Thank you, Lori. That means a lot. I spend a lot of time and intention with this pieces, and it always feels "worth it" when I get a comment like yours.
This line in particular, Jeff: “You must come home to yourself.” The wisdom in that. Writers should paste that line above their keyboards to resist “polishing” their work with AI. Artists aping their heroes should stop and look inward. Flannery O’Connor said that if we survived our childhoods we have enough information about life to last the rest of our days. All we have to do, as you wisely write, is “come home to yourself.” By the way, I remember Joe Bunting from years back in your workshop. Soft spoken, smart, engaging. Your current attendees will gain much.
Well said, John. I'll tell Joe you said hi. And if you've never been to Aix, you'd like it. It's an understated artist's haven, not obvious like Paris but nonetheless beautiful with its own storied past of art and artists. And if you haven't read that little book of Rilke's letters on Cezanne, get it. You'll love his insights.
Thanks, just bought the book. I own Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" so this will make a nice companion. Have a great workshop, sounds beautiful there.
I liked this essay better the second time around. The first time, I was too busy to think about its implications. But now, early in the morning, I can grapple with the question every artist grapples with: “Will I do what is expected of me?”
And I can ask myself that question. There was the time when, graduating from business school, I chose not to make money my GPS. There was the time when a friend called and said, “will you stop everything you’re doing and come help a dying nation to live?“
There was the time when my future wife chose another guy instead of me and I didn’t stop believing.
Yes, these are legacy questions, but first they are questions about courage. Why? Because rarely have I had a conviction about the truth of my future that has been unsullied by doubt.
So maybe the question is not even about truth, but about hope. “What is it that we hope is true about our future? And will we put our chips in the middle of the table based upon that belief?”
We think maybe we know it’s true and we cling to it in the face of a world trained to doubt.
I’ve watched you wrestle with this question for two decades now, Jeff. You’ve wrestled with it in your books, and more importantly, you’ve wrestled with it in your life. I’ve watched you answer Robert Frost’s question about which road to take. Your example continues to en-courage me.
Some would call you an iconoclast based on what you believe. I look at your life and the work you did to not stop hoping - and doing so at times when hope was costly - that you might find a more true path.
Wow. That's beautiful, Seth, and so kind. Thank you. You encourage me and have done so for my entire adult life. I love re-contextualizing this idea as a question of hope. And yes, hope requires courage, and no dream, as you said, comes without doubt. That, to me, is what's so inspiring and invigorating about iconoclasts such as Cezanne. He believed in a thing long before anyone else did and, I think, was relatively content in his own way to pursue that hope in spite of external circumstances. That, to me, is always the bravest thing a person can do, and you've done it more than once in your life and career. It's inspired me.
Jeff, you have written SO many excellent books, articles, and posts. This one belongs in the Jeff Goins Hall of Fame. And I think this has good seeds for a Goins book, maybe even titled "Cézanne’s Palette." Subtitle perhaps something like “Life Lessons for Creatives from a World Famous and Rejected Artist.” The book could contain some of his paintings. I just started reading “If Only We Could See”— a beautifully illustrated hardback by Jennifer Trafton about master watercolor artist and inclusive missionary Lillias Trotter.
If you have time to drive through the Loire Valley and stop at Chambord and Chenonceau it’d be worth it. And not far from Chenonceau is Amboise where Clos Luce is - the house where Leonardo da Vinci spent his last year of life. We lived in that area for two years. Lush, pastoral and beautiful.
Paul Cézanne deserves to be remembered as one of the most original, highly skilled, and deliberate artists of all time. Having seen his work up close in the Musee d’Orsay and Art Institute of Chicago, I can see how he mastered capturing solidity in his landscapes, still lifes, and portraits.
Great article! Aix-en-Provence looks like a wonderful town!
One of my favorite things you’ve ever written, thank you! Enjoy the writing retreat 😊
Thank you, Lori. That means a lot. I spend a lot of time and intention with this pieces, and it always feels "worth it" when I get a comment like yours.
