What a timely letter this was for me! I have been struggling with what is my voice. What do I really want to paint and how do I want to present it? Being in galleries and competitions is great, but it does something to the artist. Sometimes we are no longer just painting for the fun of discovery as you mention above.

The last week or two I have been doing just that. Seeing what comes out. I believe the way you presented it above is just the right answer. Just do something without knowing the outcome. Be ready for what the painting is telling me to do. This is what I am trying to do these days. I know I love the landscape and nature, but what is it I want to give? Complexity or simplicity?

So many artists are bombarded by "keep it simple." When I look at nature, I am drawn to the more complicated scene many times. Then again when I look at art, I am drawn to the simple scenes. How do you meld the two likes? Paint a complicated scene and try to simplify it? Very difficult indeed. I've been told to blindfold myself and see what comes out. Heck I might miss the canvas.

Thank you for discussing the question of voice. Very relevant for me.

After all these years, my painting seems to be sorting itself into thematic series. I didn't set out to do it that way; just noticed that the last paintings seem to be like a series of books on 3 or 4 different themes. I guess it has to do with what's lurking in the back of your brain.
My technique hasn't radically changed; maybe when you get older you're less concerned about what other people think of you and more confident in yourself. That's one of the few things about aging that gets easier! The aches and wrinkles I could do without.

One thing I think is very important which you didn't mention specifically is Courage. I think one needs courage in order to find one's voice. Without it, it's too easy to sound like someone else, or to give up. And sometimes you need courage to keep going in spite of the fact that you know you are not speaking in your own voice yet.

I have been discovering my voice over the past year or so, and have learned something important - when you speak in a generic voice, many people can understand you. Once you find your own voice, you may very well lose much of your original audience, who no longer are able (or want) to hear you. But I believe that being true to your voice is more important than giving people what they want (or are able to) hear.

Pat, I agree with you. I found that I was allowing myself to be too much influenced by what was in the galleries I am in or aspire too. By and large, not the kind of stuff that inspires me, but does sell to the tourist trade. Our area has not yet cottoned to the fact that they need to find ways to connect with collecters if they want to sell anything but appealing landscapes and carriable crafts. I decided to take a year and study painting. For me, that involves not so much trying to find a voice, but letting myself explore until what I am doing FEELS right. The more I paint, the further away I get from what is usual in these parts, and the closer I get to something I was just achieving as a younger painter. So maybe, given my age as a re-emerging artist, I won't appeal to the market available to me. Or, maybe, as I come to better express what is in me, I will. It doesn't matter much to me right now. Maybe next year it will, but I'll wait to find out.

What a waste of time to discuss "Finding a voice" as a visual artist .
As we learn to understand what attracts our vision our art has to speak for itself. The curious mind of an artist will always explore a new image as an adventure. The trend to claim an artist must have a voice is misleading. True, artists might need "a voice" in the political arena to function as a group.

Your artistic voice is what your work speaks to you…sometimes it’s okay to let others listen in.

Yes, and there's the voice that makes you strive for "one better" each time you paint. Who said, "For a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?"

Understanding creativity - what it is, how it operates - is a subject fascinating to me. I am not a visual artist but my passion in my retirement is to make the words and deeds of my forebears accessible to my grandchildren. I produce family books. I don't call it writing, because if is more finding, assembling and editing. Now I have a term for the creative element of what I do, long denied by myself as being creative.

It is - finding my voice.

The very day I needed this it showed up. You are a treasure. As the great guru Satchidananda says, "Truth is one, Paths are many". Enjoy your island!

I think that just hoping something essential will develop in your work is a low percentage possibility, though it could happen. I like to get my students working on this from the beginning. Putting one's thoughts, interests, values to paper, as you do twice a week is very predictable. Probably sooner than later, your train will come in. The issues you are passionate about will emerge and then you will have a compass to locate a way of advancing those passions. In your case it sounds like the writing has nearly overtaken the image making. No matter, you have found your bliss, or at least, a part of it.

