Action Jackson

Learn to love questions and helping others find more!

Creating equine realism definitely isn't easy and the learned skillsets take years to develop—and sometimes we need help. Happily for that, help can come from anywhere, even in genres not related to ours! I can't tell you how much I've learned from monster design to special effects make up to prosthetics to collage to graphic design, for example. 

To that end, becoming and staying a pro-active learner is a great thing because it keeps us hungry and our work evolving. Wonderfully, all we have to do is reach for that new information enthusiastically, translating into research, attending classes, workshops and seminars, reading peer-reviewed papers, lots of comparative study, artistic exercises, watching videos, amassing references and analyzing them, blog reading, forum discussion, and on and on—always asking questions, staying curious. Luckily, too, the Internet is a wealth of information from how-tos to presentations to analysis on color genetics, anatomy, conformation, and biomechanics, artistic technique and creative philosophy. It's all out there at our fingertips just waiting to be mined!  

Being so, it's a good idea to indulge these avenues first before vetting assistance, especially from a working artist. Doing our homework first is critical because remember who you're sourcing and their limitations—a working artist. And all a working artist has is time—that's it, their most critical and limited resource. It's the single factor that lets them refine their art, do their own research, produce their art, and make their art in the first place to earn a living. Yet assisting someone who hasn't done any homework at all can be inordinately time consuming, and that can be a serious time sink. 

Now this isn't to say that helping someone shouldn't be done. Absolutely not! It's also not to say that seeking assistance is inherently inappropriate. Definitely not! And it's not to say that helping rote beginners isn't a good idea either. Nope! Sometimes, helping them can be some of the most satisfying ways to spend one's time, especially when they're earnest and invested. I also believe that helping others is our obligation, that we should "pay it forward" when we can. The more artists who reach their potential elevates all our efforts since the more brains that work a problem means more solutions. 

But it does suggest that there's a necessity to come to the assistance with a better idea of what's involved than absolutely, utterly nothing. Why? Well, "a damp sponge absorbs more than a dry one." In other words, if we don't know some degree of what's involved, whether through study or observation, most of what's going to be shared may not be fully understandable, if at all. It can go right over our head! And the more advanced the lesson, the more this is the case. Additionally, much of our help can only come online and that has its own limitations. Also, talking at a beginner level can be tricky for a seasoned artist since so much can be inadvertently taken for granted. However, to be fair, it can be a good lesson for them to do just that from time to time to clarify ideas and processes and, perhaps in doing so, refine these things further. The best way to learn how to perfect something is to teach it! Plus, beginners often come to the problem with totally fresh ideas, making learning symbiotic. What a wonderful thing!

Keep in mind, however, that each potential teacher is different as is each learner. Everyone comes to the table with different artistic styles, personality traits, motivations, and expectations—and sometimes we may not be a good match. Yet it's important that each party be simpatico in order to foster a good working relationship. So if that match isn't suitable, it's okay to give thanks and move onto someone else who may be a better fit. Put another way, forcing a bad fit can antagonize both parties, making the likelihood of help less forthcoming.

Put all this altogether and in congeals into a pretty good rule of thumb: Try not to present uniformed questions to working artists and try not to force the situation. Truly, a basic working knowledge of the issues at hand will gain the most out of the experience and make the most of everyone's time. Also, be highly specific, and the more advanced the issue, the more specific the question. For example, don’t ask something like, “How do I sculpt a head?” That's far too general and big an issue, often an enormous undertaking to even address. Sure, the teacher can dole out a few simple, starter suggestions which can work great, but that has its limitations, too. So often the better tactic is to take what you already know from your homework, and just do it in order to figure out what specifications you need the most guidance on. Because it's usually better to ask questions that beg quicker, more concise, more helpful answers. For instance, “What are some alignments of the head I can use as guides?” Or, "what tools are best for sculpting the head?" "What shapes are best visualized for sculpting an eye or nostril?" "I'm having this x-problem with my heads...do you recommend some trouble shooting?" Or, "what clay and solvent to you recommend for x-kind of work?" Or "How do you achieve more symmetry?" The more specific the question, the more practical the answer, and the more likely we'll get an answer and quickly. 

