Reversed Rivalry: The Power Of Shared Success

 

Introduction

So — you want to make it big in the equine collectibles world, huh? You want to make a big splash and become a nice big fish? But, hey, what artist doesn’t? It’s good to be a big fish. You garner nifty opportunities and connections not afforded to others, you enjoy certain privileges that come with being of a certain stature, you tend to earn more openings, and gallery and company relationships, licensing deals come your way more easily, and your sales improve as the regard for your work amplifies and expands.

But the truth is we don’t do this with skill and talent alone. Nope. Those things will only take you so far, particularly when it comes to earning real opportunities and relationships. And there are plenty of highly skilled and talented artists out there who fail regardless, so those factors just aren’t enough to get you going or sustain your momentum. Why? Because to actually become a big fish, it takes a lot more than going it alone — you need a community-minded attitude. 

Indeed, I’ve seen so many artists blow apart their potential not because they were incapable artistically, but because they underestimated the power of connection, even abused it. They got into feuds, they lashed out, or just generally behaved as a persona non grata that not only put off collectors, but also professional peers and companies as well. So what could’ve been valuable professional networks and lucrative company contracts simply dried up, and all because the concept of shared success wasn’t appreciated and practiced. 

Shared success? Yeppers. Those at the top of the game are collaborating, not competing. They’re building up, not tearing down — or more specifically, they’re building each other up rather than tearing each other down. Absolutely, if you want to succeed, you need to share your success! Without a doubt, sharing is the highest form of participation be it sharing information, doling out kudos and support, giving credit, lending a helping hand, providing a referral, or actually creating work together. In other words, the big fish keenly understand the power of shared success and actively seek to spread that around with their peers at every opportunity.

Conversely, those at the bottom compete, the lowest form of participation. Lowest? But the equine collectibles niche market is founded on competition! How is competition a problem for artists? Now yes — that’s quite true. We're an art form founded on comparative competition, let’s face it. However, that doesn’t mean this focus is the best one for the actual artists creating the work. See here’s the thing: While the collectors enthusiastically compete in the ring, the artists themselves do better with a different perspective. Why? Because competition between artists is fundamentally toxic and founded on inferior motivations. Honestly, one-upmanship and art rarely mix well. Insecurity, professional envy, resentment, annoyance, frustration, humiliation, disillusionment, despair, or perhaps even a flat out feud will poison the well, no matter how well-meaning that competitiveness may be. Unfortunately, I've seen so many competitive-minded artists really muddy their own experience with their cutthroat drives, usually ending up miserable, confused, and embittered on some level. There's this, too: The need to beat another artist smacks of insecurity and fear, definitely not a good look, and few good things come of that in the long run. On the other hand, the truly poised and confident artist doesn’t care one wit about beating their artistic peers as opponents. They’re too focused on improving their own work on their own terms, building bridges, and thinking up ways to elevate the art form for everyone. As such then, you can tell a lot about an artist’s character simply by which category they fall into — pay attention.

In the hopes then of inspiring more community-mindedness to improve our own chances at a happy future, let’s talk about the power of shared success and how we can dampen artistic dueling to create a more beneficial and balanced atmosphere for everyone.

Reversed Rivalry

The fully developed artist isn’t only skilled and talented, they also know exactly where any form of rivalry should exist: Within themselves. It’s them pitted against their older work and their worn out conventions and blindspots, not them pitted against their peers. As Ruelle sings in her song, Rival:

The tide is high

It's sink or swim

My only rival is within

Giants calling round the bend

My only rival is within

I won't let my demons win

My only rival is within

I will fight through thick and thin

My only rival is within

Kingdoms rise and kingdoms end

My only rival is within

This is where it all begins

My only rival is within

The tide is high

It's sink or swim

My only rival is within

That’s the headspace of the secure and successful artist! So if you want meaningful progress and actual evolution, you’ll be striving to better your own work rather than beating the work of others. You’ll also seek personal growth by inverting your focus into your own portfolio rather than gauging your worth through comparison with others. “Comparison is the death of joy,” as Mark Twain observed, and he’s absolutely correct. Without fail, with comparison usually comes envy on some level which is soon followed by resentment and disillusionment, things hardly conducive to sustained happiness and meaningful growth in the studio. If it gets really bad, in fact, you can even compromise your own Voice, a devastating blow for the unique purity, authority, and power of your work.

Now this isn’t to be confused with being inspired by the work of our fellows. Honestly, this is a wonderful thing! But it’s to remember that your fellow artists are your colleagues — they’re your innovative inspirations and fellow trailblazers to be supported and learned from, not your rivals to be crushed. Always remember that the truly successful artist seeks to elevate the art form, and a great way to do that is to look to peers as beacons of revelation and kindred souls. Hey, we’re all in the same boat, right?

