Reflections on the starving artist
Personally, speaking as an artist, I am not fond of starving. Starving is hardly conducive to the act of creating art – any more than it is to any other kind of activity. A rumbling belly, a weak body, a brain crying out for nourishment – these all tend to impede the creative flow. Past poverty may inspire some artists, but present poverty leaves little time for creation – the work needed to survive is too hard and time-consuming. Few artists would starve by choice, though some have been unfortunate enough to find themselves living in poverty and starvation. A few have even starved to death – thus effectively ending all artistic endeavor. Not a pleasant thought.
It’s true that starving for your art seems to increase your appeal to the world at large. It is seen as a sign of your commitment to that wondrous realm, a proof that you will do anything to bring forth that masterpiece that dwells within you. Unfortunately, the romantic picture of the artist starving in the service of his or her art, buying what they need to produce their great works while allowing their body to waste away, that works best as fiction – certainly as far as artists are concerned. There are limits to how far anyone wishes to go to convince others of the seriousness of their intent and the worth of their work. Which is why so many artists do what they can to live comfortably, even if it means time taken away from working with paint or clay or metal or wood – or whatever the chosen medium through which they express themselves. Anything from paying jobs to shameless self-promotion – so long as it brings in sufficient funds to keep body and soul together and working and helps provide the space and tools needed to work.
