My Motivation for Producing Art

I have been having a bit of a frustrating week.  The struggle to pay bills at the expense of time to do my own work, for which I don't receive immediate financial compensation, is a teeter-totter ride and I too frequently find myself having to come down on the side of paying the bills.  I am not whining (I lie, yes I am), this is the life I have chosen, but it certainly makes me question my choices.  Sometimes the lure of financial security is very strong.  I have been listening to The Two Paths by John Ruskin recently and it has been a welcome relief. 

You can get the e-text of The Two Paths on Project Gutenberg here.
You can listen to The Two Paths on Librivox.org here.

Ask yourselves what is the leading motive which actuates you while you are at work. I do not ask you what your leading motive is for working--that is a different thing; you may have families to support--parents to help--brides to win; you may have all these, or other such sacred and pre-eminent motives, to press the morning's labour and prompt the twilight thought. But when you are fairly at the work, what is the motive then which tells upon every touch of it? If it is the love of that which your work represents--if, being a landscape painter, it is love of hills and trees that moves you--if, being a figure painter, it is love of human beauty and human soul that moves you--if, being a flower or animal painter, it is love, and wonder, and delight in petal and in limb that move you, then the Spirit is upon you, and the earth is yours, and the fulness thereof. But if, on the other hand, it is petty self-complacency in your own skill, trust in precepts and laws, hope for academical or popular approbation, or avarice of wealth,--it is quite possible that by steady industry, or even by fortunate chance, you may win the applause, the position, the fortune, that you desire;-- but one touch of true art you will never lay on canvas or on stone as long as you live. 

Make, then, your choice, boldly and consciously, for one way or other it must be made. On the dark and dangerous side are set, the pride which delights in self-contemplation--the indolence which rests in unquestioned forms--the ignorance that despises what is fairest among God's creatures, and the dulness that denies what is marvellous in His working: there is a life of monotony for your own souls, and of misguiding for those of others. And, on the other side, is open to your choice the life of the crowned spirit, moving as a light in creation-- discovering always--illuminating always, gaining every hour in strength, yet bowed down every hour into deeper humility; sure of being right in its aim, sure of being irresistible in its progress; happy in what it has securely done--happier in what, day by day, it may as securely hope; happiest at the close of life, when the right hand begins to forget its cunning, to remember, that there never was a touch of the chisel or the pencil it wielded, but has added to the knowledge and quickened the happiness of mankind.

--John Ruskin, The Two Paths