On that note, it's not a good idea to impose too much on a working artist's time and energy. They're usually very busy running their studios and have done their own hard work to earn their skills—and it’s important we do the same. Really, only when we truly get stuck or confused or overwhelmed is their advice best applied. That means continual questions that eat up more and more of their clock is a surefire way to create friction. But this isn't due to vindictiveness, it's out of necessity. A working artist simply cannot afford to help so often. This is usually the reason why some artists, being so busy, tend to be rather succinct in their help, simply offering useful links, books, lists, or articles for our own edification. It's just a reality with their limited time resources. Yet this is also why many artists have already compiled lists, articles, books, or blog posts on common subjects that would answer many of our questions. To tell the truth as well, it's important for learners to struggle and work things out on their own. It encourages pro-active learning, experimentation, and valuable lessons on arting. There's value in having knowledge earned rather than just handed out. This isn't to say we should let learners struggle needlessly though. It's to acknowledge it can be worthwhile to wrestle with our skills every so often, and that goes for seasoned artists, too.

Above all though, try to avoid assuming a seasoned artist is being unfair, hostile, secretive, or mean if they opt out of helping. The reality of that working artist may mean their resources are already stretched quite thin so offering help simply isn't in the cards. Everyone has their reason and assuming the worst isn't only unfair, it can poison the well. 

Again, let me repeat that I believe we're obligated to help others in their arts. It's good for them, good for us, and good for the community by advancing our arts and building cohesion and commonality between us. It's just that we need to approach it with a bit of investment on our part in a way that works with the limitations of the situation. That being so, helping others and seeking help can also be a terrific way to build relationships, personal and professional, which can be immensely rewarding all 'round on many levels. And in this rebirth of the DIYer, helping others is even more critical than ever! The next generation of artists are our future and we cannot let them wither on the vine if we hope for all this to flourish. In this spirit then, it's all the more reason to better understand what's involved when seeking that help so that more beginners are less intimidated asking for it and more seasoned artists are prone to providing it. 

One of the great things about this genre is its propensity to share information. Truly, it would be wonderful to see this even formalized into annual artist retreats or workshop events to balance out the competitive-heavy theme of our social gatherings. I dream of a day when such things will happen in equal measure as shows. Not saying competition is a bad thing! But it would be nice to have another facet of participation, and one that coincidentally happens to facilitate participation in that competition at the same time.

That said, a mentor program is a completely different situation to all this, one which I'm not speaking to. Mentorship is a wonderful avenue for helping others that's often much more time-rich than cold-calling a working artist. For that, Mares In Black has a terrific mentorship program that may be of interest to you.

Anyway, there you have it. Hopefully some useful advice for getting advice. My best advice in all this? Stay curious. It encourages enthusiasm, fun in learning, exploration, and fresh thinking —always positive things. Seek, stretch, ponder, and rethink. And apply what's learned from others and make it your own. Don't be afraid to put your own spin on things! And pay it forward whenever possible. Consider this too—one of the best ways to learn is to teach! Want to know where your knowledge gaps are? Teach. Want to know where you can improve your process and Eye? Teach. Want to learn current theory and new hypothesis? Teach. Want to bump your work to the next level? Teach. Want to truly fathom a subject on deeper levels? Teach. So whoever said "those who can, does; he who cannot, teaches" was so very very very horribly wrong! Instead, I prefer Aristotle's wiser take, who said, "those who know do, those who understand, teach." So beginners, don't be afraid to seek help! Just frame it in a way that'll best cultivate the situation. And seasoned artists? Do what you can to further the efforts of others. It's rewarding in its own right as well as for you. Collective learning is what people do best and fostering it enriches our community in countless ways, planting seeds that will grow and spread deep roots that will blossom a nicer garden for us all. 

"True teachers are those who use themselves as bridges over which they invite their students to cross; then, having facilitated their crossing, joyfully collapse, encouraging them to create their own." ~Nikos Kazantzakis

Gathered Wisdom

Creating our art can be a roller coaster ride of triumphs and frustrations, elation and discouragement, enthusiasm and self-doubt. We seem to be traveling this strange, unpredictable journey where we self-actualize both our potential and ourselves in partnership. As such, it asks for inner reflection and outward seeking which can certainly be fascinating, but it's also a bit overwhelming to be honest. Whatever this journey is about, and it's different for each of us, it never seems to end, does it? An endless, hidden trail that winds and dips always into unknown territory.

