I’ll be moving to California in a few months, in pursuit of a new lifestyle and to build a creative life there. 

The idea has been gestating in my unconscious for many years, but only recently inspired by a very painful breakup that occurred this past spring. 

Out of grief from that experience, a spiritual calling emerged. While I’ve been motivated by a creative calling for the past five years, my spirituality has lagged. I started going back to church a few years ago, to re-establish a relationship with God.  But the breakup really catalyzed a change in me. 

I turned to God because I realized I had no choice but to. I had misplaced my spirituality in a woman. And when that woman left, a terrible void opened up inside me. I had to replace that void with a connection to the Source of my creativity - a spirit I don’t claim ownership of. It was a gift given to me, gracefully, by a higher power. 

This all leads to Los Angeles, which I’ll be moving to in the Fall. It’s going to take more a bit more time than initially expected, but it’s going to happen. I’ve taken my deliberate time with the idea, really weighing the pros and cons. I’m glad I have, because it’s led me to a more grounded decision. I have many reasons to move there - personal, professional, and spiritual. And I’ve spent time really deeply considering those reasons, namely to avoid moving across the country on an emotional whim. 

 I didn’t want to move out of some emotional reaction to the situation I found myself in DC. I want to be moving towards something, not running away from something. I’m glad I’ve taken my time to consider exactly what those things I’m moving towards are:  the expansiveness of life in California, more artistic opportunities, a slower, more chill way of life, the beauty of its geography, and simply just a change of scene. And thankfully my day job enables me to continue earning a living in California as I continue my artistic pursuits. 

In my deliberation, I came up with a list of things I’m considering as I make this transition: 

-Move with the idea that “this is an experiment, I’m going to see what happens.”

-Move with the expectation that nothing is going to happen for me unless I initiate action and put things in motion. The rest is up to God. 

-I must take my spirituality with me, wherever I go. It will serve me, regardless of where I live. 

-Go with the expectation that my craft is my craft, and it will improve at a rate determined by how hard I work, how open I am to improvement, and how much I can expose my work to a sophisticated audience.

-Ultimately, my work has to reach larger markets to really “make it.” Those markets exist in 3 places in the United States: New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. All roads lead to those markets, inevitably. Living in one of those markets increases the probability of actually selling in those markets, because living there = exposure  = connections = opportunities = sales. 

-I try and remind myself that life isn’t guaranteed. My time on this earth isn’t guaranteed. It could all change in a moment. I must walk with that in mind, in balance with everything else. 

Hi, I’m Philip Linder, and I want to share my journey of becoming a painter with you. Growing up, I never considered myself an artistic person. I thought of art as just a pastime for people with too much leisure. Instead, I was an athlete and an academic achiever. I never gave art a second thought until high school when I was that overachieving kid who wanted to be the President someday.

My life has never followed a straight path. I attended West Point after high school, but I hated it and left after two years. I then went to a regular college and enrolled in ROTC because I wanted to serve in the Army. I finally got my chance to fly Blackhawk helicopters, which was always a dream of mine. I then worked in politics and moved to DC to attend graduate school, still holding onto my childhood dream of becoming the President.

Living in DC was exciting, but I always felt like something was missing. I wanted a real calling, a purpose in life. I believed that the military was a profession you could believe in, not just a job, but a calling. However, I was searching externally for something that I could only find internally.

I didn’t know where to start looking for my purpose, but I knew I needed to find it. One day, while walking around in a suit on the US Capitol grounds, I realized that I had to leave politics to find what was missing. I got a job at a tech startup, which I loved. I enjoyed creating something, and it was a step in the right direction. I worked there for several years, but then my life became complicated. My relationship ended at the same time as the pandemic hit, and I started searching for my purpose once again. Instead of searching externally, I looked inward. I asked myself who I was, what I stood for, what motivated me, and what I wanted to achieve beyond status and money.

I started with a sketchbook and began drawing. Then I started collaging by combining photos and drawing together. Each step brought me closer to what I was searching for. Eventually, I found my way to the canvas, and painting overtook my life. I painted after work and on weekends. I set up a small studio in the hallway of my apartment in DC. It was a mess, but it was what I had to do. I was drawn to abstract expressionists like De Kooning, Pollack, Frankenthaler, and Diebenkorn, and I worked to emulate them.

At first, I kept my passion for painting to myself because I didn’t know how to explain it to people who knew me. I worried about what people would think, that I sucked, that I had no formal training, and that it was just a distraction from my day job. I didn’t know how to incorporate it into my identity because I was a military tech guy, not an artist. However, the more I pursued it, the more people started taking interest, and my confidence grew.

I started taking the craft more seriously and enrolled in courses whenever I could find the time. I attended two-week painting workshops at the New York Studio School, workshops at the Washington Studio School and Scottsdale Studio School in Arizona, and live drawing sessions. I also visited as many museums in DC and NYC as I could. I learned that technique and skill are just as important as inspiration and subject, and that the craft of painting is a lifelong calling that will continually challenge me.

