Demonslaying 101 Part IV

 

Welcome back to Demon Slaying 101, a discussion about the internal battles artists can face when creating their art. We’ve covered quite a bit of ground already so let’s just careen in for more in this Part IV! Let’s go!…

From the near beginning, humans have made art. Before just about every other artifice of human endeavor, there was art. We’re driven to create because we’re a creator species. And though our art will never be perfect, there’s something about making art that feeds us, suggesting that our vulnerabilities are part of our creative process, too. They’re not separate factors to be deliberately carved out but to be folded in as part of our Voice and what helps to make our art so special. In this sense then, our vulnerabilities are really strengths, aren’t they? As Brené Brown observes, “To create is to make something that has never existed before. There’s nothing more vulnerable than that.” So to realize that making art is an act of tremendous vulnerability is to accept the imperfections in our art and, in so doing, also realize the fragility of the creative experience. In this, only those artists who can make themselves vulnerable, who lay themselves bone bare each and every time, will be the ones to grow. What does this mean? It means taking risks again and again, in whatever form that may mean to us. It’s also an affirmation that it takes a lot of courage to present our work to the world which is probably why every artist — no matter how successful — takes a deep breath before a debut, the normal, rational reaction to this act of laying ourselves bare. Without a doubt, established artists are a tough, plucky, scrappy bunch, able to take a brutal beating every single time to get up and do it all over again and again. So isn’t this a call for our niche to be kinder? More thoughtful with our words and reactions? If we want our artists to advance and our arts to thrive and innovate, we need to give them a safer space to be vulnerable. What does this mean? Perhaps chill on the harsh or careless commentary and call out those who do it. Maybe encourage more non-competitive outlets for sharing their creations. Ease up on the uninvited “critiques” that can compromise their confidence and sense of safety. Think about cutting them more slack and giving them more space outside of our own expectations. Remember, too, that like beauty, perfection is in the eye of the beholder so just because a piece may not be our cup of tea doesn't mean it’s a bad piece.

“There’s a myth among amateurs, optimists and fools that beyond a certain level of achievement, famous artists retire to some kind of Elysium where criticism no longer wounds and work materializes without their effort.”

~ Mark Matousek

Now let’s talk about another misconception — that great art and great artists have a mysterious magical ingredient that elevates them to high achievement. Now while this is absolutely true, here’s the deeper truth of it: That magical ingredient isn’t universal, it’s not the same for every artist or work. The fact is each art work and each artist contain their own unique magic, a magic specific to them and only them. The magic of another artist wouldn’t work for us because its not our magic and ours wouldn’t work for them, it’s not theirs. We should stop comparing ourselves to other artists and their achievements then because their magic and journey are meant for them — and only them — and have nothing to do with us, and ours has nothing to do with them. We don’t lack their magic and we don’t need it. We have ours and it’s special and beautiful and no less important. Embrace our magic — it’s ours alone.  

“Comparison is the death of joy.”

~ Mark Twain

Now yes — yes — it’s really hard to keep from comparing ourselves to others, there’s no doubt about that, especially in our comparison-based genre which is founded on reference materials and comparative placings. But here’s what’s happening in our heads: It’s our demons, our worst aspects, that are compelling us to do this because it feeds them so well (and there’s that negative bias again!). Indeed, don’t our worst emotions emanate and amplify from doing this? So why appeal to our worst aspects when there’s so much more to us than that! We have our great attributes, right? We have our passion, our enthusiasm, our eagerness to learn and improve, our joy when creating, our enthusiasm for helping others, our happiness in seeing others succeed, and any number of positives dwelling inside us, too often untapped. Why not feed those instead? So when our demons start making us think, “So-and-so’s paint job looks so much better than mine, my work sucks,” or “I’m such a loser because I didn’t get into that contest,” or “People like Suzy’s work so much more than mine — they’re so stupid and I hate her!,” or “Why can’t my work be as good as so and so, I’m just not talented enough,” and on and on…and on…it’s time to switch it up. Instead frame things this way, “So-and-so’s paint job looks so much better than mine, I wonder what I can learn from it,” or “I didn’t get into such and such contest because the jury was looking for other things than I was interested in creating, oh well, I had fun making it,” or “People like Suzy’s work a lot, isn’t that great for her and what can I learn from it?,” or “My talents need a bit of a tune up to take me to the next level, what can I do to get there?” Make the conscious decision to reframe our experience and make this a habit, and “snap the job’s a game!” Because here’s the secret: If magic isn’t universal but instead unique to each of us, then fixating on making another's magic ours is an imaginary futile goal. It’s going to fall short eventually, even blow up in our face. Instead then, we’re better served by focusing on things that are real — our magic — and seeing what we can do with it. So when we feel second rate — and we all do at times, it’s perfectly normal — dive into our magic with greater enthusiasm and find ways to tap into its well to make it burst forth with even more power. So the answer to this problem? Well, we’ve had it all along! We’ve always had those ruby slippers. And like Elizabeth Gilbert would say, “There’s no place like home.”