Cheerleading 

This brings us to a very healthy behavior with our fellow artists and within the community at large: Cheerleading. Become a cheerleader and advocate for our artistic community — talk up work, show it off, share it on social media and in your business networks and social circles, and give referrals regarding the availability and talents of your peers. When we lift up the accomplishments of our fellows, we’re not only building a more cohesive arts community, we’re also role-modeling better behavior, building bridges, and, even better, potentially making someone’s day. It’s just a win win all the way ‘round!

So when an artist posts a finished piece or ongoing project on their social media, or an award, a triumph, or any sort of accomplishment they’re proud of, slather on the praise, talk it up, and share it within your own circles. Spread the love! Imagine what a positive and supportive landscape we could build if we're cheerleaders for each other!

The thing is, too, cheerleading also encourages people to actually take up our arts. Like, they see the positive reinforcement for arting and maybe that’ll inspire them to ignore their hesitations and just try it. And if we’re working to expand and elevate this art form, we’ll be writing or filming how-tos, or hosting how-to get-togethers even, to help others achieve their potential, also making a tremendous resource for beginners. In this dynamic way, sharing our success can actually grow the arts base and who knows how that’ll elevate the art form over time! Indeed, feed the arts and you also feed your own potential in the long game! Which brings us to…

Sharing Knowledge

Sharing success also means we share our knowledge not just with each other, but with beginners, too, to give them a leg up in this very difficult art form. So become a teacher, give seminars, host workshops, retreats, or classes, write or film how-tos, write an educational book, blog or vlog, become a depot of continued education, or mentor a beginner. Any which way, share what you’ve learned from your techniques and materials to your creative sensibilities and suppliers to your knowledge base about equine color, structure, and movement. The whole kit ’n’ caboodle! Because really — why are you holding back? Dig deep — why?

Because the truth is that confident, progressing artists share, they don’t hold back! They keenly realize that anything shared is going into fresh, new brains that’ll put their own spin on that information and probably in innovative, novel ways to ultimately come back to them, improved and refreshed. In short, they know all too well that whatever they share will come back upgraded to improve their own work. Hey, it’s an inevitability when so many brains work the same problem! But this is exactly why the artists most open with their methods and materials tend to evolve and grow the fastest — they understand the power of shared learning. Absolutely, we’re so much better together than apart!

Indeed, great artists rarely grow in isolation. Creating our work may happen sequestered away, but artistic growth hardly ever does. For instance, seeing how other artists tackle challenges, even how they process mistakes and techniques, can be immensely illuminating, or observing how they translated the same lesson in a wholly different way can be so insightful. Then having conversations with fellow artists can help us along our Path, even inspiring us in ways we never imagined. Really, what seems like a small observation from a peer can become art-changing for us! Indeed, observing how other artists work and interpret the subject can bust us past our own worn-out habits, leading to whole new levels of achievement and sustained growth in ways out of left field. But perhaps most helpful of all, community reminds us that we aren't alone in our struggles and confusions inevitable in the creative process in this difficult art form. We clearly see that every artist struggles, processes, and evolves, just like us, a deeply affirming realization. Honestly, if you really want to bust past a plateau or level up your work, stop trying to go it alone all the time! Dive into community, whatever that means to you, gleaning and giving back what you can in that creative symbiosis that elevates everyone's efforts, including your own.

There’s this, too: When we share what we’ve learned, we also have to plug up our own knowledge gaps and attend to glaring blindspots to provide others with the best information we can drum up at that moment. Honestly, there are few better ways to learn than by becoming a teacher ourselves. In all these ways then, when we endeavor to help others, we’re really helping ourselves in pro-active, tangible ways. It’s no coincidence then that those artists who pro-actively spread knowledge tend to become the most knowledgable themselves.

The Benes

According to many gallery professionals, the vast majority of gallery representation, show openings, and contract work are garnered from professional referrals, not from “cold calls” so to speak. That’s to say an artist or collector recommending another for representation, a show, or a contract has a much stronger influence than a portfolio from a complete stranger, or even an agent promoting their client. It’s not just a matter of who you know, it’s how you know them. This means that being a well-liked, respected, relatable, and well-known professional is more important than we may realize. Because it’s going to be other people who open the door, right? So it’s the artists who keep showing up for other artist’s openings, who celebrate their peers and colleagues, who make the introductions — their names are the ones that stay front and center, and so it’s usually them who get the most opportunities. 

