“Gimmick or Honest?”

In this third post of my blog series “Spiritual Painting and Technique”, I’m sharing with you the method I used to rehearse for my live Easter painting. First I’ll talk about the art, and then I’ll apply it to spirituality and faith. If you’ve not read the first two blog posts yet, you can catch up here: Post 1 “Give and Take Away“, Post 2 “From the Inside Out“

Normally I don’t practice my art before I paint. I don’t sketch things out or plan anything in great detail. I don’t want my art to become like a magic trick or a gimmick. With enough repetition, people can learn to copy the techniques of an original artist, much like singers can copy the style and songs of original artists to perform professional covers or amateur karaoke. Why would I turn my art into a gimmick that puts myself into the role of copying my own style?

Why not create something new and different with every blank canvas? Isn’t that more authentic, more honest, and more purposeful? Isn’t creating fresh art what separates arts from crafts? Would any fine restaurant serve a cake made from a boxed mix? I feel that my art should be made “from scratch”, not from a formula. And that’s usually how I paint.

However, what if my painting is meant to be done in under six minutes during a live setting on Easter morning? I gave this some thought and I realized that I needed to knock that chip off my shoulder about methods turning into gimmicks. What was more honest in this situation: honoring my commitment to a quality presentation by rehearsing my act, or stubbornly refusing to practice?

When I paint live it’s performance art and a form of public speaking. I can leave some of what I do to spontaneous response, but it’s disrespectful to show up unrehearsed when people have put their trust in me to deliver something of quality for a special event. So, for this event I rehearsed what I was going to do (see the dove images at the top of this blog post).

Fortunately, I only needed to paint the final element of the large painting, and I kept that element very simple (a dove with a basic shape), something that I could paint well within the time frame. This allowed me extra time for the unexpected to occur (starting later than my cue, dropping my paintbrush, a technical glitch with the music, distractions in the audience, etc.). If I finished quickly, I could always add a few extra brush strokes, but I knew it was unlikely that I’d not get it done within the six minutes if my element was simple.

And I was right, the dove was simple and I finished it early enough to add extra brush strokes. I wondered if I should paint a more complicated element next time, but then again, that could be a mistake if something unexpected happened in the live setting. It was a good idea to keep it simple and create a formula. I planned easy-to-memorize steps for how to paint the dove and then I rehearsed it to the music I would be painting to during the event. I made sure I got the timing down and had time leftover.

This turned out to be a good idea, since I did miss my cue when painting live. I expected my time lapse video to play ahead of my painting, but something else was played instead and I didn’t know when that would end. There was a slight pause between when I recognized my cue and when I started painting. But I had plenty of built-in time, and this was not a problem. It illustrates how important it is to be rehearsed.

(you can watch me paint this here)

Now it’s time for the part of the blog post when we look at my painting method as a spiritual metaphor. Are our lifestyle actions a gimmick or honest? When we engage with people do we parrot hallow greetings devoid of any sincerity, not expecting or wanting a real response? Do we call out “How are you” while not waiting for an answer? Are our exchanges with others a social gimmick?

Or, do we use formulaic phrases that are easy to memorize, steps we can rehearse, and things we can say in a short time frame (just like when I practiced the dove so that I could do it quickly under live conditions), so that we are prepared for a quality and special connection? Sometimes when we copy the social customs and polite exchanges it’s not a thoughtless social gimmick, but a rehearsal, an honest effort to engage with people in a productive, meaningful way.

The same can be said for studying our faith in a series of trained steps, copying what others have done, or setting our own routine that can easily be copied by others. Perhaps we read books, listen to music, go for a walk in nature, pray, go to church, attend community groups, or serve as a volunteer. These things could become a formula to teach others how to develop their faith, how to connect better to other people, and how to become closer to God.

Does this mean that practicing our faith is a gimmick? Well, I think it can be. It depends on the motive for doing it. We can copy the steps to become closer to God and never achieve it if our heart isn’t in it. Or, we can see our faith formula as a method for rehearsing, for practicing to be ready for a quality and special experience. It’s all about the honesty in our motivation.

In this world of so much dishonesty, theater, marketing, and full blown deception, it’s difficult not to feel discouraged, cynical, and depressed. What can help is to live honestly ourselves, choosing to be mindfully authentic. Maybe we bake a cake from scratch even though it would be quicker and easier to make a box mix, sing our own lyrics, or we paint something new without following a plan. When we greet someone, we go off the social script and say something unexpected. Whenever we put something real out there, we counter the fake.

The act of doing something real creates honesty. And for those times when it’s important to rehearse, honesty is in the motivation. Practicing what we preach is often as important as the preaching. People watch us when we don’t even realize it. The method matters, the rehearsal matters. Authenticity is a heart issue. It is less important what steps (if any) we follow, and more important our motive for doing so.