L'Art Pour L'Art

December 11, 2024


I make art because I love it. Because it speaks to something deep within me that can’t be put into words. It’s a conversation between my inner world and the world around me, and the process itself is where the magic lies. If, by chance, my art resonates with someone else, if it means something to them, that’s wonderful. But I never begin or finish a piece with the intention of parting with it. During the creative process, the thought letting go of something I’ve poured so much of myself into, is the furthest thing from my mind.

Root of Creation

For me, art is a deeply personal experience. It’s an exploration of thought, emotion, and the space between the two. When I start a piece, I am not thinking about how it will be received, how much it will sell for, or even whether it will be good enough to hang on someone’s wall. I am thinking about the act of creation itself — the rhythm of my hand moving across a canvas, the texture forming as I layer color after color, the flow of lines that express an idea or a feeling I’ve been trying to communicate.

Art is a form of therapy, a way to process my thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, it’s an escape; other times, it’s a confrontation with my deepest insecurities. It’s about expressing something I can’t say with words, and the process is often as fulfilling as the finished piece.

The Intimacy of Making Art

When I work on a piece, I am alone with it. I am in a relationship with that canvas or block of clay or piece of paper. I don’t make art to be looked at by others, to be judged, or to be validated. The only validation I seek is from the work itself — from the feeling of it coming together, from the sense of connection I feel in the act of creation.

I’ve heard some artists say that once a piece is finished, it’s no longer theirs. It belongs to the viewer, to the audience. While I understand the sentiment, it doesn’t quite resonate with me. The piece will always carry the trace of my hand, my soul, my intentions. It is mine in a way that words and objects can’t quite capture. Even if it moves on to someone else, it’s still a part of me. But that connection, that intimacy, isn’t about creating something for someone else to own — it’s about creating something that belongs to me, something I can look at and say, "I made this."

Trap of Commercialization

It’s hard to escape the pressure to commodify art in today’s world. We live in a society that constantly tells us to "monetize" our passions, to turn everything we love into a source of income. And yes, I understand the practicality of making a living from one’s craft. But for me, that’s never been the driving force. The moment I start thinking about art in terms of its market value — its price, its demand, its commercial potential — it stops being about love and starts being about transactions. The process becomes tainted by external expectations, and the joy of creation is replaced by the stress of selling.

So many artists struggle with this duality — wanting to create for the pure joy of it, but feeling the pressure to "make it" in the commercial world. It’s a difficult line to walk. And while I don’t believe there’s anything inherently wrong with selling art, I do believe that when the focus shifts to selling, it can sometimes rob the work of its soul.

When Art Finds Its Way to Others

Despite my reluctance to part with it, there’s something incredibly rewarding when someone connects with my work. It’s a humbling experience, to know that what I created with so much love and intent has touched someone else in some meaningful way. Art, after all, is meant to be shared. But even then, the act of sharing feels more like a gift than a transaction. It’s not about selling — it’s about offering something that I’ve created from a place of passion and love, and seeing how it resonates with someone else’s soul.

If a piece I’ve made is meaningful to someone else, then I’m honored. But the piece will always have a place in my heart. It’s like a part of me is now out in the world, existing in someone else’s space, but it will never really leave me.

Art as an Expression of Self

At the end of the day, I make art because it’s a reflection of who I am. It’s my way of making sense of the world and my place in it. The connection I feel to my work, and the connection I hope to foster with others, is not transactional. It’s emotional, spiritual, and deeply human. Art is a bridge between myself and the world, but it begins with me, with what I love, with what I need to express.

I make art because it’s my lifeblood, because it’s how I communicate, because it’s how I understand myself. If it means something to you too, all the better. But selling it, parting with it — that’s never the point. Art will always be something I create for myself, first and foremost. And if, in the end, it finds a place in someone else’s heart, then that’s simply a beautiful bonus.