#30Cubed: Week One
Hello Friends,
The 3o day art challenge is well under way! Things are getting interesting on Instagram. So far, we’ve seen langurs lounging in gouache; type made from leaves; poems that sink into silence; ancient religious totems rendered in lipstick and makeup pencil; delightfully glitchy videos; experimental constructivist drawings (say that five times fast); and more.
For those of you who took up the challenge but chose to show your art on Medium, this is the first of four posts in which I’ll show my own work. To post your progress, simply write a response to this letter on Medium.
Down to business… Y’all. Creating a piece of art that will be published for all to see, in a mere 30 minutes, is hard. Really hard. Even with a well-baked theme, clear restrictions on media, and a modest 6" x 8" size, I’m batting around .500 when it comes to finishing each piece in 30 minutes or less. That’s right: I’m a hypocrite who’s having trouble following his own rules.
The problem isn’t that 30 minutes is an insufficient amount of time for this kind of work. For me, the issue is internal. Psychologists call it the superego. We all have one. It’s the inner voice that chatters from dawn till dusk, judges ourselves and others, delivers imaginary speeches in the shower, edits ideas before they’re fully formed, and gleefully throws fistfuls of rusty nails in front of our feet whenever we step out in faith.
The superego is only quiet when we’re present, completely open, and totally at home in the world. How often does that happen?
For most of my life, I believed that this voice was the real me. That it was my core, my soul. It helped me get by, after all. As I’ve learned about personality types, and the Enneagram system in particular (more on that some other time), I’ve discovered that the superego is a doppelgänger we create during childhood, in the early years when our personalities are still somewhat fluid. Over time, the personality and its attendant superego crystallize. It’s like watching concrete set. I’m witnessing this process in my own children, and it’s a strange thing to behold.
The superego is a tool that helps us cope with the world, but it isn’t our real self in the truest sense. It’s a crutch, created by personality — which in itself is a crutch as well. Our essence is much wider and deeper than personality. In fact, the center of who we are is boundless and eternal. Nobody can fully grasp this concept, and so the personality is born: a finite thing with edges, a tangible set of characteristics and views that helps us navigate life in a complex universe. It’s a map, a grid that we place over ourselves that shows where internal borders and external passages lie. An elaborate system of filters, fears, and desires that shapes everything we think, say, and do.
Just like we can’t kill our personalities, we can’t kill the superego, nor should we. We’re stuck with these things, at least for the duration of this life. Rather than fighting it, we have the opportunity to recognize the superego and see it for what it is. As we mature, we can train that voice and control its volume. We can even use it to our advantage.
For me, creating art in 30 minutes and publishing it for thousands to see has been an interesting experience. My superego has launched a quiet revolt. The compulsion I’ve had all my life is toward completion, wholeness, perfection. Nevermind that in sane moments, I fully realize that perfection is unattainable. This is why I run late or rush to meet a deadline: I’d rather be tardy than incomplete. It’s selfish, and sounds awful when I put it in writing.
Just for tomorrow, I’ve promised myself that I’ll stop drawing at 30 minutes. Whatever I have at that point is done, and it doesn’t matter if it’s any good. All that matters is that I showed up and made something.
So without further ado, here’s what I’ve made in the past seven days. As mentioned in my previous post, my theme is “borders,” and my medium is watercolor and ink drawings.
So there it is: one week down, three more to go. What have you created this week? I’d love to see your progress. If you’re stuck or bogged down, remember: the point of this exercise is to make, not to make perfect. Awkward and weird are far better than empty and blank.
Love to you,
Matt
