If you are going to be an artist, there are a number of tools you’ll need. Your kit should include the basics of your art form: if you are a painter—of any sort—it might be helpful if you’ve learned to draw. Picasso couldn’t draw, you say? Look at his early works and you’ll find that he could draw accurately and with great style. His expression, his view of art changed making drawing ability secondary, but it existed initially. You have to be able to center clay before you can throw a pot. While a mastery of spelling and grammar are not, strictly speaking, essential for a writer—your editor will fix them if you don’t—it’s not a bad idea to learn the rules. These are the things that are most often discussed when we explain about art. It’s what we talk about as artists. It’s what we share among ourselves when the audience isn’t around. It’s the secret cult we enjoy: being one of those that are truly, inexhaustively, among those who must create and enjoy artistic creation.
I would not be the first to tell you that an artist must deal effectively with disappointment. Saying that one must be patient is almost a cliché. We all know that Van Gough never sold anything except to his friends who took pity on him. And, we all know that we don’t want to be like him. So, we go to the next gallery, the next exhibition, the next wine fest, work in hand, set up the easel, arrange the painting for sale and hope for the best. At the end of the day when none of the gawkers have had enough sense to see a masterpiece that’s been stuck in front of their eyes, you pack up your works and say those magic words, “Better next time.” For those of us in the film business, we plan out how we are going to get the next story produced, or if we’ve produced it, the way in which it will be distributed, hoping that you’ll spend ten or fifteen dollars to view our work. I suppose that Steven Spielberg no longer has to worry if you’ll come but I suspect that the dark thoughts that you might not cross his mind now and then.
So, why this topic now? Why visit a topic entitled “The Unforeseen?” On Monday, we were enjoying a particularly productive meeting on Call Waiting, readying for the casting process, discussing what our characters looked like, who they were, anticipating the receipt of headshots and resumes from actors looking to appear in the film. On Friday, Wilson called one of our team to tell him that we’d finished a bit of the work necessary to produce the film and learned that he was ill with an uncertain prognosis. Out of respect for privacy, I will not discuss anything more about the specifics except to say that the individual is our friend as well as our colleague.
Disappointment with artistic effort is a given. Most of us feel that anything we do can be done better. Disappointment with fickle audience is part and parcel of art. Crisis with time and timing is the canvas upon which we work.
What do I feel about the news? In all honesty, anger. I’m pissed at the gods. Why does fate ever hit the deserving? Of course I’m hopeful, but, I must confess, I’m extremely angry—not about the film in progress—but about the arbitrary nature of the world we live in. I know I’m not alone. You’ve felt the same thing about someone you care about. It does underline one thing however. Life is indeed uncertain which is all the more reason to take the risk of being an artist.