Are You an Artist-Narcissist?
Photo by Matthew T Rader
Creativity: Medicine or Poison?
Have you ever noticed how people usually assume that creativity itself is always a force for good, as if anything creative is necessarily positive?
It’s a common misconception. Yet the truth of the matter is that, as with so many things in a fallen world, there is both a light side and a dark side to our creativity. As Christians, our creative endeavors can serve as either a medicine or a poison.
Trust me, I know firsthand.
Looking for Transcendence in All the Wrong Places
I remember the first time I really gave myself to my creative work.
First, a little background: as a young man, I was something of an introvert and social misfit. Growing up, I received almost no affirmation from the people around me. But I was drawn to the hip-hop scene and the art of the spoken word, which led me to performing in the spotlight.
When I first publicly performed one of my spoken-word pieces, I wanted to captivate people. I wanted to use my creativity — my powerful words — to find purpose and a platform. My art was a form of self-expression and self-exaltation.
When I finished presenting that first work to a small gathering of people in my community, they responded exactly as I hoped they would: they gave me props. For a young man used to constant rejection, receiving praise for my art became like a drug for me. The affirmation was liberating and exhilarating. It boosted my confidence in a world where all I knew was low self-esteem.
It only took that one creative experience — that one positive response — and I was hooked.
“For the artist-narcissist, everything about our art centers around us. We move from finding enjoyment in our art to trying to find ultimate fulfillment in our art.”
The Darkness Creeps In
It seemed that when I made things, I could change things. Many of the dark circumstances of my life — abandonment, rejection, insecurity, depression — seemed to transform when I performed. It was as if my giftedness eclipsed my brokenness. It’s no wonder that my creativity became my identity.
I grew ambitious and competitive. Everything I did was about getting better at my craft — because the better I became, the more praise I got from people and the more I could escape my life of brokenness and pain.
Yet in truth, the more I tried to master my art, the more my art mastered me. Before I knew it, the freedom I once found in creating was gone. I was no longer making or performing out of a sense of self-expression, but out of obligation.
What happened to me happens to a lot of creatives. We become artist-narcissists.
A Portrait of the Artist as Narcissist
For the artist-narcissist, everything about our art centers around us. We move from finding enjoyment in our art to trying to find ultimate fulfillment in our art.
Everything we do creatively begins to feed our addiction for affirmation. We become self-absorbed. Conversations always have a way of turning to our creative accomplishments. We create for identity. We can’t stop performing and creating, because when we do, we break the lifeline of approval and acceptance. Other artists become a threat — because after all, if you’re focused on pursuing your own glory, then no matter how good you are, it kills you to know that there’s someone out there who might be better.
Sound familiar at all?
“But sin can take God’s good gifts — including creativity — and corrupt them into idols. For while creativity itself is a neutral resource, the heart is not.”
All That Creativity Can Be
The truth about your creativity is it can be helpful or hurtful — it all depends on your heart.
Creativity can be sublime, a powerful means of experiencing the transcendent. It can be a vehicle by which truth is experienced emotionally as well as understood intellectually. It can be used as light in the darkness, showing the reality of hope to a hopeless culture. Creativity can be an act of worship that encourages and elevates the soul, reflecting the image of the God who created us.
But sin can take God’s good gifts — including creativity — and corrupt them into idols. For while creativity itself is a neutral resource, the heart is not.
Sin twists our good desires to be known and accepted so that we wrongly find our value in our gifts. That’s what happened to me. My creativity became the core of my identity. Art became what I worshipped, demanding my time, attention, and affection.
When we try to use creativity to satisfy our deep longing to be approved and praised by people, we wind up attempting to steal the glory that belongs exclusively to God.
Bowing at the altar of art, we are enslaved. Who will free us from the body of this death?
The Way Out
Since the issue here lies within our own hearts, the only way to find freedom in our creative work and escape the tyranny of ambition is to create with a new heart — one that’s been transformed by the power of the gospel.
The gospel isn’t just good news for one part of our lives, it’s good news for all aspects of life — including our creativity. In the gospel, you learn you don’t need to perform to be accepted by God. Jesus Christ has already done everything you need to be accepted by him. You don’t need to create for an identity. You’ve been recreated to create from your identity in Christ.
When you’re freed from the slavery of sin, you actually become a better creative. The process may be slow at times, but it eventually puts your creativity in its right place. A new heart makes you capable of using your art in the ways God intended. Instead of being an artist-narcissist, you become a servant-artist, using your gifts not for your own glory, but for the glory of God and the good of people.
In short, your art becomes what it was always meant to be.
This article was adapted by Pip Craighead from content presented by Thomas Terry at the Canvas Conference 2018.
