ON SELF-DOUBT

An occupational hazard of being an artist is that people tend to profess an interest in what you do. "How is the work going?" I get asked at parties, and "any exhibitions coming up?" To which I reply, wearily, that I am not sure, and no, I have no exhibition coming up. Truth is, I am currently stuck in an almighty creative black hole of uncertainty and self-doubt. It happens.

Writer's block is a well-known and amply documented phenomenon. But what about its equivalent among visual artists?Turning to the internet, as one does, I note there's a hive of activity out there, and it is all aglow with positivity. Droves of artists painting, sculpting, making videos, installations and Lord knows what else. All seem to know exactly what they are doing and appear depressingly full of self-esteem and confidence as they go on about how much they enjoy making art and announce their exciting upcoming shows, the prizes and awards they are humbled and honoured by, their previews and reviews. If they have any self-doubt, they certainly keep it well to themselves.

Ask a fellow artist about this over a drink, and they will nervously look around, then draw closer before admitting that yes, of course, they get fed up and bored sometimes with their work and wish they had studied law or got that job in the post-office instead. "It's not all it's cracked up to be," says one, wistfully looking into his pint, "and you do get to spend a lot of time alone in your studio wondering what the hell you're doing." It seems that privately we all have our moments of self-doubt, but nobody dares to out themselves publicly. And for good reason.

Because art is partly a confidence trick. Once that urinal had found its way into a gallery, there was no way of going back to measuring artistic merit by qualities of craftsmanship and imagination alone. Anything can be art if its creator says it is, but this needs to be stated with supreme confidence to pull it off. Put a brick on a gallery floor and brazenly claim that it is a work of art. Keep doing this, and chances are that in time you will convince not only yourself but others, too. Do the same thing but say, "maybe this is art, but maybe it is just an oul' brick, I'm not so sure" and you are done for.

The act of doubting dares to speculate that perhaps the emperors – including ourselves – are naked after all. Without doubt, there would be no change or progress. One of our most anarchic instincts, doubt, once released, will not be put back into its box.

This is what we are afraid of. The corrosive force of self-doubt which saps our creative energies and can lead to total paralysis. We fear that if in some attic chamber of our minds a little doubt keeps gnawing away then in time everything will come horribly unstuck. For a kind of blind faith is paramount in art - a belief in ourselves, in what we are doing, which, in the eyes of many, borders on the deluded. Without it, we might as well throw in the pen or palette knife.

So do not break the spell. Art confronts us with ourselves and the world through smoke and mirrors and magic. All art involves make-believe and trickery, and we, the tricksters, are forever afraid of being found out. So keep those plates spinning. Do not break the spell. Doubt. Never doubt. Doubt again.