Dipika Kohli
By Dipika Kohli
An artist might ask another artist, bluntly, What is the theme of your work? One day, at a particular plateau of your creative life, you will be able to tell them. (This is what I hear.) Directly, honestly, and clearly: there will be no wavering. You will not doubt yourself.
But getting to that place will take time. You will have written and rewritten countless drafts of the ‘bio’, or ‘artist statement’, and you will have wondered if maybe you should put more this or more that into it. But your gut will know where you are headed because you will have spent time on this question about finding out the theme of your work, the why of your creative output efforts. (A lot of time.)
Getting to this plateau upon which you have found your clarity of intent will undoubtedly mean you will have passed some crazy tests of your commitment to making. Earlier stages, that is, in which you come to understand both the bitter and sweet sides of the creative process, and similarly, those aspects of a lifelong effort to make more and better, as in more artful compositions.
A major one of these preceding stages, I believe, is experience. Meaning, simply having been through and observed a lot in the world and thereby accumulating many moments of ups and downs in life and also meeting enough people to see many sides of many stories. Self-awareness, you could call it, in a word.
From these moments, you will know more precisely, through trial-and-error learning, where you feel at ease and where you get stuck. I’m not suggesting taking the path of least resistance, or anything, just saying that I believe you will know yourself better if you’ve gone out and tried more than one job, say. Or internship. Or state. You know what I mean? We go around a little bit and we pick up things, sense things, and learn a lot more I think when we are out and about than if we opt to stay in one place.
Notably, apart from the naysayers that will (consciously or unconsciously) aim to discourage, there will be mentors. These folks will encourage and guide, and they will show you how to discover your own way. Specifically, to find your ‘why.’ Why do you want to say something with your chosen medium of art? Of course, you will need to experiment, and a lot. There are no guarantees, either, of getting the answers. Besides that, in a productivity-obsessed culture, it takes a great deal of mental energy to separate the thing you do for everyday earnings from the search for why which will inform the what you wish to make with art.
‘Play with it,’ the best leaders, friends, and guides will say. ‘Keep going with that,’ they’ll share, in the way of feedback. It’s good to have them in your corner. It’s a kind of stage, too, one in which we get to know who is rooting for us (and who is not). We all have creativity and the capacity to make cool things. You don’t need external validations to start trying small experiments and seeing what works. It’s a remarkable, iterative process. It fuels itself when the momentum is good. It’s good when you know what you’re trying to do, which means, naturally, blocking time and getting to know yourself, and, as such, getting closer to the you of you. It takes real commitment, and effort, but it’s important, for the art to come. The art that will land with people who are ready to receive it.
Why? You will have learned where your strengths lie, and you will have developed a capacity to say ‘yes’ and to equally know when to say ‘no.’ Is this moving me towards my goal? Does it check with my why? Is it going to be dramatic, draining, exhausting, fulfilling, extraordinary, painful, bright, disparaging, or curious? In short, Is this in my best interests? Does it grow me, or diminish my attempts to grow?
Nothing is for sure, but your gut instincts are going to be there when everything else is confusing. The gut knows; it’s been there while you’ve gone through the stages of discerning, discovering, and designing the intention and determining the kind of art you want to leave in this world. Speaking of which, then, there’s the final stage. Sharing it. If you’re lucky, people will tell you why they connect with it. Learn something from that; don’t pander, just let it come back after you let go of your work. We who are curious, are open, are waiting, and are ready, are here in the audience you will meet, to greet your art. And you: the you that knows you and knows why you choose to make. See you there.
Dipika Kohli is an author who is based in Phnom Penh. Discover her books at kismuth.com and other projects at dipikakohli.com.
