The Matilda Theory. By Blaike Gillshaw.

Blaike Gillshaw, 2025

(First Published in 'This Isn't Everything')

I have this theory that artists are really all just waiting for something.

Art matters to me so much and it always will but I also want art to come second to life every time. It should never be a competition; it shouldn’t even be a question.

My ideas about purpose and the meaning of life change all the time. I think that’s a good thing. Time changes, we should too. I used to think that if I had a purpose, then it was to make art. It’s not. My purpose, without question is to be a good friend. I don’t always get it right. None of us do. But that’s not the point. The point is choosing them. Everything I make is tied to them somehow but they matter to me more than anything I’ll ever make with my hands. They always will.

That said, I’ve never had a reason to stop making art. I hope I do, one day. I am so sure that art is a place holder. It’s true. Love wasn’t made for paper. Poets were never supposed to write.

I’ll never stop making art. I’ll never stop being an artist but when people talk about me, I don’t want them to only think of me as an artist. I don’t want it to consume my life. Recently, I’ve started to need it a lot less than I used to and I think that’s healthy. It’s also scary. I don’t really know who I am without it. It is truly the only constant I’ve ever had.

That’s part of the problem though, right? It should never have been the only thing I had. It shouldn’t be the only thing that anybody has.

I’m so sure that it’s a place holder. Like zero. Zero isn’t technically a number, you just need it there to make sense of everything else. If the universe was written in binary code, then that would still track. Art is zero, life is one. You need both of them for everything to make sense but zero is still always a placeholder.

I think it’s like in Matilda, the Roald Dahl story. Where Matilda has superpowers because her life isn’t enough for her. Her math class doesn’t challenge her, her family doesn’t love her. She’s read all of the books in the library. She doesn’t have any friends to talk to or share ideas with. She doesn’t have anyone. She doesn’t have any ones. She has the zero. She has superpowers but, they are just a placeholder until her life gives her everything she actually needs.

She only has her superpowers until her math class gets hard - she’s challenged academically. Until she finds a family - she finds someone who reads to her even though she’s a very competent reader already. Until she feels loved.

Matilda only has superpowers until her life gives her as much as she was willing to give to it.

Artists are artists all of the time. There’s no denying it. You can’t change the way an artist sees the world but you can change the way an artist is treated by the world. And if you get to be a part of that, you should be.

Artists are the best people to know. The artists that I know? I am in awe of them constantly.

I don’t think that there are any artists who could stop making art completely, not forever, not regardless of any turns their life might take. But I do think that there is a difference between choosing to make art and needing to.

I used to need art. I used to physically feel it when there was a painting that I needed to paint. I couldn’t keep my hands still. Mentos and diet soda. It was as if there was leftover energy stuck inside of me waiting to be let out. And that got transferred into paintings and drawings - art.

I don’t feel that way anywhere near as often as I used to. I don’t have so much energy left over anymore. Or at least that energy transfer doesn’t happen so much. I haven’t felt as if there’s been a painting inside of me at all so far this year – and we’re nearly eight months in!

My life is bigger now than it was five years ago. Sometimes the math class gets too hard. Sometimes I fall in love. And yeah, sometimes I do still feel like I need to paint or draw, (or more often now, write.) But for the most part, I don’t need superpowers anymore. I feel like I’m already seen.

I used to feel so much and have nowhere to put it. I still feel just as much, sometimes I think I feel more. I just have places to put it now.

The shapes have changed now but I’ll never stop drawing. I will paint again. I can’t stop my thoughts from rhyming. Art will always matter to me and I hope that it matters to you. It should.

The whole universe would fall apart without it.

I just hope – for me and for you – that there are always things that matter more. I hope the math class gets hard sometimes and that you find a family who loves you. I hope someone reads to you.