The Mastery Project: studies of folks who are masters at what they do
When I contemplate mastery, these come to mind.
Time. There is a reason most of the folks in these paintings have grey hair and careworn faces. Our culture would have us believe mastery comes as a result of a viral video, or from honing a few lightning guitar chops, or while sipping wine and copying a Van Gogh painting. Or worse, that mastery comes when what we call talent was somehow breathed into our nostrils as infants; as if one day we just jumped out of our cribs, whipped a Sharpie out of our nappies and began to do masterly things on the walls of our nurseries. I speak of time measured in decades and lifetimes, not in terms of television seasons.
Unfailing dedication. Dedication in the face of crippling self doubt and the doubts, judgments and fears of friends and family. The will to carry on with an endeavor for decades when no one (or at least very few) is cheering you on.
Endless toil; accepting failure daily as something that is just part of the process and understanding that every step forward is just practice for the next step and there is, in the end, really no arrival. The Ignoring of lack of sleep, persistent muscle cramps, and toxicity of materials while enduring obsession and compulsion and the maladies they wreak.
Sharing. The folks in these paintings understand that the knowledge they’ve achieved will be lost if it is not shared with those who will be proper stewards and carry it forward. And so they teach and mentor others - very often for free or for ridiculously low remuneration - understanding that the payoff is not and cannot be financial.
I consider myself blessed to have such distinguished artists as friends, instructors and mentors. The world is richer and more profound because of them.
Time. There is a reason most of the folks in these paintings have grey hair and careworn faces. Our culture would have us believe mastery comes as a result of a viral video, or from honing a few lightning guitar chops, or while sipping wine and copying a Van Gogh painting. Or worse, that mastery comes when what we call talent was somehow breathed into our nostrils as infants; as if one day we just jumped out of our cribs, whipped a Sharpie out of our nappies and began to do masterly things on the walls of our nurseries. I speak of time measured in decades and lifetimes, not in terms of television seasons.
Unfailing dedication. Dedication in the face of crippling self doubt and the doubts, judgments and fears of friends and family. The will to carry on with an endeavor for decades when no one (or at least very few) is cheering you on.
Endless toil; accepting failure daily as something that is just part of the process and understanding that every step forward is just practice for the next step and there is, in the end, really no arrival. The Ignoring of lack of sleep, persistent muscle cramps, and toxicity of materials while enduring obsession and compulsion and the maladies they wreak.
Sharing. The folks in these paintings understand that the knowledge they’ve achieved will be lost if it is not shared with those who will be proper stewards and carry it forward. And so they teach and mentor others - very often for free or for ridiculously low remuneration - understanding that the payoff is not and cannot be financial.
I consider myself blessed to have such distinguished artists as friends, instructors and mentors. The world is richer and more profound because of them.
All work copyright 2022, Kevin Hunter - all rights reserved. All paintings are oil on linen, 24" x30".