Similarly, it’s smart to be careful with our own expectations. Each time we start a new piece, we have this envisioned notion of it — our perfect concept — and throughout the rest of the process, we chase it with our materials and skills. That’s our job, right? But what we do have to be careful with is how we expect our process to flow and how the outcome will pan out. Maybe we wish it to be effortless and that the piece literally creates itself — and maybe it has in the past. Maybe we expect our vision to be realized with 100% faithfulness — and maybe it has in the past. Maybe we predict that our work will meet with wild acclaim and success — and maybe it has in the past. Yet efforts built on one-sided expectations can lead to disillusionment and frustration so stay open to all the possibilities, even the painful ones, to remain grounded. And, truth be told, the proof is in the work, isn’t it? Everything we need to know to improve our skills exists as an open book in our portfolio if we can approach it objectively, without emotion, fear, or judgement — emotional expectation. Further still, the lessons we’re meant to learn are contained only in our work, each piece pointing the way, with our last piece pointing most true. So if we can clearly study our portfolio without emotional expectations, we can ferret out what our work needs to perhaps prepare ourselves a little bit better.

Now can we talk about the myth of “not taking criticism personally”? As much as this is offered as a balm, it’s actually problematic because it's disconnected from the reality of creating art, it ignores the human condition, and it shores up bad behavior. Here’s the deal: Artists are hard enough on themselves already with their inner demons constantly yappin’ in their heads which makes for a lot of noise between their ears. And with all that incoming commentary, well…art by committee rarely pans out well. So adding more distraction into an already cacophonous situation isn’t necessarily helpful but hurtful, and it can actually demoralize an artist if bad enough. Yet we see it over and over — when an artist is at their most vulnerable sharing their piece, in jump the self-important critics trying to “help” or the careless comments that just get blathered out. Wrong! This can beat down an artist so much, they may dump the piece altogether. The thing is, no one ever fully knows an artist’s headspace with that piece so usually the best policy is to just provide a safe, positive space for them to share it. The public already has such never-to-be-pleased expectations of an artist’s efforts so why add to the racket? Because — yeah — the act of creating and displaying our art is an act of tremendous vulnerability, so how in the world are we not supposed to take criticism personally?! As such, it’s typically better to keep criticism to ourselves unless specifically and personally prompted by the artist at that moment; otherwise, only offer positives. (And in the case of a constructive critique, there’s a very specific set of parameters for delivery and unless we practice them, just keep mum.) Preserving an artist’s untarnished joy in their process is more important than “correcting” any flaws. Why? Well, chances are our unsolicited “correction” will come when they’re not ready for it which can jam their anxiety and tension into overdrive, a state that will actually compromise their long-term progress. Odds are though that they’re going to figure things out on their own in their own time — when they're ready for it — so if we give them the safe space to do that on their own terms, their enthusiasm is preserved to keep them happily moving in that direction. Because here’s the thing: If they routinely get bonked when they share their work, that negative feedback loop can be crushing and guess what some are going to stop doing? A positive feedback loop in a safe place, on the other hand, preserves a more open emotional landscape making them not only more enthusiastic in their work, but also more at ease with rethinking and reevaluation for improvement. Truly, if they know they’re safe “out there,”' they tend to take more risks in their studios. And hey — if we think the piece has flaws and could be better, the solution is an easy one: Create one ourselves according to our own vision. Don’t like it? Do it yourself. And we’ll learn really fast what life is like on the other side of the door. (For more discussion on the artistic temperament and criticism, check out my blog post, Pickled Art.) So artists, don’t be afraid to set boundaries and expect others to respect them. Because — yes — we deserve boundaries and, in fact, staying creative may demand it. Now if anyone gives us a hard time for that, ignore them and stick to our guns. Chances are, it’s precisely those malcontents who would have become social blisters anyway, right? So while having our own rules of engagement will mean that we’re selective, it will protect our mental wellbeing and keep us happily arting. Through these rules, too, we learn to avoid those social spaces notorious for being toxic even if they’re immensely popular. We’ll also actively curate our social media to block or boot the tone deaf, presumptuous, or destructive. Our rules also inspire us to be quick with praise and encouragement to become a cheerleader for creativity and likewise role model to help set the tone for our community. Now — yes — there will always be “that guy” in every crowd and sharing our work will inevitably bring with it criticism and careless talk. That’s just life and art, and learning how to process that is a necessary skill, too. Even so, we can still build safer spaces for ourselves that are supportive and compassionate, and full of those who recognize our humanity rather than objectify us.

