Art, the Heart and Tracey Emin

“Art arises from loss. I wish this weren’t the case. I wish that every time I met a new woman and she rocked my world, I was inspired to write my ass off. But that is not what happens. What happens is we lie around in bed eating chocolates and screwing. Art is what happens when things don’t work out, when you’re licking your wounds. Art is, to a larger extent than people would like to think, a productive licking of the wounds.”

— Steve Almond, Candyfreak

When interviewed on her sophmore album, 21, British artist Adele told reporters that without boys, there’d be no music. No artist can deny the cathartic power of purging all that heartbreak in art. For further examples on artists proverbially losing the plot post breakup, please refert to Kanye and his Beautiful, Dark, Twisted Fantasy.

All too aware of my tendency to paint when sad or anxious, my friend, Fake’s Windy Aulia uses painting singular touch-point. When treading on dangerous territory, all he simply need ask is, “Do you really want to paint something new. Do you really want to go there” to help me reframe. And yet, to say that creating—especially for my fashion designer friend—is a kind of emotional purge is nothing short of an understatement. Like writing, it’s a harrowing process. Fraught with doubt, insecurity, periods of white noise.

They say art takes courage, and celebrated artist Tracey Emin embodies this. Her work captured below is raw, aggressive and not always necessarily pretty. But it is, ultimately, a celebration of her. Below lies the beating heart of Tracey Emin. These careful confessions are wonderful in all their neon glory.