be a good artist
A few months ago, I was watching the ceremony for Jay Z’s induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Yes, I know, it seems like everyone’s a rock ‘n’ roll artist now. (They’re even putting Dolly Parton in the Hall of Fame.) But something stood out to me in Dave Chappelle’s induction speech for the super-influential hip-hop artist.
He described Jay Z’s creative act like this.
When he would get in the studio—like God—he would do the verse, he would let it be, and it would be.
When I heard that—from one artist at the top of his game about another artist at the top of his game—I thought, What a great description. I want to be that good.
I’m engaging in my art now. Writing. Bending letters and words and punctuation into shapes and sounds and pictures. But I will go back and edit and revise and agonize over the pictures I have made and the words I’ve strung together. There will be no letting it be.
Even now, as you read, I am wondering whether this piece is good enough. Whether it is making my point as well as it is made in my own head.
I want to be as good at my art as Jay Z is at his. I want to write the words and let them be.
But I can’t. At least not yet. I have to mess and fuss and fiddle with them until they are just right. Or at least under enough control that I can make peace with parading them out into the world.
But the goal remains: to be as good as Jay Z. Or, more applicably, as good as my favorite short story writer, Flannery O’Connor.
When a reporter asked, “Why do you write?” she said, “Because I’m good at it.”
At first blush, that may sound arrogant. Prideful. But I think it’s justified pride. A pride that one should feel if they have put in the work and the practice to be good at their art.
I love seeing people who are good at what they do. People who know their chosen subject matter backwards and forwards. People who have put in the work to be good at their craft and are excited and confident about it.
Once, I took my car to a mechanic. He diagnosed the problem, told me the solution, and determined how much it would cost to fix in about thirty seconds. I love that. He’s a good artist.
Maybe you’ve read this far because you want to be a good artist too and are searching for some trick, some key that will unlock the secrets. But I can tell you that there is none.
There is only study and work. And more study and work.
That’s the essence of good artistry: commitment. All-in. No holds barred.
Practice. Practice. And more practice. Perhaps something close to perfection will result.
I’ve got to be a good artist. So that’s why I return to the page, pen in hand.
Perhaps one day, if I keep practicing, I’ll be good enough to write the words and let them be.