An artist carves out new territory with no preconceived notions about pleasing a public. Until the artist’s work is recognized by his audience, creating can make for tough times in the marketplace.

A hack (you know who you are) produces something he feels the public wants, which is inverse to the artist’s nature. Like Damocles, the hack works with the sword of a focus group dangling precariously overhead. A hack can have the potential to be a great artist; it is fear of exposing his true self that keeps him in the land of mediocre.

The true artist knows that a visceral reaction to his art is better than a lukewarm comment. I love it, or even I hate it is better than hearing: “Oh, it’s interesting.”

"There are no ‘plain facts’ in the history of art—or any history of anything else, for that matter; only degrees of plausibility.... Yet we sense that Gauguin, although he tried to share his experience [spirit], he remains an outsider; he could paint pictures about faith, but not from faith.”

—H.W. Hanson, History of Art

What’s all this about abstract art being modern?

Abstract art is as old as humankind. Look at prehistoric art, ancient art, art of the Middle Ages, art of the Renaissance, and you’ll find abstract art there as well.

The completed “abstract” piece is not abstract to the artist. After all, while abstract art may not be revealing external nature, it is revealing internal nature.

Knowing the difference is cumulative and adds up to what is called a distinction.

If you are perfecting some thing that you have made before, then it is craft—it is technique.

If you are making some thing that has never been made before, then it is creation—it is unique.

If you don’t know the distinction, then how can you properly present your work? The public is already in enough trouble when it comes to discerning art from craft.

There is plenty of room for excellence in both categories.

Remember, comparisons in art are traps.

The other night on the History Channel, yet another documentary about how the lives of Gauguin and Van Gogh crossed paths in the south of France. Vincent is portrayed as the needy and unbalanced artist. Paul is the egoist who portrays himself as Christ in some of his works.

Ultimately, their temperaments separate them.

Both men loved art first. Then, they taught themselves to be what they loved. And, as artists, they remained steadfast to their vision. Their lives are lessons—an open book for those who see the inner workings of the true artist. Take the best of what they had to offer and reconstitute it within your self.