October 7, 2025

The Artist as Enemy, Part Two

I hardly slept the night before my art show. All of the things I still needed or wanted to solve ran through my head like an un-ending chorus from that Lamb Chops song (if you know, you really know, haha!), but there was an underlying stress. The deep worry that I was putting myself in danger. After all, these were meaningful pieces to me, but they were also sharp critiques of harmful culture or ideologies. I had stepped into the "artist as enemy" shoes with trepidation, but it was far too late to back out.

Based on what we looked at last week, I was trying to fulfill the important role of an artist in making visible what sometimes hides in the background (or the "environment"). Here's the crux of the discovery we made when we looked at some of Marshall McLuhan's arguments in his essay, The relation of environment to anti-environment:

When an environment is new, we perceive the old one for the first time...when the Emperor appeared in his new clothes, his courtiers did not see his nudity, they saw his old clothes. Only the small child and the artist have the immediacy of approach that permits perception of the environmental.

—McLuhan, page 18

The environment we're in is new, and it's dangerous. So let's finally explore some of the tools that an artist (or perhaps a small child) uses to both perceive and draw attention to that which normally escapes our notice.

Tools of the Trade

I've mentioned before that my art was utterly unremarkable as a college art student. I recall being frustrated by this because I was aware of the problem, but not aware of why I couldn't make things that really moved people. I just don't have anything to say, I thought to myself very frequently.

The reason I didn't have anything to say is that I was ignorant of the environment—the background of systems, emotions, people, and even myself. In other words, I was disconnected. I make this point at the start to re-emphasize that "being an artist" is not what's actually required. I'm not exclusivist when it comes to art—I believe that art and creativity are deeply human and therefore not confined to a few genius craftsmen.

I think the reason why artists and small children are more likely to be able to see what others can't is because the practice of art trains you to see. If small children are unencumbered by the social pressure of only seeing what you're supposed to see, then art is a way to tap back into that freedom, although it doesn't guarantee that vision.

Drawing is one way to practice your sight. Most people stop drawing after a young age and get stuck with symbols to draw, rather than drawing what the eye perceives. For example, if I pull someone off the street and tell them to draw a person, most likely they'll produce some kind of stick figure. The fact that you know what a "stick figure" even is, shows how prevalent these pre-baked symbols are in our minds. A person looks nothing like a stick figure, but we've been trained to draw people in this way. Someone who has practiced drawing—even if only a little bit—will more likely produce something that resembles a person's shape. Same thing goes for other body parts like hands, lips, eyes, hair.

To draw is to see. The more you draw, the more you see. Drawing can help create rich memories of what you experience in addition to developing your ability to notice the small subtleties around you. This is a potent tool to help anyone get a grasp on the environment because the more you notice the small things around you, the more you will start to notice in the other layers of the world, whether it be systems or emotions or things that aren't right.

A less-tangible tool that you can access is what Dan Pink calls "Symphony":

[Symphony] is the capacity to synthesize rather than to analyze; to see relationships between seemingly unrelated fields; to detect broad patterns rather than to deliver specific answers; and to invent something new by combining elements nobody else thought to pair.

A Whole New Mind, Daniel H. Pink (2005), page 130

Pattern recognition seems basic or automatic thanks to our brains, but it can be "upgraded" into a skill if pursued. Unfortunately, it is easy to forget about or ignore this in the current world. I certainly have trouble thinking long-term and big-picture when I'm trapped in a content feed, jumping from one random topic to the next in rapid succession. It takes intention and restraint to hold space so that you can process what you perceive and start to identify relationships and broad patterns.

I have found two concrete ways that have helped me develop a systems-thinking mindset:

  1. Answer a question with a question
  2. Celebrate negative space (also see newsletter, Horror Vacui)

I've noticed that when people ask questions, we rarely give them space to ask the right question. Instead of allowing a question time and space, we shove an answer onto it as quickly as possible. This isn't inherently bad—sometimes it's insightful to see what comes out of my mouth without thinking—but I've very much enjoyed the practice of asking a question in response to a question as a means of getting a deeper understanding. This is particularly useful in consultation situations, but it also works well in casual conversations.

Celebrating negative space (the space in between focal points or subjects) is another practice. I watched an insightful video about Japanese ways of seeing space and a concept called, yohaku no bi, seems to be familiar, thinking of Marshall McLuhan's observations about environment (background) and anti-environment (foreground/subject).

Negative space is usually treated as background, a supporting element for the main subject. Yohaku, however, celebrates the blankness itself, the margin left intentionally unfilled, where subject and space depend on each other for meaning...Yohaku no bi treats empty space as a living element in its own right.

Japanese Ways of Seeing Space: Ma, Yohaku no Bi, and Subtraction, Dans Le Gris, timestamp 3:50

When we slow down and focus on what is in between what we normally see, the environment starts to move into view. The negative space helps us see the relationships between other relationships. We start to recognize larger patterns as we examine more closely the familiar "things" in our world (physical or not).

Show Time

I was very surprised by the experience of the art show: people actually came, people were kind, people had important conversations about pertinent issues. In fact, I came away from the experience changed in a way I did not anticipate.

In order to best explain, I want to be able to show you as much as tell you, so I'll leave you on another cliff-hanger.

For now, I hope that knowing about these few tools is empowering for you.

To be continued...