Once again you have told us many things we may not have discovered for ourselves. Your thoughts on voice are very interesting and ring true. As I recall my earlier days to paint I see myself as not having a clue about how to say anything with the work. As you have said, we gather our ideas and ideals during the journey. I just wish we did not have to age so fast in order to find our inner voice and learn our craft. Many thanks for putting these parts of the puzzle together. I agree our humanness can never be searched enough for us to see the complete picture.

"6 up" Drinking my tea when I read that. I like how you pop these unexpected laughs in. Please keep writing. Your letter fits in with my study of The Law of Attraction, that may have been around awhile but I just found it. I paint in watercolors and I appreciate motivators for the colors of my world.

My problem has always been that what ever medium I work in each one has it's own style. I have not achieved my 'own voice'. Where I have found it is in teaching. I enjoy teaching children. To take them from those rough sketches of weird faces and oblong trees to a drawing or painting that they can be proud of. Because I have different techniques in all mediums they are not tied down to 'my style'. So my voice is my students who hopefully will take art into adulthood with passion.

Renfrew, Ontario

Robert, in comment to your reader's question about finding our own voice, I like the following poem by Irish Poet Philosopher David Whyte (currently living in Washington State somewhere). His book "The Three Marriages" dives into the relationships between our work, our relationships with others and the relationship with ourselves. Excellent reading. Everything is Waiting for You. Even your own death...

Everything is Waiting for You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
-- David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You

Being a singer as well as one struggling to find my voice with a pencil, I was doubly intrigued by the title of this letter.

I’ve long been flummoxed by what makes my work individual, and therefore worth doing, much less worth making an official statement about. There are plenty who seem to have found their voices and are doing work that is, if not unique in technique, then certainly unique in style, subject or the presentation of that subject. They just do some little extra thing that makes the viewer stop and say, “Woah… what’s this?”

Good art does more than copy from life (or imagination); it enhances the subject, makes it more than the sum of its parts. It has life of its own. So how do I “speak” in a way that’s not just a copy (musically or on paper with graphite)? I suppose the answer lies in the doing, as you suggest, and just listening. Over time, it’s sure to become apparent, probably after I’ve stopped listening for it, as though it was there all the time.

Most of my artist friends concerns and topics of conversation center around shows and sales. That is why your words are so valuable to me and I'm grateful that somehow I found you.

This was beautiful. You, after all those years asking yourself these questions is the most inspiring thing. The powerful, brave, loving, and humble ego-force is what gives me my voice. Fear and doubt are its enemies. That may not make sense to many people, but I think it does to you.

This article resonates deeply with me as I’m still trying to find my voice. I dare not label myself as an artist as there are an abundance of talents out there. Furthermore, I haven’t been trained by Rembrandt for 12 years before I’m allowed to even apply paint on the canvas.

Voice can also mean singing. I have been in a school choir since the age of 5 till 16. I still remember the discipline that was instilled in us, the stamina, the poise, the technique to project your voice, how to carry the melody plus facial expression to connect with your audience. Don’t they sound familiar with visual artists too? The tools (paint and brush) are constant. But the discipline has to be there, the technique has to be learned, the creativity process in the interpretation of what we capture visually has to connect with our viewers.

If, by "voice" you mean "style", I don't think you can determine a style ahead of time. It happens in hindsight. I work in fiber, and was so envious of artists who had a "style" that was recognizable. I wondered how they accomplished that, as I wanted to have a style, too. I never found one - at least, not until looking at an exhibit of my own work. I was stunned - bedammed if I didn't have a style. I just never knew it until after the fact.

Kris ... It was Robert Browning said that. I have lately learned to use google to type in well known lines when I can't recall the author ... (too often these days) ... it finds the famous poets etc. instantly. Ain't hi tech wonderful. As an old English major I am fond of attributing quotes where possible for the same reasons artists sign their work.

The loss of galleries may permit us to return to our lost voice.