This past year has been full of milestones for me. I got my first real studio at the Jackson Art Center in DC and my first gallery show at the Arts Club of Washington. As time goes by, my confidence continues to grow.

If you would have told me five years ago this would be my life, I would have laughed. I couldn’t have predicted this. But the power of opening yourself up to Fate is mysterious. You’ll find yourself in places that you would have never dreamed of. And that’s a good thing. 

I think we often pursue things for reasons that we don’t fully understand. So much of our behavior and motivation come from our unconscious. And it was only when I started communicating with my own unconscious mind that things started happening for me. 

Much of my work is an expression of the unconscious forces in our lives. The complexity of the human mind and soul. It’s a fascinating subject for me to explore. 

Before I discovered painting, I read a lot of books and watched a lot of videos about “pursuing your passion.” It’s such an overused term these days. And I remember thinking at the time, well what if I don’t know what I’m passionate about? If I don’t even know what my passion is, I don’t know where to start. 

For me, the passion didn’t emerge until I started to face myself. And there were parts of myself that I didn’t really like, that were quite ugly. But the more I talked with myself, the more my understanding grew. I learned how to communicate with my unconscious, the good parts and the bad. And through that process, I was transformed. Not overnight, but over time, step by step. Bit by bit. 

 I know there’s a lot of you that feel like you’re destined for something, but just haven’t found it yet. There’s also a lot of you that have become disillusioned with whatever you were doing. 

 My advice is simple: stop looking outward, and start looking inward. All the answers are within you. You just need to be brave enough to go look for them. 

The muse has played a critical role in artistic creativity throughout history. This concept of the muse as an inspiration for creativity can be attributed to the Greeks, who believed that muses were divine beings who bestowed creative inspiration on artists. Today, the concept of the muse is still relevant, with many artists citing a muse as a source of inspiration for their work. In this article, I will explore the role of the muse in artistic creativity, referencing the work of Carl Jung, other psychologists, and artists.

According to Carl Jung, the muse is an archetype that exists within the human psyche. In his book, “The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious,” he wrote: “The Muse is an aspect of the anima or soul, and hence is related to the deepest levels of the unconscious.” Jung believed that the muse served as a conduit between the artist and the collective unconscious, tapping into a deeper well of inspiration and creativity.

Other psychologists and artists have also commented on the role of the muse in artistic creativity. Psychologist Rollo May wrote in his book, “The Courage to Create”: “The Muse is not an artistic mystery, but a mathematical equation. The gift are those ideas you think of as you drift to sleep. The giver is that one you think of when you first awake.” Similarly, artist Pablo Picasso once said: “Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working.”

One of the most famous examples of a muse in art is the story of Pablo Picasso and his muse, Dora Maar. Maar was a photographer, painter, and model who inspired some of Picasso’s most famous works. She also documented the creation of “Guernica,” Picasso’s anti-war masterpiece. Their relationship was tumultuous, with Picasso often describing her as difficult and demanding. However, Maar’s role as a muse in Picasso’s life and work is undeniable.

In my own personal work, the Muse has come to me in a dream. I’ll never forgot that I had a dream that featured the Muse: I was locked in a dungy basement made of stone. It was damp and dark. An ominous deep voice shouted from the dark, telling me “face her.” A woman appeared out of the darkness, wearing a red dress. I had a decision to make: face her or run away. I ran away, afraid that she might kill me. I clawed through the stone walls of the basement and found an opening. I removed the stone rocks to reveal a tunnel that lead to the outside of the basement prison. I crawled through the tunnel which lead me outside, into a beautify sunny and green pasture. Yet as I was exiting the tunnel, a laser beam booby trap, set up at the end of the tunnel, cut my chest and neck, almost decapitating me. I was bleeding profusely from the neck, and I thought I was going to die. I stumbled through the pasture, over a hill toward a beautiful old victorian house. I approached the house and banged on it’s ornate wooden door. A butler opened the door and saw I was wounded. He ushered me into the house, which was filled with many fancy people have a cocktail party. The party guests attended to my wounds and bandaged me and put me to bed. A phone call rang in the house and the butler picked up. The ominous voice from the basement dungeon came on the line and asked the butler if he had seen me, as I had escaped the basement dungeon. The butler lied and said he hadn’t seen me, and put the phone back in it’s receiver. 

 Carl Jung believed that the muse served as a conduit between the artist and the collective unconscious, while other psychologists and artists have described the muse as a source of inspiration that requires hard work and dedication to manifest. My dream is just one example of how a Muse can enter your life. I’ve had women in my life that are Muses, one in particular Whether divine inspiration or a result of hard work and dedication, the muse remains an integral part of artistic creativity.