or the moment you thought was so climactic fell flat. But if no one tells you, you won't fix it, and you may not change your approach in future projects. No matter what your discipline is, you not only have to be open to criticism, but you have to actively request it from people you trust. That's the beauty of my writing group: we've been working together for so long that we are really honest. Brutally honest. We are not unnecessarily harsh, but we don't hesitate to say, "I don't think that worked" or "I just don't think this chapter made any sense." Occasionally, one of us leaves the meeting close to tears. But fixing your issues teaches perseverance and hones your craft, and our writing is always better for it.
• Different perspectives. I recommend opening up your art or discipline to a variety of people, because especially when it comes to art, there are some things that are just plain subjective. That is why having three of us works so well. Usually, if two of us have the same criticism, the author takes it as a genuine problem that needs to be fixed. But sometimes the two readers will completely disagree on whether or not a particular issue is a problem, or how one character's action can or should be interpreted. When that's the case, the writer usually decides whether they agree that it's a problem that needs to be addressed or whether the interpretation is one they like. Not everyone likes the same thing. Having different people critique you helps you know when you actually have a problem and when it's just one reader's opinion.
• Offering criticism. This may be one of the most difficult parts of a critique group. When a plot doesn't work, a character is unbelievable, or the tone is inconsistent, it can be difficult to precisely pinpoint how the problem happens, and sometimes even more difficult to offer a truly helpful solution for how to fix or improve the problem. But being specifically constructive in your feedback does three things: 

1. It helps you become a better writer, because you've worked through a writing problem and can be aware of it in your future efforts.
2. It keeps you humble. It's so easy to criticize and point out what you don't like. It's harder to solve problems.
3. It builds trust. Your writer friends know you're on their side, that you're not just in a bad mood that day, but you are trying to help them write better because you've taken time and effort to really address the issue.

I do think it's worth noting that you probably want your critique group to be formed by your peers. Of course, you want to get help from the masters: great teachers who've been working for thirty years, professors, published authors, CEOs who have successfully led companies for years. They can help you grow by leaps and bounds. But a critique group formed by people close to your level means that no one is too far ahead (and so gets bored or finds it painful to examine your work on a consistent basis) or too far behind (and thinks everything you do is amazingly wonderful). Christine, Rachel, and I write at similar levels. We are each strong and weak in different areas, so that helps us help each other, and I don't think it would work the same way if we were had vastly different abilities.

Whether you write, sing, paint, lead Bible studies, knit, teach, preach, counsel, or guide a team, make the effort to get a few people you trust who will constantly offer you feedback about how to get better, and will hopefully offer to do the same for you. It usually leads to better art, or whatever it is you do. :)