The power of vision will open the necessary doors for us. Finding your voice is like looking for a third arm to do the work for us. let your audience be the judge if it is a good thing or bad.

I tried on a few voices the way one would try on clothes. Some were flattering/comfortable, some voices elicited enthusiastic responses, or looks of puzzled confusion; The sound of my voice is sweet in the moment, then yearning, insistent, contrived, overworked, agitated, peacefully boring, all wrong, just right... - later on, my throat aching, ears burning, I replay the tape and hear only silence. I learned that voices are not found by planning but could be heard singing softly in the next room when least expected. Abandoning the search and taking pleasure in exploration, dancing in the studio, using any art supplies regardless of age or state of mind, painting an idea, painting anyway, it adds up over the years, mistakes and miss-takes. I discovered I can't sing or draw a stick figure, but I never let that stop me!
I'm in love with acrylics all over again, says my voice.
South Pasadena

Whoops! Am I Terry Fator?

It seems like my voice is constantly changing; whether it is getting higher or lower, I'm not sure. What I do know is the hours in the studio, absorbed not in looking at other work, or learning from other people, but focusing on my own mental notes about painting, and how I want my paintings to look, are what is shaping that voice. I cannot see the difference from day to day, but certainly from year to year, I've unknowingly carved out a new path out of my old way of seeing.

It's so easy to confuse voice with agenda. I think many artists make that miscalculation. A cause may be good to have, but trying to send its message can drown out your true one. Unlike a cause or an agenda, I think an artist's real message is almost impossible to define with words. But when one's painting begins to dictate what should be done next and how it should be painted, then perhaps it's your voice speaking and you should listen.

Nashville, TN

Communication through visual arts is not an exact science because the viewer may misinterpret what the artist is trying to convey. We have no control over the observer’s experience, only our personal intent. I can paint a piece to shout my opinion or I can simply paint a scene that pleases me.
Funny thing about conversation: sometimes we contribute a comment or two, other times we listen. Sometimes we find others listening carefully to us. A few times our voice must be raised to be heard above the din of noise. With all that, conversation is a group enterprise.
My voice is in writing and not necessarily in my painting – there are too many variables, whereas I can communicate clearly with the written word.
Not every painting needs to “voice” anything.

In literature, “voice” means the distinctive style of the author or the narrator, he or she telling the story. We can recognize immediately a Jane Austen, an Ernest Hemingway or Garrison Keillor.

Transferred to art, I understand it to mean the distinctive style of the artist, which carries across subject matter and media. It may have to do with choice of colours, brush work or any other elements of design or execution. It is the family resemblance of the overall works. The artist may, of course, change his/her voice at any time.

I have learned so much from reading these letters, and I am encouraged to add my two cents. When I first began painting I would have a preconceived notion of what I wanted it to look like, I even had drawings ready. As the painting progressed it mysteriously changed from the original plan. This continues with every painting. It's not my voice that's doing that ... it's the voice of our Source, the creator of every wonder around us, seeping into our brains, ready to access magically when the time is right. Others may find their voices through lessons and practice - I find mine just by listening to someone else's and recognizing it as the gift it is. And being thankful every day.

I wanted to suggest something to Gail Hersey and her fear. Please check my website www.innerfreedomoutwardsuccess.com. While you don't really rid yourself of fear, we help you clear away the emotional blockages that keep you from going forward and thus fear isn't as big a thing because now you have new confidence. It's amazing and all the work can be done at a distance. Thank you for allowing me to make this offering and to all the terrific art and comments I get to experience through this wonderful newsletter.

Always find the comments from your readers so helpful. For three months of the year, my 'force' seems to be in the Atlantic coast when I am on holidays. Being near the ocean seems to open the 'floodgates' and on any given day, I seem able to 'jump' in and do things that seem impossible the rest of the year. I've tried to bring back the 'magic' , but it seems, ocean, sand, boats, lobster succeed in unlocking those barriers. 'Fear' seems to dissappear! No doubt others have similar experiences, but I found it important to share mine.