The Essential Sadness of Art – Words By Jeff Goins

Art – the essence of new, unique creations. Art is not meant to make us feel comfortable – it is meant to disturb us. Art is supposed to make us feel something. It is meant to leave us with a prolonged emotion…a lasting feeling that has the potential to change us forever. Art causes change. It causes us to relive old memories – some we’d like to forget and some we will always remember. It causes us to want a better life. It causes us to dream. In this article, the prolific writer, Jeff Goins, speaks about art and it’s ability to inspire change. Continue reading below if you want your daily dose of inspiration; and check out his blog as well. It’s awesome. Enjoy! 

Writing is easy. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.

—Ernest Hemingway

Ever seen a movie that broke your heart? Or heard a song that shook you to your core? Have you ever experienced something so profound it called attention to a personal issue you’d rather forget? Call me crazy, but I believe this is what good art is supposed to do — disturb us.

Photo credit: menteurmenteur

The other day, I overheard a conversation between two men sitting behind me at a local cafe. And frankly, it bothered me. Here’s what they said:

“They did a really dark play… The Glass Menagerie?”

“That one by Tennessee Williams?”

“Yeah, I guess. I dunno. It was really dark.”

My soul sank. I love that play. The guy who saw it proceeded to talk about how he didn’t “get” it, and the other concurred. Both didn’t like it because of how unsettled it made them feel after watching it.

But that’s the whole point.

Pardon me while I get on my soapbox, but I take issue with the idea that comfort should be a determining factor for what makes art “good.” Making you comfortable was never the intention.

Art tells us what’s wrong with the world

Some of us are not content with the status quo. We know something in this world has gone wrong. We sense this deep in our bones, in our heart of hearts, and it bothers us.

This discontent leads to a distrust of cliches and predictable plots. Those are not enough to describe the situation in which we find ourselves. We need something real, something that sparks our imagination and addresses unresolved conflicts.

I watched Midnight in Paris again the other night, and I noticed this line I hadn’t heard before:

Life is kind of unfulfilling.

That resonated with me. How true, I thought. Part of the artist’s job is to make sense of this, to describe the lack of fulfillment we all feel.

And what better way to narrate the journey of our souls than with words and paint splotches that speak to this dissatisfaction?

Good art is messy

When you create something that doesn’t acknowledge this fact — that life is Act 2, not Act 3 — your audience knows it. They can tell when you’re being disingenuous. It feels too clean, too literal. Our souls thirst for more.

We want broken and beautiful, real and raw. Sure, we want abundant life, but we know it comes at a cost. And when you don’t illustrate that cost well — with sacrifice and toil — we don’t believe the story.

Just as God formed the earth from chaos and babies are born amidst screams and blood, art emerges from the pain of a broken world.

If it doesn’t break your heart or cause you to ache a little, then it’s not art.

Sad, but true

There is an underlying sadness in all art. It’s because humanity is not whole, but should be. We recognize something is wrong and that we can’t fix it ourselves — at least, those of us who are paying attention.

That’s why I love Tennessee Williams. And Adele. Why I resonate with the ache of Mumford and Sons and the unsettled feeling after finishing an episode of Mad Men.

All these stories and songs are trying to teach us something: We are not done yet. What a beautiful mess this life is. Beautiful and broken and begging to be redeemed. And for those who are listening, this truth resonates.

If you create or consume art, I hope you recognize this truth. I hope you remember as you catalogue your own story. I hope you embrace the fact that you are a wonderful work in progress, but still fragmented at the core.

So here’s a challenge: Do something today to remind yourself of this. That you’re not finished. There’s still healing and wholeness to happen. It’s the difference between a message that rings hollow and one that hits home.

My questions:

• Does art have an underlying theme of sadness?

• Has art, your art or the art of another, ever inspired you to change for the better? If yes, how?

Share your comments below. Don’t be scared, I’d love to hear from you.