If you’ve ever wondered why your art wasn’t among the 16 art pieces posted when you search up “What is the best art?,” the simple answer is: popularity or mass appeal. And you probably don’t have it. Google defines good as “to be desired or approved of.” Art can be defined as “the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.”

The origin of the word art is derived from the Latin word, ars, which originally meant skill or craft. The word good is derived from the old English word, gōd, which meant beneficial, effective, righteous, etc. And going by those definitions and old meanings, you wouldn’t be wrong to assume the 16 pieces are listed for those reasons; they are very popular, and, technically speaking, good-art. They are names and paintings you could remember even after you’ve forgotten everything else. But who picks “the best” or the “good art” for said list, and why isn’t yours on there? How can good-art be defined? By the seven-year old furiously scribbling outside the lines on a coloring sheet, or by Van Gogh cutting off his ear? It’s all about popularity. The definition of good art can be subjective, but generally it’s only subjective to the original artist and a few others; beauty is in the eyes of the beholders and all that. But “good art” is most often judged by the masses; it’s not good unless it’s popular. And that’s not to say it’s bad if it’s not popular, it just means your art won’t be popping up on any “good art” lists. But is that okay; are you still a good artist if you’re obsolete? Are you still a good artist if no one knows your name or your work? 

Should an art account with 187 followers and average 20 likes per post be classified as bad because of its lack of appearance on a Google list? When does the term ‘good’ start becoming derogatory to these artists if the expected results of being good never happens? When the artist is called good but yields no results, when they get put on no lists despite their best efforts? If art is expected to reach those standards it will never be good. If Van Gogh wasn’t popular and just cut off his ear it wouldn’t be considered the “artistic statement” it is today, and he definitely wouldn’t be as well-known. But because he was popular (or became popular) and considered to be one of the greats, his self-mutilation is considered good art. Great art even, and it’s what he’s known for. Ask a non-artist to name a single art piece by Van Gogh. Did they name The Starry Night? No? What about, Vase With Fifteen Sunflowers? Still no? Did they ask, “Isn’t he the guy that cut off his ear?” You can be known, a public-figure, a mass-appeal artist, a popular guy, yet still only be known artistically as the man that self-mutilated. Popular ≠ good. 

So, it comes down to those smaller artists to set themselves apart, they must furiously and ruthlessly color outside the lines, think outside the box, sever their limbs (metaphorically), and aim to get bigger than they ever could be. They must, impossibly, aim to get big enough to be put on a good art list. And then, when they fail to be put on any lists, they must be content to simply create art, good and bad. It will be seen as both because it will be both. 

Good art is not feverishly trying again and again to be put on a list, remaining uncontented unless you’re on a list. If you’re going to be an artist, and you’re going to fail at being a good artist, then you might as well create what you want. Not what’s going to be put on some random list a few highschoolers writing essays might look up once in their life. That shouldn’t be the goal or standard for anything. Good art should not be an attempt to be popular. Those people weren’t good artists because they made good art; they were good artists because they made popular art. Good art is not the restless nights spent refreshing your social media accounts, hopelessly waiting for one of your pieces to be “the one” and go viral. Good art is not the number of likes or views or comments you get. If all you’re searching for when you create art is praise and popularity, look elsewhere- look at Van Gogh’s mauled and severed ear, at the 16 “best art” pieces, look at the miniscule amounts of work they’re actually known for out of the hundreds or thousands they’ve created.

Good art is not made to be popular. It’s meant to be an Instagram account with 226 followers and 13 likes, 0 comments, per post. Good art is all the social media accounts and people you’ve never heard of and never will hear of. It’s the unpopular art, hidden in the cracks of a broken and unforgiving, unfavorable, algorithm. Good art is not found on a Google list. Good art can, however, be found in every other place. You can find it in kindergarten classes where small children will draw giraffes in boats in space with chalky, unsaturated, crayons. In high school art classes where students learn value and shape and form. It can be found in the sparkling eyes of a toddler picking up an instrument for the first time and being absolutely horrible at it, but at least they picked it up. They did something most adults who are put on lists can’t do. They were fine with being horrible and bad because they know no limits yet. The artists on lists already know their limits; I mean, they’re on a good-art list after all. You can’t get much higher than the top, can’t get much better than “the best 16 artworks.” Good art can exist without popularity, because any art for the sake of art, for the sake of creating, is good. You cannot be bad at creation, at art, if you do it for the right reasons. If you do it for yourself and for the artists that despair in the knowledge that they will forever fail to be as popular as the artists on lists. That is the only way to create good art; fail and be unpopular, get put on no lists and, to the best of your abilities, keep all of your limbs. But, if you want to create popular art that will make your name be somewhat known for a few decades, then I suggest starting with a surgical implement, and, maybe, a limb or two.