For most artists, I suppose, this drive is something that we simply cannot ignore and our happiest hours are often those spent in our studios doing “what we do.”
But, what if something happens that threatens “what we do?” Case in point – ME. In August, 2012 I was happily working along cutting our parts for my psalteries on my table saw as I had done so very many times before when suddenly (and don’t ask me how because it happened so fast that I really don’t know) the back of my right hand bumped the 10 inch, 40 tooth carbide steel blade that was spinning at 1725 rpm. (Do NOT Try this at HOME. It is NOT Recommended). Three fingers were cut off through the knuckle and the little finger was just chewed up. I say “cut off” but the blade cut through the knuckles and the fingers were dangling by strips of flesh.
The surgeon was a miracle worker and worked all night trying to get my hand put back together. (I was concerned that he was working so late because I was afraid that his mother would not let him stay out that late.) The end result was that he could not save the middle finger and took it off at the hand. On the index and ring fingers he cleaned out where the knuckles had been and reattached them by fusing the bones together with metal strips and screws to hold them together until the bones grew together. The little finger he sewed up and put in a splint.
This fixed up my hand, but did not “fix” my drive to create. What to do? My middle finger was gone and the index and ring fingers would no longer bend. (Initially I was fearful that I would no longer be able to communicate forcible with my right hand, until I realized that I could raise my right hand and tell people to “read between the lines”.)
How was I going to “feed” that drive with a screwed up (literally) hand? Enter the unbelievably remarkable and resourceful brain. If you are determined to do something, the brain will figure out how to do it in 95+% of the cases. So I was able to figure out how to make my instruments – albeit somewhat slower and with less efficiency than before, but I COULD do it including the delicate inlaying process. (To this day, the most difficult thing for me to do is to button my shirt because my fingers will not bend. Isn’t it wonderful, under the circumstances, that the thing that is most difficult for me to do is so trivial?)
Ok, I am back feeding that creative drive although slower than before when I encounter another threat to the “care and feeding” of my creative drive. I have had lower back problems since I was young, as had my father. In July, 2014, I had my fourth – and most serious – back surgery in which the surgeons fused five vertebra in my lower back with metal rods and screws. (Once again have I been screwed.)
This time recovery is going to be longer because of the trauma to the body with the seriousness of the surgery which is now exacerbated by age – 70 then, 72 now. At this age one simply does not heal as quickly and I was in pain – sometimes better, sometimes worse but –thank goodness- controllable by medication for about a year. The pain for this long has the tendency to “take the wind out of your sails” and I have had to cut back seriously on the number of shows that I am able to do, to say nothing of being able to “scratch that creative itch.”
As I was recuperating, reality reared its ugly head and “smote me about the head and shoulders” with the true realization that I would not be able to do this forever. While I did recognize this as truth, it was a bitter pill to my ego. This is something that everyone must “come to grips with” but, it seems to me that artists would be particularly sensitive to this as it directly threatens their ability to feed the creative drive. Those whose creative work requires less physical activity will not be forced to deal with this “multi-headed monster” as soon as those of us who have a more demanding physical activity involved in our creative process. However, the time will come to all of my generation of “senior artists”- some sooner and some later, but it WILL come.
The question now becomes, how will we deal with, not only our diminishing physical abilities but our ability to feed the creative drive? We will miss our long-held friendships with friends on the art fair “circuit”. Thank goodness for email! It will be hard to let go of our show canopy and supplies, to say nothing of the faithful van that has carried us so very many miles and of which we have so many memories.
We MUST find another suitable outlet for our “creative juices” that is compatible with our abilities.
I might take up writing. It is interesting to type with a right hand that has one missing finger, two fingers that will not bend and a little finger that will not straighten. ( I mack mamy tiping miskates amd eros)
Archie Smith
Archie Smith Instruments