This line in particular, Jeff: “You must come home to yourself.” The wisdom in that. Writers should paste that line above their keyboards to resist “polishing” their work with AI. Artists aping their heroes should stop and look inward. Flannery O’Connor said that if we survived our childhoods we have enough information about life to last the rest of our days. All we have to do, as you wisely write, is “come home to yourself.” By the way, I remember Joe Bunting from years back in your workshop. Soft spoken, smart, engaging. Your current attendees will gain much.
Well said, John. I'll tell Joe you said hi. And if you've never been to Aix, you'd like it. It's an understated artist's haven, not obvious like Paris but nonetheless beautiful with its own storied past of art and artists. And if you haven't read that little book of Rilke's letters on Cezanne, get it. You'll love his insights.
Thanks, just bought the book. I own Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet" so this will make a nice companion. Have a great workshop, sounds beautiful there.
I liked this essay better the second time around. The first time, I was too busy to think about its implications. But now, early in the morning, I can grapple with the question every artist grapples with: “Will I do what is expected of me?”
And I can ask myself that question. There was the time when, graduating from business school, I chose not to make money my GPS. There was the time when a friend called and said, “will you stop everything you’re doing and come help a dying nation to live?“
There was the time when my future wife chose another guy instead of me and I didn’t stop believing.
Yes, these are legacy questions, but first they are questions about courage. Why? Because rarely have I had a conviction about the truth of my future that has been unsullied by doubt.
So maybe the question is not even about truth, but about hope. “What is it that we hope is true about our future? And will we put our chips in the middle of the table based upon that belief?”
We think maybe we know it’s true and we cling to it in the face of a world trained to doubt.
I’ve watched you wrestle with this question for two decades now, Jeff. You’ve wrestled with it in your books, and more importantly, you’ve wrestled with it in your life. I’ve watched you answer Robert Frost’s question about which road to take. Your example continues to en-courage me.
Some would call you an iconoclast based on what you believe. I look at your life and the work you did to not stop hoping - and doing so at times when hope was costly - that you might find a more true path.
Wow. That's beautiful, Seth, and so kind. Thank you. You encourage me and have done so for my entire adult life. I love re-contextualizing this idea as a question of hope. And yes, hope requires courage, and no dream, as you said, comes without doubt. That, to me, is what's so inspiring and invigorating about iconoclasts such as Cezanne. He believed in a thing long before anyone else did and, I think, was relatively content in his own way to pursue that hope in spite of external circumstances. That, to me, is always the bravest thing a person can do, and you've done it more than once in your life and career. It's inspired me.
We were just in Dinard in April! Have a great time!
Jeff, you have written SO many excellent books, articles, and posts. This one belongs in the Jeff Goins Hall of Fame. And I think this has good seeds for a Goins book, maybe even titled "Cézanne’s Palette." Subtitle perhaps something like “Life Lessons for Creatives from a World Famous and Rejected Artist.” The book could contain some of his paintings. I just started reading “If Only We Could See”— a beautifully illustrated hardback by Jennifer Trafton about master watercolor artist and inclusive missionary Lillias Trotter.
Ooh, that book sounds interesting.
I love Aix. It's a beautiful place
If you have time to drive through the Loire Valley and stop at Chambord and Chenonceau it’d be worth it. And not far from Chenonceau is Amboise where Clos Luce is - the house where Leonardo da Vinci spent his last year of life. We lived in that area for two years. Lush, pastoral and beautiful.
Oh,Jeff; I really liked this one! You know that I know you're a talented writer, but I almost forgot I was reading a blog post. Tres authentique!
The highest of compliments!
Paul Cézanne deserves to be remembered as one of the most original, highly skilled, and deliberate artists of all time. Having seen his work up close in the Musee d’Orsay and Art Institute of Chicago, I can see how he mastered capturing solidity in his landscapes, still lifes, and portraits.
Great article! Aix-en-Provence looks like a wonderful town!