It can be helpful then to have a toolbox of handy advice to keep close to heart, guiding us on our curious journey and helping us stay centered and eager in our creativity. Just for that, I've been lucky to have picked up some great tidbits over the years from other artists, teachers, friends, and family, even random strangers. I've also learned some "art life hacks" that keep me going through the ups and downs of that emotional roller coaster. So I'd like to share all this hoping these morsels will feed you on your creative trail since we all need nurturing words to sustain us from time to time.

Ten Guides

To start, I've gleaned ten core ideas from others that have kept me moving in the right direction. Truly, whenever I start to feel like I'm spinning my wheels or churning out junk, or even questioning why I'm doing any of this at all, I go back to these ten and re-absorb their wisdom. Hey, sometimes we have to backtrack a bit because it's easy to get a little lost in our meanderings. For that then, these ten dollops of insight are...

• Your pencil has an eraser—use it! It's okay to change your mind.
• Let things evolve. The piece will tell you what it wants—don't fight it.
• Never go part way. If anything you purposely neglect now will bug you five years from now, fix it.
• Know when to say "done." We only improve when we create lots and lots—and lots—of finished pieces.
• Anything can be made less intimidating. Simply envisioning things in familiar shapes, lines, and forms can do wonders.
• Start simple and then get more complex. Creating something is a progression—be patient, keep at it, and give the process "room to breath."
• Never be married to something. Everything we do should be open to change to forward the whole concept.
• Try to be kind to yourself. Allow yourself the foibles of the learning curve and the fact that every artist will periodically create bad pieces throughout their career. Give yourself permission to be human. Learn to forgive yourself.
• Protect your joy. Do anything it takes to preserve the visceral enjoyment of arting. Take a break if needed. Switch gears and create in a different way, even with different media and types of art. Just keep creating, whatever form that takes.
• Never rain on someone's parade. Each of us is creating our art on our own terms, at our own pace, with our own evolving Eye. And the will to create art can be a very fragile thing. So if we're kind to ourselves, be even kinder to others.

It's no surprise then that when we absorb this good advice, we tend to have an easier time on our creative journey. We essentially become more serene with our process, ourselves, and with others, and that's just as important as learning a new technique or refining our Eye. 

Five Foundations

While I've been lucky enough to have learned the Ten Guides from others, I've also been able to solidify Five Foundations that work for me—and maybe they'll work for you, too. Now some I learned through observation, but others I absorbed from someone's role modeling. Curiously, role-modeling can be a powerful thing even if we don't see its effects right away. Some planted seeds just take more time to grow. So that said, the Five Foundations are...

• Always actively observe. You never know what you can pick up with open eyes, ears, heart, and mind because useful information can come from anywhere. Truly, sometimes the best lessons come at us sideways. And learning isn't always about technique. Our methods can only take us so far. Indeed, even if we used the very same tool or the very same media or the very same method as an esteemed artist, that doesn't mean we'll be producing the same caliber work. The truth is that the deeper learning is that which refines our Sight and our ability to Translate that into our media. What tools and media we use are important, of course, but they're only the means to express our Understanding. 
• Mistakes aren't to be feared but embraced as teachers. It may be a cliche, but practice truly does make perfect. We have to do and redo, fail and fix, over and over and over and over again for even one bit of progress to be made. But don't become despondent if that progress doesn't happen where you wanted it—it was made, but sideways. The more we start and finish, the faster we grow even if that growth isn't always predictable. Just go with the flow and keep finishing. Also don't forget that every piece will always have ugly stages—so keep going. Trust the process, trust the references, trust yourself, and keep going. A lot about achieving the desired result is successful follow through, of going far enough in the process to achieve the effect you want. Curiously, there's such a thing as "underworked" just as there is "overworked."
• "Comparison is the death of joy" says Mark Twain. He's absolutely right. Fight the urge to compare your work and accomplishments to others as it'll only cause a kind of death inside, a kind of grief. Frustration, envy, resentment—these are the things that poison our every well and leave us feeling defeated and cast aside. They deceive us and whisper lies in our ear that we're inadequate, untalented, unsung, and wasting our time. Yet time is always well spent being creative! And you're far more talented than you know and have far more potential than you suspect! So instead, be proud! Own it! You beat your own drum and march to your own tune, and no one in the entire Universe makes your music or even could if they tried. It's absolutely worth all your hard work, sacrifice, and enthusiasm. So do good work consistently and always seek improvement, and it'll all come together.
• You're only as good as the last piece you finished. In other words, try not to judge your abilities on work you did ten, five, even a year ago. They represent a very different situation in your life than the right here and now. So instead, gauge your abilities based on the piece you just finished right now, and then with your next piece, try to improve on that if you wish. And understand that improvement is incremental, and it comes in fits and starts. And even the tiniest improvement can lead to huge jumps forwards—you just never know. So keep reaching for that brass ring even if it seems relatively insignificant. And truth be told, breaking up our development into baby steps tends to create a friendlier framework for taking those big leaps anyway, so don't hesitate to deconstruct things a bit. Anyway, understand that our progression is always happening—even when we're not working—so what we create today is a much better read on our abilities than what we created yesterday. There's great hope in that, isn't there? So much potential! So don't short-change yourself by making assumptions based on past work.
• Find the still point in your heart and in your head to create your best work. Distraction is a funny thing...it saps our energies and causes us to stray from the moment, the critical here and now that's everything to an artist. What does this mean? It means that whatever your creative situation, learn to stay in the moment between yourself and your piece. Seek to quiet those voices that seep into our heads from social media. Put on music or a video that lends white noise to help you get into that groove. Put on noise-cancelling headphones if needed. Your creativity is your healer, your rejuvenator, your own personal headspace that's all yours. Do whatever it takes then to protect that zone because that's where you not only work best, but you feel best working. It's your sanctuary. 

