Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

THE DARK.

As kids we feared the lights going out, the boogie man under the bed or in the closet. The dark was a scary place we endured, with often only a night light for comfort.

My older brother used to hide in my closet at night, then emerge draped in clothes as a ghoulish monster, scaring the bejesus out of me. To this day I check behind every closet door for a lurker!

Detail of “Combustion 1” Acrylic paint, toner, metal leaf on panel. 14” X 11” X 2” 2020 . ©Amy Guion Clay SOLD

As teens we might have deliberately gone to horror films to get shot up with adrenaline, clutch our friends, and then lay awake at night with wide eyes and pounding hearts.

As adults, the fears have compounded exponentially. Now we have bills, mortgages, jobs, taxes, wildfires, illnesses. We grasp for safety, cling to the known and familiar, even when it’s become a rotting corpse (a harsh analogy I know but it sounded gothic and poetic!).

Being afraid of the dark is a primal, natural inclination. Our ancestors really did face saber-toothed tigers, or giant mammoths, lurking around corners or in caves. The dark was a very real threat.

These days the dark is a rare thing - we have obliterated the night sky with illumination that reaches far into space. Some parts of the world have begun to preserve remote areas as “dark sky reserves” so that we might be able to see the stars without competing sources of light.

“The Real Miracle #2, Acrylic paint, toner on panel. 8” x 8” x 2” 2020 Available In my store HERE. ©Amy Guion Clay

But in this post, I want to link this notion of fear of the dark to art making. Because in the studio, the dark is simply the unknown mark and poses no threat to our wellbeing. Yet it can paralyze us in our tracks and keep us from growing.

We often timidly venture into our authentic language, and if the ensuing image should offend us (by being ugly or discordant), we slam the door and pull up the covers over our heads.

But dark is beautiful, as is light. We need not fear the dark side of the coin because both sides are necessary. They are married, yin and yang, and each offers the other contrast and beauty. In painting there is a tendency to move toward the mid tone, afraid of the lights and darks that might make too bold a statement, yet it is the contrast that brings life to the work.

“Combustion 2” Acrylic paint, metal leaf, toner on panel. 14” X 11” X 2” 2020 ©Amy Guion Clay SOLD

Sometimes the fear is about not pleasing others. Maybe the marketplace wants happy colors! I had a gallery once that kept asking for a brighter palette - needless to say, that relationship didn’t last long.

Sure, I could alter my visual voice to please a phantom potential buyer, but once you go down that road it is a slippery slope, my friends. And besides, I have stayed true to my personal expression and have made a very good career of it, while not losing myself to the sell-out.

And the only point in making art, in my humble opinion, is to be free to access mysteries of the creative Source and to search for the poetic voice that is yours alone. Boom.

And remember, so much of great art, philosophy, literature, music has come from northern dark realms. Happy places don’t always make for compelling art! Yet a grounding in authentic vulnerability will always speak to the universal in all of us.

So the antidote to that fear of the dark is to barge in with bravado, stake your claim and forge ahead into the unknown. Grab your machete and hack away. Paint with all black and see what beauty you find there. Purposely go for “mud” (no such thing in my view), and contrast it with a pretty pink. Make bold choices that might never see the light of day. See how much depth you can build up through the layering of light over dark and vice versa. Keep at it until you find something interesting emerging from the shadows.

In the creative process, shine your own light of fearlessness and nothing can harm you.