I guess most of us don’t become artists, but end up artists. What I mean by this is that as the kids that grow up in an engineer household, filled with technical models, equations and maths, can end up loving physics as much — if not more — than their parents, they ultimately have no control over the fact that they were born into such an environment. No-one does.

We could’ve just as easily been born a carpenter’s son or a lawyer’s daughter — or even not at all for that matter — the chances of us being who we are because of where we started out are almost ineffable in the grander scheme of things.

And yet we ended up enthralled by the beauty and complexity of the world; be it out of curiosity, a need to make things beautiful or to tell a story. Some end up artists because of a great amount of pain that becomes unbearable to hold in and can only be released by the primal act of raw and unfiltered expression. 

Others seek approval and build beautiful objects because they need to prove their value to other people in society. And some, some just see the world full of people with unfulfilled dreams and desires and feel it’s their duty to give the gift of beauty and of the sublime to those that cannot attain it by themselves.

A lot of conversations about art and us artists today are based upon the fact that anyone that does not create because they have to (the same as they have to breathe) — that is from a deep, core need that gnaws at the soul if left unattended — if they are not creating out of this exact need, they are deemed an imposter. A fake.

My question is, how many of us have ever ventured into a bank and talked to a fake banker, bought bread from a fake baker and got sold a car from a fake car dealer? Not because they were pretending to be one, but because they just didn’t sell bread because of their hearts desire but out of a necessity to survive and to hopefully, eventually find some meaning, their own small spot of ground to stand upon in this convoluted world by doing what they did.

But we don’t act the same way towards such people — other bankers, bakers and car dealers might, but I couldn’t say. We accept the fact that most other professions are done by people with various internal motivations; some do it for the money and the power, others want to have fun, still others may feel a need to create order and some just want to make the place better for everybody.

And yet we judge people that create art, but aren’t inline with our own wants. 

Is art made for power really worse than art that was made because someone wanted to have some fun? Have you ever looked at the Last Supper fresco and thought to yourself: “Hm, if only he hadn’t done it for the reputation and respect. If only he did it because he was as passionate about god as the rich cardinal that helped rewrite parts of the bible to secure his place in power.” 

If only we stopped and took a moment to think about all the issues we have with other artists (and people in general), that do their thing a bit differently. We may just find that Jane’s decision to paint because she likes to, but really enjoys the social powers at play in the art world, isn’t wrong on the merit of some universal law that stated: “Thou shalt not profit from art.” but because it indirectly attacks our idea of what art means to us.

There is no right or wrong though, unless of course your idea of an artistic masterpiece is harming others and painting all of your works with lead white and uranium orange. 

The only real standard of a product as subjective as art can only come from within each of ourselves. It’s not hard to judge a wire transfer done incorrectly or a burned loaf of bread, but art isn’t utilitarian and as such there really are no right answers, only wrong questions.