In kind with this, we learn at an early age that others have the power to strip us of our humanity, leaving us open to bullying, ridicule, baiting, or other dehumanizing treatment. As artists, we re-learn this hard lesson again and again but with ten times more power, especially in this niche which has a lingering propensity for objectifying its arts and therefore its artists, turning them into “things” to be talked about and treated without any real courtesy for the human beings involved. Honestly, people can talk as though we aren’t even there, saying whatever they want without a care for our feelings, hardships, realities, or triggers. So we pour ourselves into our work with the pesky suspicion that it may never be accepted or understood, or even worse, that it’ll be blasted without a thought for us hearing it all in the background. Or on the other hand, if we take risks, if we push convention, formula, or standard expectations, be ready for vocal pushback and disapproval. This can cause some artists to believe they’re actually considered a joke, or that their work is unwanted or subpar, even in decline, when in fact the opposite is true. There’s this effect, too — every artist has a bad art day; every artist will create pieces that aren’t as good as the rest of their portfolio. Even the most talented among us. That’s just part of being human and the nature of creating art. Yet how people react to that one wanting piece can nearly break some artists, even compromise their desire to create in our niche at all. So please give artists room for their vulnerabilities since a lot more may be riding on any given piece than we know, or that piece’s creative circumstances may have been especially difficult. Because we all yearn for understanding and acceptance, yet every time we display our work, we hand over that power to an audience prone to deny it, even pile on dissatisfaction. It’s a terrible Catch-22. Honestly, sometimes an artist can feel like a beaten dog at times. So artists, what’s the solution? Well, just keep making our art on our own terms. Strange how that works, but there it is. Our work may be the target, but it can also be our sanctuary, so lean into it and try to ignore the rest the best we can. How do we do that? Again, nestle deeper into our arting, letting our journey become the loudest part in our heads. If our art is the full expression of our humanity, just keep expressing it stronger through our work when others try to pry it off. Just “art out loud” louder. In the end, we’ll attract a base that appreciates our authenticity and we can focus on them instead. And never forget that there’s always someone out there who adores our “flawed” work all the same. Hold that close to heart. And keep this in mind: Obnoxious toxicity is loud and aggressive by nature, making it seem like the majority opinion out there. It’s not. So for every bit of ugliness we encounter, know that there are many others who love our work who aren’t speaking up or “yelling” as loudly. Trust that they’re there.

Similarly, catering to the opinions of others can fill our head with other voices (often conflicting voices), the dreams and imaginations of others, the priorities of others, and the vision of others. As such, our authenticity and trueness to our vision, precisely what’s needed for our own creative well-being and distinctiveness, can be spun off course or diluted. In this way, too, the diversity and innovation of our art form can be compromised, even homogenized as the demand to conform to conventional tastes of what “looks right” or what "should be” can be quite strong. Too many cooks in the kitchen and committees making camels and all that, and often with conventional ideas that don’t account for reality’s eccentricities, moments, or possibilities. To tell the truth, our community’s tastes can lean sharply towards convention when it comes to such things, like the expression of anatomy, conformation, style, and whatnot, for three primary reasons. First, many have been conditioned by OFs that — by their nature — have to conform to certain baselines for mass production and for marketing to the widest audience. This conditioning also favors certain stylistic interpretations — like smooth, even surfaces and sharply defined musculature — as “correct” when in fact they’re just possibilities within a spectrum. Second, the horseworld tends to be quite conservative in how it likes horses portrayed. We just have to look through breed mags for a good sampling of this effect. And though that makes sense from a real horse standpoint, this influence in our niche can be strong at times and cause some creative friction. Third, even after all this time, general anatomical knowledge still has a ways to go and so some folks tend to default to familiar territory, the safest portrayal, as a means to feel confident. And that’s fine! Technicalities are tricky and can be really intimidating and confusing. But it does mean that, put it all together, other possibilities and the “moment” can get lost on some or worse, rejected as “wrong,” “weird,” or “ugly.” What’s the takeaway here? Artists, take it all with a grain of salt and stick to your guns. Do what inspires you and do it whole-heartedly. Because here’s the thing — if we build it well, the people who “get it” will come all the same and they’re the ones we’re meant to focus on. For everyone else then, leave an artist’s vision alone. It’s ok to offer corrections (when specifically prompted) but we shouldn’t insinuate our vision onto that of another. Respect an artist’s authenticity rather than try to shoehorn them into our own vision with a “it would be better this way,” or “I’d like it to be,” or “that’s now how I’d like it” comment. It’s not your piece, it’s not your vision. Again, if we want a piece a certain way, we should create it ourselves.

