“It’s common to believe that life is a series of external experiences. And that we must live an outwardly extraordinary life in order to have something to share. The experience of our inner world is often completely overlooked.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A way of Being
Sometimes I catch myself. Not all the time, but some of the time. I catch myself weighing my life on what I experience externally. I wish I caught myself more often, to save myself from the exhaustion. I feel like even most of my internal life has become external. I tend to overshare, which is something I’m currently working on getting better at. I think one thing that’s helped is taking the time to work on longer form projects like the one I’ve started on about the Falls of the Ohio.
Most of what we experience through art in the age we live in is superficial. It’s external. The art isn’t necessarily superficial, but how we go about receiving it can be. For example, scrolling on social media, constantly having our phones out at a concert, or jumping to the last page of a book just to know how it ends. That also applies to making art. We can be so focused on creating for the superficial that we forget about the internal; what makes art, art.
Of course, our internal and external worlds coexist. One cannot be unaffected from the other. One’s inner world can only be influenced by one’s outer world and vice versa. This matters to the artist. The inner world to the artist is sacred. It’s a place that cultivates meaningful art. When we view an artist’s work, we are viewing a product of their inner world first given to them through the external. The external includes life experiences that are specific to them and general to their generation. The best art comes out of the artist processing those experiences through their inner world in a way that is raw.
This means you don’t have to have to live an extraordinary external life to make good art. Which, for me, is very comforting.
The tricky part is actually believing this for yourself.
An Over Rated Phrase
One phrase I keep hearing and have seen on too many photographer’s bio’s is “turning the mundane into the extraordinary” or “finding the extraordinary in the mundane”. I think we can all agree that this phrase has truth to it. Yes, if we look hard enough at things that typically go unnoticed we can find beauty and capture it in a way that helps other people see the extraordinary in it.
But contrary to popular belief, I think sometimes we look too hard to make things extraordinary that actually aren’t. Meaning that when we are searching for the mundane for the sake of making it extraordinary, it becomes neither. Rather, dare I say, it becomes kitsch. I would even argue that the phrase at hand has become kitsch. It’s one of those things that leaves a bad taste in your mouth after saying it because it just sounds so used. It’s like chewing a piece of gum that’s already been chewed a million times over. Do I think the phrase is bad? Of course not. It opens an intellectual door to many new artists who maybe haven’t experienced this concept yet. It’s how they internalize it that makes the difference.
If we are constantly trying to turn what we believe to be a mundane life into the extraordinary, then we exhaust ourselves. The mundane doesn’t seek attention. Once it’s spotted, it hides. Sometimes those things, whatever they are, show themselves to be extraordinary only when they are internalized, strained through our filter and slowly drip out into our art.
I thought this photo of a person sitting on the subway was an obvious choice for this month’s post.
They are just trying to get some sleep doing everything they can to shield themselves from the noise and and the constant shake from the subway. This photo sort of communicates what it looks like for me to try and enjoy my inner world more. I don’t physically put a hood over the front of my face and curl up in the dark. But there are times when metaphorically it feels like it. Even writing this Substack every month helps me think deeply about things, spend time internally, and go against the grain of the superficial.
I’ve come to appreciate making time to process things internally; to spend time alone and think about things. I’ve found that in these times I’ve come to make some of my best work or work that I cherish and hold close.
Shallow is one’s life who doesn’t think deeply about things.
Spend some time appreciating the experience of your inner world today.
Life Updates | Some Exciting Things
I’m grateful to share that I’ll be showing some of my Falls of the Ohio work in gallery form at Quills Coffee here in Louisville. Quills had held a special place for me since moving to Louisville. I’m grateful to have worked there for a couple of years having met some of my best friends. Since leaving there and starting at State Film about three years ago now, It’s still a place a visit everyday before work (I’m currently there right now writing this). There will be more info to come on when the pieces will be officially installed and ready to view, followed by an artist reception held at Quills.
Finally, another piece I submitted on a whim to a call from Aurora PhotoCenter got accepted and will be on display there from September throughout most of the year, going from one gallery to another one. I can give more info on that to come.
Thanks so much for reading, I’ll be seeing you.
Cheers,
Andrew