I Exposed the Truth About Picasso—I Didn't Expect This Reaction

Pablo Picasso died at 91 on April 8th, 1973—25 days before I was born. He created more than 50,000 pieces of known art and is considered one of the most successful artists of all time. Assemblage, collage, mixed media, and the use of artist crayons are all credited to Picasso as techniques he popularized, co-developed, or helped invent. Clearly Picasso pushed the envelope, challenged artistic boundaries, and opened the door for many artists in the future. He lived a long, prolific life. His net worth in today’s currency would be $1.3 billion.

But he was a jerk. Very few people had nice things to say about his character. His granddaughter wrote a book all about how terrible he was. He was most likely a narcissist, definitely a womanizer, and a violent, non-empathetic, unkind, tortured soul. He used and abused women, often having flings and relationships with underaged girls, and did not keep friends.

Picasso was responsible for numerous broken hearts, devastations, betrayals, and losses. Virtually not one soul remembered him as kind, gracious, longsuffering, patient, generous, or loving. Only self-serving, manipulative, and controlling.

Is all of this collateral damage for whatever boundaries he moved in the arts? Did all of these women suffer for the sake of cubism or oil pastels? Could Picasso have achieved the success he did while still being a good, decent person? Or do only twisted souls have the temperament and audacity to challenge artistic norms? Do only the mentally ill have the license to be a name remembered in history?

The Forbidden Question

The age-old question is, “Do we separate the man from his art?” Is what we create separate from ourselves or a part of ourselves? Should the character of the artist be considered, or only what they produce? Are we human beings or human doers?

I recently put out a reel facetiously giving Picasso advice—telling him that if he weren’t such a creep, he might have made even better art. I hypothesized that maybe his twisted and somewhat hideous portraits might have still achieved breakthrough in the arts but possibly could have been beautiful instead of so beastly, ill-formed, and cold.

What if the genius gifts of Picasso remained intact? What if his drive and perseverance held, but he was a good loving father, a devoted husband and valiant friend? If he inspired through kindness, generosity, and love, what could his art have looked like?

Many who commented on my reel were horrified that I could dare such a question. They told me I must separate the man from his work. They said only someone who suffered from mental illness and struggled with temper could have the capacity to push the envelope the way that Picasso did. That I was presumptuous for suggesting the contrary. He was a genius, and all geniuses are deranged! It’s the price we must pay for the gifts they leave.

But this is not truth. The man and his work are inseparable. The creation is the extension of the creator. Every utterance is a mirror of the soul. All of our pain and our overcoming are embedded in every brushstroke. Every past wound and small will towards forgiveness is recorded in our work. Our wonderments, our questions, our statements, and our findings are visible in our art. We create from inner need and desire. Our taste and choice are reflections of our life experiences. Our artistic agency is evident in how we lay down paint.

Nothing about our artwork can be separate from our being, our character, our essence.

Art and the Inner Life

What we create originates from our spirit and filters through our soul. I would even argue that there is no part of what we create that is separate from ourselves. The man and his work are one. This is why our healing and wholeness is so crucial. This is why forgiveness, letting go, and beholding love are vital. This is why creating is so spiritual and transcendent.

If only a deranged and tortured soul can break through the norms and open up new pathways of art, then it is darkness that creates these movements and new modern art. Is this why they are vacant of Beauty? Is this why our architecture and homes have become do drab and dull?

Even more, we should endeavor to create art from a place of humility and openness to the Divine source of beauty. If the creations we want to leave on this earth open portals of freedom, liberty, safety, comfort, peace, joy, and love, we must be the man or woman who esteems such things. We must be people who abide in love, endeavor to reach the valor of forgiveness, and walk in integrity at all costs.

An Artist's Legacy

We aren’t going to be perfect—not even close. We will lose our temper, make mistakes, slip back into feeling like a victim, and be short-tempered. But only for moments. This is human. But certainly we can do better than Picasso. We can own our mistakes and make amends. We can admit fault and reach our hearts for reconciliation. We can have short memories when others do us wrong. We can try to see the best in others and operate from faith, not fear.

Our art will be our legacy, but not in the way we’ve been taught to believe. It will not only testify to our talent, innovation, or productivity. It will testify to who we were. To what we loved. To what we forgave or what we refused to heal.

History does not only remember brushstrokes. It remembers the spirit behind them. And while the world may excuse cruelty in the name of genius, brokenness is not required for birthing beauty. Darkness does not get the final say on creativity.

We are not called to be tormented icons. We are called to be whole humans who create from truth, humility, courage, and love. And if our work opens doors, shapes culture, or moves hearts, let it not be because we stayed stuck in a path of darkness, but because we dared to walk in the light.

What do you hope your work says about you when you’re no longer here?

Share your thoughts in the comments below!