Along those lines, there’s a popular belief that if we keep plowing ahead in our authentic Voice that sooner or later the world will reward it. Persevere and acceptance will come our way eventually. And this is often true! The problem arises though when this takes an inordinately long time. Here’s the thing: The audience can be most supportive of those things that fit inside its conventional ideas and can pushback on those that challenge them — and it can also be slow to finally realize that this new thing is actually pretty cool! We see this phenomenon at times in our genre. For example, when I started creating medallions so many years ago, I was criticized as people were confused, resistant, and openly wondered why I was wasting my time with these things. I even had people actually try to convince me to stop. But look at today! There’s also been another artist who chose to depict an atypical phase of a gait for an iconic breed and got a lot of pressure to put it into the conventional pose. She stuck to her guns and banged out a stellar piece all the same. And right now, we’re in the midst of another shift as even the demand for realism is being challenged and so we’re seeing fantasy equines and artistic colors rise to the top — after years of resistance — and it’s freaking brilliant! What a a healthy, freeing development! So the point being we should cherish our Voice — nurture it, let it grow wild and free and unafraid. Don’t let anyone dictate what our vision should be — it’s ours and we should realize it in all its wonderful purity and power. To quote Joseph Campbell, “follow your bliss” no matter what. And trust me — build it and build it well and they will come. So seek to live our Truth to the fullest in our art even if it won’t immediately be understood or accepted. That’s okay. Create our work for ourselves, first and foremost, and tune everything else out as the noise it is.

Artists are always seeking evolution, growth, innovation, and expansion of their skills and scope, which can keep the creative process fresh and fun. And when we try new things, we expect to screw up in the beginning, right? Yet this can be a particular challenge with great success. We see it all the time with music bands, for example. A band becomes famous for a particular style but the moment they want to evolve, they meet with crickets or worse, rejection. So that band is literally forced to stay the same, churning the same old-same old simply to please their fan base. Is it any wonder why so many break up? Or why so many have side projects or take on solo careers? This pressure to conform to accepted expectations is stifling and intrinsically at odds with the creative mind that by nature is exploratory, spontaneous, and curious. And we see it with artists, too — they become famous for a particular work and then every single piece of theirs before or after gets judged against it in the court of public opinion. This is understandable, but nevertheless this sort of comparison can be a problem. Why? Well, it heaps on a new suffocating layer of expectation — another stifling demand to conform — that can cause friction with any new directions that artist takes throughout their career, and which have now been tarnished with hesitation and anxiety. Honestly, fear of the unknown is enough, but fear of the unknown with the suspicion that we’ll be chronically disappointing people at the same time is a lot to bear. The best policy then is to welcome each new piece on its own terms as though it was a total stand alone in their portfolio. The past is gone, it’s over — let the artist have their future in the full breath they’re meant to have it unfettered by comparisons or “but I wish it was more like,” or “I wish you'd do something like X again” yearnings. Trust me — the results will be well worth it in the long run! In turn, artists are best served by following through on their inspirations, whatever they might be, even if they’re straight out of left field. We’ve got to feed our creative explorations first because that keeps us inspired and energized. It’s easy to weigh ourselves down by chasing other people’s expectations, but we really should always start fresh in the right now, present in the creative moment, clean-slating our experience so we can be open to the inspirations that are coming.