One Truth

Smoosh all that together and we have a pretty good "arting hack" to foster our creativity and even more importantly, for staying creative. Because it's so easy to just throw up our hands and be done with it, isn't it? To walk away to find some other diversion. Or perhaps it isn't. Perhaps this brand of creativity is stuck deep in our drive and so all our frustrations do is remind us of our perceived inadequacies. Either which way, disappointment, the kind we self-generate when we don't meet our own expectations, is always with us whether we're a beginner or a seasoned artist. That toxic brew of self-doubt, insecurity, deflation, stirred by those little unpleasant voices, will always try to poison us no matter how much we've achieved.

Yet at the same time, we're human, right? Why are these things that seem to drag us down framed in such a negative way then, as though they were enemies? They're a part of us, too. Maybe, instead, they're there to keep pushing us to reach our potential, to ask more of ourselves as a challenge to grow and explore. Think about it—without them, would we even work half as hard to stretch? If we were continually pleased with out work, where's the impetus to improve? In a sense, they're the grain of sand in our oyster, fashioning our skills—and ourselves—into a pearl. And that's the crux of it, isn't it? When we have to face our fears—pull them near and look them in the eye—we have to make peace with them, and we have to make peace with ourselves. 

Because truly, we cannot war with ourselves if we hope to truly progress. It takes up too much mental energy that should be focused on other things. It's also emotionally painful and, if bad enough, can create a feedback loop that begins to associate creativity with negativity. But the problem isn't us per se. The issue is the nature of the learning curve, and that issue is the same for everyone. See, "learning curve" is a misnomer. It's not actually a smooth, steady curve. Boy, is that bogus! Instead, it's like a tangled up ball of yarn, unpredictably going up, down, sideways, backwards, squiggly weird, loopidy loop, criss cross, knots even!, twisty whisty, and any which way but straight forwards. What's more, there's a proverbial cat also batting that ball all over the place, pupils wide and tail whipping 'round. Creativity is chaos itself. What we literally do as we improve then is to wrestle ever more of that chaos into something more closely resembling what we envision. Our expectations and our abilities get closer and closer together.

