Why Art?Written by Joseph Devon
The following is hardest thing Iíve ever had to write. If I can get through this, all way through this, than my little corner of universe will make sense again and Iíll be able to get a good nightís sleep. If I donít get through itÖwellÖif I donít get through it then you wonít be reading this and Iíve vanished off into world of obscurity. The following is hardest thing Iíve ever had to write for very simple reason that I, in no way, feel like writing it. My father always used to question my interest with art in general, with writing in specific. He used to say, ďIn an English class, you can argue a point around and around, and at end of class nobody will have been proven to have right answer. In engineering, on other hand, if someone doesnít have right answer, god-damned bridge will fall down.Ē His point was blunt it is whatís haunting me at this very moment. On one hand, you have very tangible fields of science with direct and provable facts that produce concrete results in our world. On other hand there is art, where no right answers exist and results, if any, are impossible to measure. The question is simple. Why art? Why am I writing this right now? Why not tuck it all away and become a banker? It canít just be because Iím lousy with numbers. What sets me down in front of my computer time and time again staring at a blank screen that Iím to fill up with words? Is it hopes and dreams of a best-selling book and immortality? Iíd be lying if I said it wasnít. But Iíd be lying if I said it was, too. Those kinds of hopes and dreams are very much a part of it, but truth is, those are things that get me to sit down and stop procrastinating. What happens after Iíve written first word, and is still happening after Iíve written first sentence, what continues to happen after first paragraph, first page, second page and on and on until ending has been reached, what happens then has very little to do with fame and fortune. Those thoughts are long gone and have been replaced by a string of images and thoughts constantly being converted into twelve-point Times New Roman font. Thoughts of money have never ended up with me figuring out perfect setting for a scene. Dreams of fame are not in my skull while I walk down street talking to myself, working out dialogue. And bestseller list is nowhere near my mind when I come up with perfect word to fit a sentence together. The enticement of a reward is not what makes me write, itís what gets me started, after that itís something else entirely. Writing, like painting, singing, sculpting, dancing, photography and acting is a form of expression. It is an attempt to communicate something inside with outside world. Something that is important, important enough to make me sit down time and time again in front of this Satanic blank screen. Thereís something inside of you, something inside of every human, that it screaming to get out, a universal truth. No, donít blush. I donít use those words lightly. Whatever you write, I know that itís something huge. I know it because swarming mass of whatever it was floating through your mind was enough to make you sit down and get past that first word, and second, and third, and so on until ending has been reached. Thatís a task that requires an enormous amount of will. Something is driving you. Something you want to say. It must be huge; blank screen is not a hurdle that is surmounted easily. Does that answer ďWhy artĒ question? No, not really. My fatherís statement contains far more than just a questioning of why I make myself write. It contains question of why art is important to begin with. The more tangible fields have produced a great deal in our world, from wheel to indoor plumbing. What has art produced besides more art? It art even that important? Couldnít we just do away with it altogether? If youíre like me, such a question makes you cringe with horror. Of course we canít do away with art! But have you ever tried to explain to a non-believer why such a thought is ludicrous? Itís not enough to take them to a museum and stand next to them enjoying a Van Gogh. That sets you at ease, but it doesnít answer question. And I canít settle for convincing myself, that wonít do it tonight. I know I wonít sleep if I stop there, specter of my father surely wontí be happy to leave it at that. Good news, though. I think Iím closer to an answer than it seems. Dragging a non-believer to a museum is answer, just not in way it seems. Your enjoyment of art is answer. Art is communication; Iíve already said that. Donít kid yourself, in anything you write there are only two characters, you and reader. There is a bond established between artist and viewer in which something is conveyed. As I said, something fundamental, even if itís only taking a few charactersí lives, tearing them apart, and then rebuilding them again by end of book. Something as to nature of what weíre all doing here is passed along, is encoded in each word, in each brush stroke, in each note, something harmonious, usually something simple. But something is passed on allowing you to enjoy, on some unexplainable level, art of others. And I think thatís answer. In engineering, if right answer is not present, then goddamned bridge falls down. But if all right answers are there in tangible sense, and bridge is built, is it worth it even if lives of those who walk across bridge are meaningless? No civilization has ever come into existence without artists. No civilization is complete without them. Without artists, civilization would not exist, we would only be isolated mass, unconnected, left to wander over bridge after bridge, because art is communication between one person and another. Art itself is a universal truth. If youíll forgive a slight digression, there is a Zen story that bears telling.
Freelance Writing Markets, Poetry Markets - Highly Paid -v- Unpaid by AskProfessors.comWritten by AskProfessors.com
Amazing as it may sound, there is a real shortage of good writers and poets. Try telling that to thousands of writers and poets who get daily rejection slips.
As far as they are concerned, writing is virtually impossible to break into no matter how hard they seem to try.
There may be a number of reasons why they don't succeed:
Their writing is not up to standard - as far as particular publishers or editors are concerned;
They don't bother polishing their writing before submission;
They knock on wrong doors - sending materials on a random basis;
They have failed to do basic research;
The list goes on.
1000s of publishers
There are of course thousands of publishers, especially online, who are willing to publish anything that you send them. Such publishers don't pay writers or poets. They expect that writers and poets should be grateful just to get published. That is reward enough.
Professional writers on other hand command handsome fees. They make a good living out of writing.
Anyone can become a professional writer. You just need determination to succeed. If you don't have a natural gift, you can learn to write well. This can be by self-study, online, or at a college or school near you.
High quality professional writers demand anything from $1000 to $5000 per project - and best earn substantially more. A project may involve just one page or a few poems.
Why do most aspiring writers and aspiring poets fail?
In a recent survey conducted on behalf of http://www.WritingHolidays.com, it became apparent that most writers and poets were not willing to invest time or effort in training or acquiring necessary skills.