Likewise, there’s a fine line between approval and disappointment so be careful with this want for approval, even when it comes from our peers. Why? Because no matter where we seek it, this puts a perilous amount of power into someone else’s hands. Is that really the smartest strategy all the time? Here's the kicker, too: Their aesthetic, vision, priorities, goals, and Eye are still different from ours, even if a closely matched peer. The truth is our dialogue is most pure between us and our work. Sure, it’s not a bad idea to get a critique from a trusted someone, but their reality is still different from ours, and there’s no guarantee their perspective is right either. Remember that everyone has their blindspots! So work to develop a more analytical, objective eye for our subject, our references, our materials, and our piece first before seeking outside input; otherwise we’re going to get lost in the critiquing process. Because here’s what’s not often mentioned with critiques: We should have our feet firmly on our own ground first before any critique can truly help us. What does that mean? Well, to have some kind of vantage point with our own work first, a firm grip of our aesthetic, knowledge base, and goals, or even a critique from the most learned person can confuse us and possibly cause our demons to bellow louder. A firm vantage point also gifts us with clarity, something we’ll need to infuse their points effectively. Because it’s not enough to know, we also have to do, right? The clearer we can See our piece then, the more of their knowledge base we can utilize — or chose not to, which is just as important a decision. Because if we don’t have that vantage point, it’s shockingly easy to get lost in the critiquing process especially if we have more than one critiquing source, and there’s only one place to go after that: Confusion and frustration, two things that feed our demons well.

On that note, like it or not, social media in our genre isn’t necessarily the healthiest place for artists to frequent indiscriminately. And the more popular our work becomes, the more this becomes true. The thing is, nearly all our forums, pages, groups and whatnot are actually more like a comments section we can’t turn off. And what does everyone say about not reading the comments section to well,…anything?! Yeah, that. Only it’s everywhere all the time, and lordy does it tend to be careless and brutal, with zero cares given about the human being behind the art in question. And even if it’s not about us, that’s still a lot of ugliness piling up in our psyche that’s going to fill our head with anxieties. Because artists are masters at internalizing things. We can’t help it — it’s part of what makes us artists. So we should be careful what we expose ourselves to and understand that being selective with our online interactions can actually be a survival tactic. For instance, actively curate our studio pages to weed out unpleasant behavior and don’t be shy with the delete, unfriend, or block button. Take control early and quickly, and keep an eye on it. As for the rest of it, it can actually get so bad out there that just staying away from the major gathering spaces altogether can often be the best decision. Yes, that’s a bit of a bummer, but the truth is our energies are best spent in our studio working or focused on those platforms that are adeptly moderated.

And finally, never forget the power of negative bias! We’ve already discussed how it can skew how we weight commentary, but it works even more insidiously in our studio by doubling its power in a tricksie way. How? Well, it directly colors how we see our piece by amplifying its perceived flaws while ignoring the positives. The parts we dislike are simply going to jump out at us harder and bug us out of proportion to the rest of our efforts. But the thing is, amending those areas we don’t like is exactly how we hone a piece to completion, right? In other words, a finished piece has literally been refined until no parts bug us which is exactly what makes it finished. So great! — we’ve put negative bias to good use. But here’s the tricksie part — when we’ve been working on a piece for a long time, chances are we’re having some frustrations with it. There are parts that just resist “clicking into place” either due to knowledge gaps, skill gaps, or it’s simply not our day (it happens), and so our negative bias feeds on those frustrations to pollute everything like a slow poison, turning our Eye “old and cynical.” When this happens, our piece loses its magic and starts to look strange and awkward — and lemme tell ya, that’s a very odd place to be! It feels more like a cold foreign object than something lovingly made by our own hands, and — boy — can we flip against it quickly at this point! This effect can actually be so strong, we can imagine errors where none exist, amplifying our frustration to 11 and breaking the knob off. At this point, we can dump our piece unjustly or even start to question our talents. In short, the piece falls apart. How many “bad” pieces have been trashed just for this reason? But here’s the thing — none of these flaws register on anyone else’s radar! They’ll think our piece is beautiful and wonderful! Fresh Eyes simply see our piece in a very different light, a way that’s just as valid and truthful as what we’ve come to believe. Now — yes — some pieces just morph beyond rescue and starting over is the best strategy, but there are times when this metamorphosis is more a function of our unchecked negative bias than a truthful reflection of reality. The solution? Renew the magic to refresh our Eyes. Now every artist has strategies for this (which are beyond the scope of this series), but the point being: When we get here, remember that it’s our negative bias at work and so we need to trust ourselves, trust our magic, trust our process, and trust our piece…and keep going. Gut it out. Negative bias makes it all seem like reality, makes it seem so factual and obvious, but it’s really spin, being incomplete at best or a lie at worst. It’s a bad simulation. It’s not the truth, so resist it. Reboot! It takes a lot of mental work — yes — and it’s going to test us, but gut it out, and it’s uncanny, but we’ll surprise ourselves in some happy way on the other side!

So this is the end of Part IV and in Part V we’ll continue with such issues as they relate to creating art in our unique niche art form. Until next time then…keep slaying!

“Don’t think about making art, just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.” 

~ Andy Warhol