Peace and Freedom

So on Friday I went to Tate Liverpool to view an exhibition of Picasso’s work spanning the entire length of his political and emotional career. And it was, quite simply, astounding.

Picasso was a man that was moved by the world around him, and who responded to the things he saw and felt with intense passion and artistic expression. From the occupation during the Second World War where he lived in Paris, though his alliance with the Communism party, his post-war expressions of death and mortality, through the Cuban Missile Crisis and other conflicts around the world and his dedication to the Peace Movement, Picasso painted to SAY SOMETHING.

I spent the exhibition with my head on fire. I have genuinely rarely been more moved, or more affected by an experience. I danced around the exhibition for three hours, nearly. My nose pressed up to the glass when I could, my fingers tracing the lines of his lines and staring long and hard at the shapes and patterns of each painting and sculpture. Trying to see what he saw, feel what he felt. And I GOT IT, I did see, or at least, it felt like I did. Each image seemed so FULL of meaning and significance and power.

I learnt so much. I learnt that Picasso liked to paint the spaces around things. I learnt that line was always more important than colour to him. I learnt that an owl means death, but not to me.  I learnt that conflict and cruelty and suffering and the resulting passion and outrage could result in something beautiful. I learnt that death and darkness can be just as beautiful as flowers and sunsets. I learnt that if you find an image you love that you connect with, you are drawn to paint it over and over. Not to improve the shape of it but just because it feels right under your brush and your pen.

But the one thing that struck me over and over was the functionality of his work. I am such an aesthetic at heart, it is ALL about beauty for me, and yet Picasso’s work was so fundamentally functional. It was art to portray a message. Only in his later years could you begin to see the first inklings of aesthetic indulgence, of his desire to captures things simply because they were beautiful, and even then in a brash, uncompromising style – HIS idea of beauty, no-one else’s.

And the thing that was so intensely inspirational was that, driven by political fervour, by his need to share a view with the world, his art was so devoid of fear. Picasso painted without one moment’s hesitation, not a second’s doubt. Although, I imagine, probably a deeply arrogant man, he would HAVE to be, his sometimes child-like expressions are completely devoid of ego. He cared not one iota what people thought, what things were SUPPOSED to look like, he just DID.

I stood and watched a video of Picasso painting a mural on a chapel wall. Old, bare chested, he moved up and down a step ladder to make big, bold strokes without a pause. I watched the unforgettable image of peace, the dove, come to life in less than five seconds flat. Perfect. Beautiful. Unapologetic. I shook at the power of it, of the power of HIM.

I want to paint like that, not in his style, but in his attitude. I want to live like that.

I want my art to be something joyous, a gift at my fingertips I am not afraid of and not afraid to embrace MY way, without thought for other’s opinion. Free.

I want my writing to be the same. Not pushed in directions I don’t want. Free to flow and evolve in my own voice.

And that is why yesterday I decided to apply to study Fine Art and Sculpture full time at my local art school from September. I never got to go to university, have never had one scrap of artistic training. I am sick of carrying dreams around with me like old, tight chains. I want to stop being afraid and start doing.

At school I will have the perfect supportive environment to explore my artistic identity. I will have the indulgence of time and financial support to see where this takes me. And with only 16 hours on campus and Kai in nursery I will have the freedom of evenings and weekends to still pursue my writing, work on my book, do whatever I want really.

So that’s that.

I will never be Picasso. But I will live a life unafraid, one of inner peace and freedom. To that I pledge.

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