Because what a "learning curve" also doesn't address is how different aspects of our knowledge base and skillset will improve at different rates. Yanno...if there weren't enough fans on this fire, we have to add this one, too? Gah! But it's true. For example, what we see in our head may be very sophisticated, but our abilities with our tools, our media, our mental library, and our Translative skills just aren't up to snuff yet to fully realize that vision. What's the result? A big blob of WTH in front of us...aaaaaaaand then, of course, frustration, disappointment, deflation, insecurity...and those little voices again. If we don't recognize this for what it is—the unavoidable glitches in a learning curve—we're going to inevitably deduce that we're simply incapable, that what we're doing is a waste of our time and care. But going back to the Ten Guides and the Five Foundations, we remember that "Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts." Wise words from Winston Churchill. We must do and redo, fail and fix to fail and fix again, learn and relearn over and over and over in order to reach our expectations. And every little improvement—many of which we won't notice until after the fact—are cumulative and build on each other in a wonderful synergy of accelerated growth. There's no such thing as a "small improvement!" Each one is a huge leap forwards. Celebrate it! You did it! "Each horse is practice for the next," is great wisdom a dear friend told me years ago which I keenly remember as I start every new piece—and look back at every finished one. Honestly, knowing when to say "done" and having the courage to start a new piece is perhaps the single most important trait for an artist in this genre.

But if we can see that our hiccups are a learning curve eccentricity rather than a reflection of our innate abilities, perhaps we can keep all those voices from fanning something even worse inside us—fear. We're human beings. We have dualities. As such, our natures are torn between curiosity and fear...and fear usually wins if we aren't very careful with our assumptions and reactions. "Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi." "Fear is the mind-killer." Rudyard Kipling also observes, "Of all the liars of the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears." And, of course, from the little green man himself, "Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." 

Distill it then and it all comes down to fear—fear of our assumed inabilities, fear of failure, fear of getting stuck, fear of what other people will say, fear of biting off more than we can chew, fear of not being as good, and on and on. Fear can be a bottomless well it seems. But all the established artists have faced their fear, in all its forms, defiant against its many tactics, and have come out the other end singing. Yet fear is never conquered outright—it has to be fought again and again. This being the case, perhaps great artists aren't born but made through deliberate self-actualization only because it takes more than talent but also equal parts moxie and gumption. And each of us has far more of that than we may realize if we just believe in ourselves a little bit. Because here's the thing—we don't have to have this amazing confidence. We don't have to know what we're doing all the time, or even part of the time. And we don't have to see exactly where we're going every step of the way. We just have to believe in ourselves a little bit. 

So that's the one, last Truth: believe in yourself, a little bit more every day. Luckily, the Ten Guides and the Five Foundations will help you on that journey. Practice them relentlessly and it'll become easier and easier to believe in yourself and trust in your potential. Now granted, that may seem totally incredulous when we're stumbling or totally screwing up on a piece. But the truth is that these moments usually herald a breakthrough, when our expectations and abilities are about to take one more step towards each other. Because we're struggling for a reason, right? If we didn't struggle, we'd still be operating with our old paradigms, yes? It's only when we're about to jump to a new one that our skills start to itch! So trust in yourself and forge ahead, full steam! If needed, seek other inputs through new research, new references, even critique from trusted sources. Just keep moving forwards.

You'll also probably find a greater composure and serenity in your work when practicing these ideas. "Like water off a duck's back" is a quip I often say because I like the idea of our stresses rolling right off us, unable to gain a grip. Really, it helps to eliminate as much stress as possible from our studio life because serenity works to generate the Zone that lets our creativity resonate at its best frequencies. It's like the sound-proofing that keeps the noise of the world out. But serenity isn't necessarily a product of great confidence—it's a product of complete acceptance. Acceptance of being human—that mistakes will be made, but we can fix them and learn from them. Acceptance that patience and work are the way towards merging our expectations with our abilities. Acceptance that not everyone will like our work, and that's okay. Acceptance that everyone is on a different learning curve and that's a good thing. Acceptance that our fears are part of us, but also a part that needs careful management and even more kindness. Acceptance of all the things we cannot control because learning happens in its own time and pace. Acceptance that no artist can produce perfection. Only Nature can do that. All we can do is our level best at that moment, and that's all we can ask of ourselves—and that's more than enough. And above all, accept that you and what you create are worthwhile even when you feel the most despondent and alone. It may be really hard to believe at that moment, but trust me—it's true.

Put it all together then, and that's a pretty good map for blazing your own trails on your own terms! And maybe over time, you can discover your own guides. Each of us represents a unique experience, so it's likely you'll find new pathways unique to yours. There's no wrong way! There's only your way and if that way feeds your good vibes, that's the best way there is! Happy trails!

"The most splendid achievement of all is the constant striving to surpass yourself and to be worthy of your own approval." ~Denis Waitley