The Problem with "Know Your Why"

Do you share your art on social media? I've been showing my art online since 2001, first on my website, then on my blog, and then Facebook and Instagram. I've learned a lot about how to talk about my art because I have been talking about it for so many years.

If you've ever taken the effort to learn how to market your work, the first thing the experts will tell you is that, instead of talking about how it was made, you want to talk about your "why." Essentially, they suggest that if you communicate the purpose behind your art, it will resonate with people who share those values, and you'll have an audience of people who will connect with your work and want to own it.

Which sounds great, but for one problem.

How do you pinpoint your "why?"

What if my "why" is simply "I like to paint?"

Who's going to care about that?

Maybe there's more to "why" than what it seems.

Getting to the heart of why something matters is incredibly challenging. If we were good at that there would be less road rage, fewer arguments over silly things that were standing in for deeper issues, no more unexpected teary outbursts and the greeting card business wouldn't exist because we'd just know how to say all the meaningful things ourselves.

Start with a simple why.

Back when I first started blogging, I tried to choose a blog title that expressed what my paintings were all about. I decided on "Celebrating Simplicity" because I really just wanted to paint beautiful things and focus on what was good and lovely. I didn't have a more profound "why" than that.

Simple whys might be more impactful than we think.

Later I realized that "celebrating simplicity" held deeper significance than I had anticipated, because in a world where the pace can feel intense, and our society glorifies the hustle, to make art out of a calling to notice the simple beauty in the world is a way of disrupting toxic culture. Even though my why felt simple, there was something powerful in it.

Your why starts by changing you.

I thought simple beauty was my why, but as I wrote about my paintings, I started to see it carried more significance than I thought. Deeper still was the calling to presence; a kind of focus that lets go of agendas (will they like me, can I achieve my goals, will this all turn out okay) and control. The realization that I can't change my past and I can't predict or control the future (or how much future I get) makes it just that much more important to try to stay present in this moment.

And even deeper than that, is the realization that if I am choosing to be present in the moment, I need to make peace with my own existence as I am, right now. Constantly trying to excel and do better can be a way of living in scarcity; that who I am is just not good enough.

Finding my "why" has become a much deeper and richer process of identity and presence than I ever would have expected. Every brushstroke becomes a statement, "I am here, as this artist, today." I get to see my paintings as symbolic of the values that matter most to me and as I focus on in why painting feels so deeply personal, I learn to receive the gift my art offers to my own heart.

This is why your why matters. If it's changing you, that will be evident. It will make a difference.

So, why do you paint? What brings that sense of deep fulfilment in your creative practice? What kind of values do you want your art to reflect?

If making art brings meaning to your life, the ways in which it gets through to you will be the means it uses to connect with others who need those same things. Share it. Learn how to talk about it. Make the world a richer place by letting what you believe speak through your heart into your art, and trust that it moves outward into the world.