NOTE: This newsletter might be cut short by your email program. [View it in full](. Â If a friend forwarded it to you and you'd like your very own newsletter, [subscribe here]( â it's free. Â Need to modify your subscription? You can [change your email address]( or [unsubscribe](. [The Marginalian]( [Welcome] Hello {NAME}! This is the midweek edition of [The Marginalian]( by Maria Popova â one piece resurfaced from the sixteen-year archive as timeless uplift for heart, mind, and spirit. If you missed last week's archival resurrection â Ursula K. Le Guin on creativity, storytelling, and the power of language to transform and redeem â you can catch up [right here](. And if my labor of love enriches your life in any way, please consider supporting it with a [donation]( â it remains free and ad-free and alive thanks to reader patronage. If you already donate: I appreciate you more than you know. [Georgia OâKeeffe on Success, Public Opinion, and What It Means to Be an Artist, in a Letter to Sherwood Anderson]( OâKeeffe (November 15, 1887âMarch 6, 1986), celebrated as Americaâs first great female artist, was a woman of strong opinions on [art, life, and setting priorities]( and an uncommon gift for [committing to words]( what she committed to canvas. But some of her most revelatory insights on art and the creative experience were shared in a series of letters to writer Sherwood Anderson, who had befriended legendary photographer Alfred Stieglitz â OâKeeffeâs husband and her correspondent in volumes of [passionate love letters](. Encountering OâKeeffeâs art in the early 1920s had inspired Anderson to pick up the paintbrush for the first time and begin painting himself. Meanwhile, the two developed an epistolary fellowship around their shared ideas about art and their amicable intellectual disagreements. (Only three years later, Anderson would come to articulate his own [unforgettable wisdom on art]( in a letter to his son, very likely influenced by OâKeeffe and their creative rapport.) Found in [Georgia OâKeeffe: Art and Letters]( ([public library]( â an altogether unputdownable out-of-print volume released in 1987, a year after OâKeeffeâs death, to mark her centennial â the letters stand as a sublime paean to the kind of creative integrity that rises above public opinion and blazes with crystalline clarity of conviction. At the same time, one canât help but wonder how OâKeeffeâs art â how her sanity â might have suffered had she lived in our present era of perpetual sprinting on the social-media hamster wheel of public opinion. Georgia OâKeeffe by Alfred Stieglitz, 1918 On August 1, 1923, she writes to Anderson: This morning I saw an envelope on the table Stieglitz addressed to youâIâve wanted so often to write youâtwo things in particular to tell youâbut I do not writeâI do not write to anyoneâmaybe I do not like telling myself to peopleâand writing means that. First I wanted to tell youâway back in the winter that I liked your âMany Marriagesââand that what others have said about it amused me muchâI realize when I hear others speak of it that I do not seem to read the way they doâI seem toâlikeâor discardâfor no particular reason excepting that it is inevitable at the moment.âAt the time I read it I saw no particular reason why I should write you that I liked itâbecause I do not consider my likingâor disliking of any particular consequence to anyone but myselfâAnd knowing you were trying to work I felt that opinions on what was past for you would probably be like just so much rubbishâin your way for the clear thing aheadâAnd when I think of youâI think of you rather oftenâit is always with the wishâa real wishâthat the work is going wellâthat nothing interferes â I think of you often because the few times you came to us were fineâlike fine days in the mountainsâfine to rememberâclear sparkling and lots of airâfine air. After a characteristically evocative note about Stieglitzâs health that spring had rendered him âjust a little heap of miseryâsleeplessâwith eyesâearsânoseâarmâfeetâanklesâintestinesâall taking their turn at deviling him,â OâKeeffe expresses deep gratitude for the very thing that led Virginia Woolf to term letter writing [âthe humane artâ]( soul-salving power of a letter sent by one human being to another: You can see why I appreciated your lettersâmaybe more than he didâbecause of what they gave himâI donât remember now what you wroteâI only remember that they made me feel that you feel something of what I know he isâthat it means much to you in your lifeâadds much to your lifeâand a real love for him seemed to have grown from it And in his misery he was very sadâand I guess I had grown pretty sad and forlorn feeling tooâso your voice was kind to hear out of faraway and I want to tell you that it meant muchâThanks Aware of misfortuneâs one-way mirror of hindsight, she adds, âI can only write you this now because things are better.â âThe Lawrence Treeâ by Georgia OâKeeffe, 1929 OâKeeffe and Anderson continue their correspondence and in another letter sent a month later, she defies her self-professed distaste for âtelling [herself] to peopleâ and instead divulging â with the exhilarating intensity of expression that both her art and her [letters to loved ones]( emanate â a magnificent glimpse of her inner life and creative spirit. She considers [the role of form]( in art and the experience from which art stems: I feel that a real living form is the result of the individualâs effort to create the living thing out of the adventure of his spirit into the unknownâwhere it has experienced somethingâfelt somethingâit has not understoodâand from that experience comes the desire to make the unknownâknown. By unknownâI mean the thing that means so much to the person that wants to put it downâclarify something he feels but does not clearly understandâsometimes he partially knows whyâsometimes he doesnâtâsometimes it is all working in the darkâbut a working that must be doneâMaking the unknownâknownâin terms of oneâs medium is all-absorbingâif you stop to think of the formâas form you are lostâThe artistâs form must be inevitableâYou mustnât even think you wonât succeedâWhether you succeed or not is irrelevantâthere is no such thing. Making your unknown known is the important thingâand keeping the unknown always beyond youâcatching crystallizing your simpler clearer version of lifeâonly to see it turn stale compared to what you vaguely feel aheadâthat you must always keep working to graspâthe form must take care of its self if you can keep your vision clear. In a remark of extraordinary humility and wisdom, especially in the hindsight of both OâKeeffeâs present status in the canon of art and Andersonâs in that of literature, she considers the feebleness of any present metric of success against a creatorâs ultimate significance for posterity: You and I donât know whether our vision is clear in relation to our time or notâNo matter what failure or success we may haveâwe will not knowâBut we can keep our integrityâaccording to our own sense of balance with the world and that creates our formâ In a sentiment that calls to mind Maurice Sendakâs famous dissent with a common classification of his work â [âI donât write for children. I write â and somebody says, âThatâs for children!ââ]( â OâKeeffe adds: What others have called form has nothing to do with our formâI want to create my own and I canât do anything elseâif I stop to think of what othersâauthorities or the publicâor anyoneâwould say of my form Iâd not be able to do anything. I can never show what I am working on without being stoppedâwhether it is liked or disliked I am affected in the same wayâsort of paralyzedâ. All of [Georgia OâKeeffe: Art and Letters]( is a treat for eye and spirit alike. Complement this particular bit with Anna Deavere Smith on [how to stop letting others define us]( and Rilke on why [external interference in the artistâs private experience poisons the art](. [Forward to a friend]( Online]( [Like on Facebook]( donating=loving
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KINDRED READINGS: [Georgia O'Keeffe on the Art of Seeing]( * * * [How to Keep Criticism from Sinking Your Soul: Walt Whitman and the Discipline of Creative Confidence]( * * * [Egon Schiele on What It Means to Be an Artist and Why Visionaries Always Come from the Minority]( * * * [The Doom and Glory of Knowing Who You Are: James {NAME} on the Empathic Rewards of Reading and What It Means to Be an Artist]( * * * [---]( You're receiving this email because you subscribed on TheMarginalian.org (formerly BrainPickings.org). This weekly newsletter comes out each Wednesday and offers a hand-picked piece worth revisiting from my 15-year archive.
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