“It took me four years to paint like Rafael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”
Picasso’s quote reminds me of a Jewish idea I once came across. According to some interpretations of the Midrash, tradition holds that while a human Child grows in its mother’s womb, it is granted knowledge of all the mysteries of life. From the workings of nature to the meaning of human existence, the unborn Child rests in the comfort of perfect wisdom. But just before the Child is born, an Angel comes and touches it on the lips, causing the Child to forget everything. Thus, he or she is then born into a world of mystery, made to spend the rest of life seeking to recover the wisdom that has been forgotten.
Perhaps inspiration works in this way. When we see or experience something in life that inspires us, there is often a sense that it touches something deep inside of us, something that has always been there. Therefore, solving a problem or creating a work of art may not be so much about “discovering” something new, but rather about finding those things that resonate with the very depths of who we are. To remember what we have forgotten.
Paradoxically, what Picasso actually meant by this quote may be quite different. He seems to suggest that the Art World he was born into had a certain “mold” to follow, a certain expectation to meet. Society taught him that his paintings had to follow a precise formula – a particular rhyme and meter – in order to be acceptable and admired. But Picasso did not agree with Society. Instead of remembering what he had forgotten, Picasso sought forget all that he had learned. He spent the rest of his life getting back to the place where he could see art in its purest form – through the eyes of a child.
In the end, whether inspiration is really about remembering or forgetting, it is truly a worthy quest, one that will last our entire lives.
"Inspiration" (2016). Pen on paper, 20cm x 28cm.
(cover image: "Guernica" by Pablo Picasso, 1937).