Well you can't teach the poetry, but you can teach the craft.

In the sacred realm of creation, there is a profound truth at the heart of every great work of art—be it poetry, painting, or music. David Hockney distills this truth when he declares, "Well, you can't teach the poetry, but you can teach the craft." These words echo through the ages, reminding us that the artistic soul cannot be taught directly; it must be discovered and nurtured from within. The raw inspiration that drives an artist to create cannot be imparted through instruction. What can be taught, however, is the craft—the technical skills, the structure, and the discipline that allow the artist to bring their vision into the world. The true artistry lies not in learning the words or the brushstrokes but in honing the tools that transform raw emotion into form.

The great ancient poets knew this truth well. Homer, though considered the greatest poet of his age, did not merely inherit poetry as a divine gift; he spent years in the discipline of crafting his epics. Through the study of the heroic tradition, the use of meter, and the refinement of his language, Homer’s genius was forged in the fires of craft. The stories he told—the Iliad and the Odyssey—are the product of a lifetime of learning how to craft a poem, to weave its rhythms, and to guide the listener’s heart through every word. It was his deep understanding of craft that allowed his words to carry the weight of history and humanity, transcending time and place.

In the same vein, Leonardo da Vinci, a man whose genius is the stuff of legend, did not simply emerge as a master painter and inventor by divine inspiration alone. While he was undoubtedly a visionary, his true mastery came from an unrelenting commitment to the craft of painting. His studies of human anatomy, his exploration of perspective, and his practice with different techniques were the foundation of his artistic genius. Leonardo’s works, from the Mona Lisa to The Last Supper, were not born of mere instinct; they were refined through years of discipline and learning. Craft, for him, was the means by which he could express the inner workings of the human soul, the divine beauty of the world.

In Hockney’s words, there is an invitation for all who seek to create—not only artists but anyone who wishes to make something lasting in the world. Poetry, in this sense, cannot be taught because it is the very breath of the soul. It comes from the heart, from the deep yearning to communicate the ineffable. Craft, on the other hand, is the structure within which that yearning is given form. It is the framework that allows an artist to take the abstract and make it tangible. It is the discipline that allows the poet to transform fleeting emotion into words that endure, that will resonate with others long after they are written. Craft is the tool that gives the artist the power to make their vision real.

The lesson to be learned from Hockney’s insight is clear: while the soul of the artist cannot be shaped by anyone but the artist themselves, the tools of creation can be learned. Poetry does not arise from the classroom; it arises from the heart. But the ability to craft that poetry, to shape it with precision, to polish it until it shines, that is the work of dedication and study. Similarly, in all artistic endeavors, it is discipline and practice that turn raw inspiration into something of enduring worth. Michelangelo did not simply carve David from stone by sheer instinct; he honed his craft, learning how to manipulate the marble, how to bring form out of the rock, until his vision was brought to life.

In your own journey, whether as an artist, a writer, or in any field of creative pursuit, the lesson is this: Do not seek only the inspiration or the spark of genius—embrace the craft that will allow that inspiration to flourish. Dedicate yourself to learning the skills that will give shape to your vision, to your ideas. The tools of creation are at your disposal, but they require patience, study, and a willingness to persevere. The genius of the poet, the painter, or the musician lies not only in their initial vision but in their commitment to the craft that brings that vision into reality.

As you walk your path, remember that great art is a combination of inspiration and discipline. Allow your soul to be moved by the depths of emotion, by the force of the divine that stirs within, but also take time to refine your skills. Just as Homer, Leonardo, and Michelangelo shaped their great works through dedication to their craft, so too must you give attention to your tools, your technique, and your practice. By doing so, you will not only honor the spark of creativity within but will also craft something that endures through time, resonating deeply with those who encounter it.