Pleasure, paint and the joy of life’s journey

MY brother’s art work will not feature in the Archibald Prize exhibition.

His entry was a portrait of noted sports broadcaster and TV host Gerard Whateley, and while I’m no arts judge or critic, I thought it was brilliant.

It captured a wonderful likeness of Gerard outside the Young & Jackson pub in Melbourne, as the calm voice while the rush of Melbourne moved around him.

But the piece was not shortlisted for the exhibition.

Hundreds of hours of highly-skilled work, research, travelling to meet and better understand his subject, dreaming up the concept and then meticulously executing his vision, it all amounted to nothing.

Or did it?

His defeat, if you could call it that, made me stop and think.

In the rush of life, particularly in modern times, do too many of us focus on the end result rather than the joy of the journey, whether it be work, sport or even art?

In my brother’s example, were those hundreds of hours crafting his piece wasted, or used in the best way possible?

Here was a person focused on a goal, striving for perfection, and driven by inner pride. When humans are in that mindset, are we not our best selves?

One of the main reasons I deeply admire artists is their dedication to their inner passion.

The good ones aren’t good by chance and I rate my brother in that conversation. They all dedicate enormous time to their respective craft and look to continually improve and evolve, something we should all aspire towards.

And where would the world be without those dreaming artists who try and fail, try and fail before maybe, just maybe, coming up with their masterpiece?

Or the musicians who produce a million songs before finally creating their No.1 hit?

A few months ago, I watched the Mildura Theatre Company’s amateur production Mamma Mia at the Mildura Art Centre.

I wrote in this column at the time that it didn’t matter if they were police officers, students, doctors, plumbers, bakers or candlestick makers, the cast was quite literally made up of very different characters who all shared the one passion.

They all gave up their time outside of work hours to be their best selves, to test their own boundaries and, yes, risk failure on a big stage.

It’s what makes art such an emotional journey, one that fulfils the audience as much as the performer.

I asked my brother what his emotions were after missing out on being part of the Archibald Prize exhibition.

“There was a sigh, I guess, but within that there was self-respect, because I knew that was not why I painted that painting,” he said.

So why did you?

“I wanted to challenge myself at another level,” he said. “To even enter a prestigious award like this I had to be at my best and go beyond where I’d been.

“I wondered if I missed out, would it flatten me? But honestly, I am now looking to find the next challenge and don’t know what it is.”

Did his piece of art win him the Archibald Prize or make him a millionaire? No. But is he richer for the experience? Absolutely.

In life, that’s a win, right?