Tag Archives: art

Play Hurt

What are we trying to heal, anyway? The athlete knows the day will never come when he wakes up pain-free. He has to play hurt. (Steven Pressfield, The War of Art, pg. 48)

Play hurt. As long as you are living, you will be broken. Some part of you will be weak. You can’t eliminate the pain, but you can participate in the process of it being redeemed. 

That’s a daily choice for me – choosing to play hurt. But I think the opposite of it inevitably leads me to bitterness or apathy. So playing hurt may not be the easy choice. Or the comfortable choice. But, I’d rather limp along in pain than sit idle in bitterness.  

Honestly, I’m not so sure that YOU can heal you anyway. I think we’ve got to keep walking and, in doing so, participate in a process that will find us on the road to healing 6 months, 18 months, 2 years from now.

Don’t wait to be whole before walking alongside a friend who is also broken. Don’t wait to be perfect to write that book you’ve been waiting on, paint your next piece, take your next photo, write your next song. Believe that your creativity comes from a place in you deeper than your pain. And that your pain makes your creativity richer as it flows out through that place.

What a TV Show Reminded Me About the Power of Art

“It’s the oldest story in the world. One day you’re 17 & planning for someday. And then quietly, without you really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.” – One Tree Hill

One Tree Hill. I started watching the show in high school & didn’t miss an episode. I think I even owned the first couple of seasons on DVD at one point in time. Yes, I realize you may be laughing right now because, after all, to many the show is a teen soap opera. And I’ll admit, some of the story lines did indeed seem a bit overdramatic.

But, as I watched the series finale of the show this week I was close to tears. Over a fictionalized television show. And it struck me: this is why we create, this is the power of art.

The characters may be fictional, but their stories, the experiences, the heartaches, the tears, the laughter, the celebration, it’s real. Or at least grounded in reality. Because I can tell stories from my own life that would mimic them.

And on some level, I believe that is why we create – to know that we’re not alone, that we’re not crazy…to let others know they’re not alone & that they’re not crazy either. 

That is the power of art – of the stories woven into art. That TV show was more than just a story to me. It was my story…part of my story. I felt like I grew up with those characters, like I could relate to them & like we would be instant friends should we ever get the chance to have a conversation.

Art highlights those things in life which draw us together, the similarities in our stories that cross all sorts of lines drawn by the differences.

You know the other thing I noticed? The television writers didn’t have to tell me how to feel. They didn’t have to script out the meaning of the story or the lesson I was supposed to take away from it. No, they simply told the story. And the story did the talking. The story pulled me in on it’s own & let me take away from it what I would. And that is the power of art, a power that makes me feel. 

They Chose to Rewrite the Ending


“I’ll sing the song if you can play it on the guitar,” he said.

A google search later on a nearby iPhone & chords were in the guitar player’s hand.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

He stumbled through the first few notes…off-key & out of rhythm. Forgetting the words as he went. It was an embarrassing train-wreck in the making. A potential ego boost for the rest of the room.

But they chose to rewrite the ending of this story.

First the guitarist joined in, then the redhead on the couch, another “I love to sing but I’m not a singer” guy, next the long-haired blonde with an accent…soon the entire group was singing. A classic that had high school flashbacks playing in all of our minds.

Instead of embarrassment the ending was one of community. When he began to stumble…to lose the melody…the group quickly stepped in to carry him along for a bit. It may sound silly, but I see Jesus in these moments clear as day. His love & his life feel tangible for just a moment. 

I can’t guarantee you that all of those people in the room knew who Love is, but they certainly seemed to know what it means to live love. And I have a group of strangers to thank for helping me see Love just a bit more clearly…if even only for a moment.

When Pretense Disappears

It’s Sunday evening. A pleasantly cool spring breeze drifts in through an open window. 12 no longer strangers, not yet friends have broken from conversation to indulge in what, for many of them, is a first love. Some are trying to make it, others gave up on that dream long ago, & still others never wanted that in the first place. But for this moment in time music brings them together.

In a city like Nashville where at times it seems that every second person you meet is a “wannabe rockstar,” social gatherings can be filled with a lot of pretense. You may be picturing a room full of these “wannabes” & thinking that’s no place you’d want to be. I wouldn’t either.

But every so often, you stumble upon true artists. Musicians who are not only extremely talented but who would create music even if they never earned a penny from it. Musicians who write songs & pick up an instrument because it’s in their blood. Music is art for them & art is life. Put people like this…people to whom music is sacred…in a room together & pretense disappears.

Those are moments like that Sunday night when strangers, united by a love of music, become friends. Moments when each artist’s talent is celebrated. When it’s not about a spotlight but about collaboration…a challenge to see what kind of a freestyle song the group can create together…in the moment. A song that will likely never end up on any record or be sung from any stage. Yet it is art. Perhaps even art in its purest form. 

This pure art is what inspires me. It’s what makes the hair on my arms stand up, takes the breath out of my lungs, & leaves me fighting back tears. And when I stop to think about why I’m left with one answer: vulnerability. In those moments of raw creation emotions are vulnerable, hearts are put on the line. It seems to me this group of almost friends understands the sacredness & beauty of such moments, & doesn’t take their power lightly.

It’s experiences like this that remind me at my core why I believe in the power of beauty & art. Why I believe that beauty & art are sacred gifts. And why I believe that we as artists have a responsibility to employ them.

 

We Never Noticed

“We never noticed the beauty because we were too busy trying to create it.”

I read that somewhere the other day. And although I don’t remember where, it stuck with me. I think it stuck because I was convicted.

We live in a “hustle” society. Like focused work horses with blinders on, we set out to do the work. Finish the to-do list. Create the next great video. Write the next great story. Paint the next great work of art. And amidst all of it we are on a hunt for inspiration which can exhaust us at times.

But I wonder what would happen if we simply stopped.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying work isn’t necessary. Good ideas are meaningless if we never do anything about them. But I wonder…if we slowed down a step to notice the beauty around us would we discover inspiration happens naturally? Instead of trying desperately to create beauty could we more simply reflect the beauty that has soaked into our souls?

I realize that’s easier said than done when we’ve got overflowing calendars & alerts that remind us when we’re supposed to be creating beauty. But I encourage you to find ways to train yourself to notice the beauty.

Then, come back & share your tips with the rest of us :)