No Pain….No Gain
No pain, no gain.
Today, I see a profound disconnection from the practices of the past. Many people believe they can bypass skill and still achieve great art. It isn’t possible.
Today, art is often taught as theory before practice, credentials before mastery, and approval before courage. Students are asked to explain their work before they’ve truly lived it. Institutions define what is “good,” what is “relevant,” and what will be rewarded—often shaping artists to fit systems rather than shaping humans to discover their craft.
The Renaissance worked differently. An artist was first an apprentice. You learned by doing—by sweeping floors, grinding pigments, mixing plaster, carving wood, stretching canvas, and watching the master’s hands move. You learned patience before recognition. Skill before style. Craft before concept. Knowledge was earned through repetition, failure, endurance, and time.
There were no shortcuts. No titles without proof. Your education lived in your hands, your body, your discipline. Pain was part of the process—not suffering for its own sake, but the necessary resistance that builds strength, precision, and understanding.
Today, many are taught to chase visibility, trends, and validation. In the Renaissance, artists chased mastery. The work itself was the credential.
Back then, art was inseparable from architecture, music, engineering, and labor. Artists understood structure, rhythm, weight, balance, and proportion because they built, played, and worked alongside other craftsmen. Art was not isolated—it was integrated into life.
That path still exists.
True learning does not come from permission. It comes from commitment. From mentors who demand excellence. From hours no one sees. From work that humbles you before it frees you.
This is not nostalgia. It is remembrance. There are many ways to become an artist—but mastery has always required the same things: time, humility, discipline, and love for the work itself.
The Renaissance never ended.
It simply stopped being taught.
