An excerpt from a letter from Vincent van Gogh to his brother, Theo van Gogh, February, 13, 1882. Vincent counted on financial support from his brother.

I do not care so much about that “taking my part,” but I must say that sometimes I cannot bear Tersteeg’s (he initially encouraged Vincent’s life as an artist, but later on did not think much of Vincent’s eccentric attitude to life) saying to me over and over again, “You must begin to think about earning your own living.” I think it is such a dreadful expression, and then it is all I can do to keep calm. I work as hard as I can and do not spare myself, so I deserve my bread, and they ought not to reproach me with not having been able to sell anything up to now.

While Vincent felt he deserved his bread, we can finesse his thought to this: he “earned” his bread—which is more likely what he had in mind.

All art isn’t from the soul. This isn’t a point of separation or a comparison; it is a distinction that each artist must make for her own self. If you don’t know where you stand, then you can be assured others will make that choice for you. The artist who creates art for art’s sake paints an indelible line in the sand. She remains steadfast and unadulterated by the temperamental winds of taste, social conditioning, or cultural pressures to conform.

While this artist may be politically active, or not, she is never complacent. Her art can’t be co-opted or unsettled by the nonsense or agenda concocted by others. She uses her work for whatever reasons she desires; as long as it is her decision, her work remains pure—and that is the mission, which includes earning a living and staying healthy.

She is the vanguard. 

Here’s a snippet from the pr release for An Artist Empowered:

From the Mean Streets to Self-Realization
Find Your Walking Shoes

A sage from India sets the stage: “Wanting to reform the world without discovering your true self is like trying to cover the whole world with leather to avoid the pain of walking on stones and thorns. It is simpler to wear shoes.” If the artist doesnt understand the mission parameters, then anxiety and fear reign, or worse—the artist abandons the dream.

Eden Maxwell (painter, writer, and kiteflier of some note) grew up in the hood of the inner city and fought his way out of the projects to find his walking shoes; he recalls:

“Many years ago, with no net, guarantees, or a rich uncle, I gave up the ‘security’ of a promising Fortune 500 fast track position, health insurance, stock option plans, weekend brunches, and a doorman for an unpredictable life of what seemed at the time insurmountable obstacles. My intuition, not a muse, had been whispering the mantra: go for it some day something of value will come. Like the main character in the book Shoeless Joe by W.P. Kinsella (adapted into the film Field of Dreams), I had also bet the ‘farm’ on a disembodied voice only I could hear. Those close to me thought I was making a huge career mistake. If you don’t have faith in your own dream, then what’s the point?”

It can all too easily be taken for granted that we have memory, the astounding ability to record our time in this incarnation; as there is a purpose for all creation, memories of a life, too, eventually transcend and merge into the sea of consciousness according to the purpose of the Maker.

Let’s recall the words of Dr. Seuss:

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

To anyone caught up in the maya of the world, art might seem to be an extracurricular activity, a day’s outing to galleries or a museum, if not altogether an irrelevant topic.

The genuine creation and appreciation of art represent an evolutionary birth in the deep gene pool of grounded awareness. Art is wealth precisely because it born free from the mundane and the tyranny of the masses. To get my meaning, both artist and art viewer must prove the value of this reality to themselves.

A tribe, society, or civilization focused on the exploration of unbridled art will by definition live in relative harmony with themselves and their environment.

Now that’s what I call a plan.