The phrases "I will be a famous writer," "I want to paint like Frida," or even "I will be the industry leader" are perilous since they imply self-rejection. You might believe that you are merely attempting to improve yourself and hone your skills. In reality, you are just a copycat. Because what is being perfected is more of the stand-in and less of the actual you. You can put your hair in braids and dress like me in peasant skirts, and you can paint fantastical pictures of the tragedies of life, but you will only look like a dime store copy of someone famous. The reason for this is that you failed to draw inspiration from your own individualistic imagination. You created using the inspiration of another artist, not your own. Until you give the world an original gift, you cannot claim to be an artist.
Initially, your talent may be of poor quality. You may not earn any awards or recognition. If this is the case, you have two options: continue practicing until your voice becomes distinct to you and others, or settle for second best. There is only one first place, isn't that correct? Only one person may be the original. Therefore, if you want to be the best, find out what you have to say. When said, there will only be one unique perspective, allowing you to be the best at what you do. When you duplicate someone, no matter how much you respect their brilliance, you can never say with pride and conviction, "This is an original," and you will always be second best. Staying true to your own voice and vision is essential to honoring your life's story because any product reflects the creator's journey in some manner. All work reflects the originator's thoughts and feelings. An original is determined by its origin. Allow your work to reflect you in some way. If not, you've lost the one genuine piece of life that should be sewn into it.
Because the ideas and emotions I conveyed through my paintings were entirely original, I have been referred to as original. Had my style been a knockoff of Picasso's, a chunky, mismatched brilliance, the observer would have said, "It looks like one of Picassos." They couldn't say that, though, because mine looked just like me. Critics actually couldn't agree on how to categorize my work. I didn't like that they were referring to my works as this or that. "Why can't they be just what they are: Fridas?" I asked myself. However, people are eager to categorize things because it makes it easier for critics and sellers. I still say my style was not surreal; my style was my own.
My work did not fit neatly into the definition of a surreal depiction, which is a representation of a central notion or idea through the use of indirect themes. For example, in "The Two Fridas," a heart connects both Fridas, symbolizing the sense of duality that I experience internally. In reality, there were not two of me sharing the same heart. However, the heart served as an indirect theme for expressing my deepest emotions. Stylized subjects appeared repeatedly in my work, such as Diego's face on my forehead. I was the only one to portray myself as a peasant in both art and life. I was the only one to illustrate the facial hair. These met the criterion of surreal, while many other paintings did not. My art was more characterized by its originality than by its bizarre components. "Frida" was proclaimed in each piece so that a person who had never seen my paintings before might recognize them. Despite the diversity of subjects, my style—the "me" that was poured into it—was indisputable.
A categorization or title shouldn't adequately capture your art; your style should. With a label like "this" or "that," you can sell it. However, don't make the error of being so commercialized that you neglect your personal signature. What makes you "you" should be evident in your work, which should reflect your soul. The difficulty is that most people don't know who they are, so they cannot define it sufficiently in their work. You may be familiar with the many roles you play, such as parent, spouse, employer, or boss. This does not imply that you are familiar with your spiritual self, which is your inspiration. How can you produce if you are not in touch with that aspect of yourself? It is the source of creativity. Be alone if you want to be an artist, for solitude and introspection reveal the truth. Without truth, there is no art. Art is really about expressing one's truth. The artist may be expressing the truth about themselves, their lives, or society, but art never lies.
Art is like the confession you get after an injection of truth serum; it comes from the subconscious mind, which does not lie. The subconscious records reality and plays it back in dreams, disguised as characters and settings that we mistake for something different. It conceals itself while always telling the truth about what it has recorded. The subconscious is the driving force behind all artistic interpretations. Because of the world's noise and activity, only silent reflection stimulates the subconscious to express itself. Allow your spirit to extend out and listen for its message. The message might be in the shape of images or words, music or recollections, or nameless feelings. When they surface, there will be a sense of urgency and significance, and these concepts serve as messengers. Like Mercury's winged feet, they will push on you until you are forced to take up your paintbrush, sketchpad, or computer.
Original ideas do not need to be bent into the shape of another artist. It's only because you haven't spent enough time honing your trade that you might not think your artistic voice is worth hearing. Realize that your message is crucial because it has to be heard by someone. We need your voice. Continue to forge your own route. If you persevere, you will eventually discover that you are an original as well.
With Love,
Frida