And it's not necessarily because they’re “networking,” it’s because they keenly understand that art doesn’t exist in a vacuum — not the making of it, the promoting of it, the showing of it, or the selling of it. It’s a community that creates the art market, and you truly need to become a positive part of the community to earn the most opportunities. And here’s the thing: When you dedicate yourself to promoting others, you become a happy force in that community, and people notice — the right people notice — and with your good reputation, they’ll want to associate with you through new projects. To that then, always remember that your brand reflects on theirs, and if you do a good job curating your brand, it’s amazing how many new doors will open for you. Indeed, there's no savvy gallery owner, agent, company, or collector who’ll want to associate with someone known for problematic behavior, personal or professional. Heck, even one ill-advised outburst can destroy everything you built! Truly, I've seen more artists wipe out a good reputation with a single bad post than I care to count, so learn to self-regulate like a boss. In short then, if you behave like a liability, you’ll find those doors quickly closed tight, but be nice, play nice, and support your fellow artists, and you’ll go a whole lot farther. Because when you’re well-liked and respected by the community, you’ll find more support whether from professionals, fellow artists, or collectors. This is one of the big reasons why feuds are far more costly than they appear on the surface — you just don’t know how many doors are shutting tight against you in the larger community when you act out! Not a smart move! Remember this, as Einstein advised, "Weak people revenge, strong people forgive, intelligent people ignore." Words to live by when you're building your bridges.

What's more, being an active part of the community also gives you access to a bigger pool of news and knowledge from details about materials and techniques to those events where the collectors are congregating. Other artists also understand your frustrations, self-doubts, fears, challenges, and your triumphs and defeats, and with their wider net experience, can provide some real tangible help. Fellow artists also likely know who or what might be a good match for your work in terms of gallery representation, shows, collectors, commissions, contracts, or museums, and so make no mistake, other artists can make or break your opportunities. Don't treat them poorly! Just as importantly though, being an upstanding, supportive and active part of the community tends to bring opportunities to you rather than you having to chase them down, always a blessing and a bit of a relief.

So always honor the practice of helping, supporting, and uplifting other artists. They’re not your competition, they’re not your opponents. They’re your colleagues and peers, and in supporting them, you're helping to build a ton of positives in our genre. Indeed, vision, skill, and talent are rarely the problem. Those who get stuck are often overflowing with these. Instead, the real problem is that they’re trying to do it solo, not understanding that getting their art out there successfully is also a social dynamic built on support, reputation, and reciprocity.

Public Image

All this brings us to your public image, the baseline for your success. Indeed, the smart artist astutely knows that all behavior is a function of their brand, their public image. That’s to say positive, professional behavior builds our brand whereas problematic, unpleasant, or combative behavior destroys it. And be careful with what groups you follow and people you associate with — people notice and it will blowback on you. Because here’s the thing: No matter how you spin it, negativity is negativity, and when it comes to selling art, negativity will whip around to bite you in the face, especially in our niche art form. You see, the work created by the most well-liked artists — likable as themselves, that is, not just well-liked work — tends to sell the best and earn the most opportunities while those with sketchy public images will have a much harder time of it. Remember, people usually support those artists they personally like and avoid those they don’t. Why? Because when they buy art, they also buying a part of the artist to have in their lives — art is a reminder, a memory — and so that memory should be uplifting for sustained good vibes. Never forget that our work is a representation of us and so it should embody all the best of who we are.

Now this isn’t to say that toxic positivity is the answer nor is it to say that being fake-y to be liked is necessary. Nope. Absolutely not! You must be authentic and sincere, be genuine. Rather it’s to say that being a jerk, being tone deaf, being a problem, and having problematic associations has its consequences, which can be far-reaching as it expands exponentially through the grapevine. Just not a smart move.

Conclusion

The fact remains — who you are as a person will make or break your standing and opportunities in any art community. In other words, the community is a microcosm of the world as people gravitate towards those who radiant goodwill and away from those who exude toxicity. In short then, don’t be That Guy as that will assuredly compromise your opportunities, potentially burn bridges, and diminish the performance of your work in the market. In contrast, those who propagate altruism usually have the opposite experience in spades, so get out there and start spreading the good will! When we share our success, we aren’t only building a more solid community, but a better future for ourselves as all that good juju gets reflected back onto us, often amplified. 

Never forget that art doesn’t exist in a vacuum — it needs a community to support it. So when we foster that community, we’re actually cultivating a better future for everyone involved, including ourselves. Quite literally, what’s good for our community is good for us, too! So elevate others! Indeedy, the more positive, supportive vibes and information we pump out then, the more we get back to improve our own situation with improved work, expanded opportunities, deeper and more expansive relationships, stronger bridges, higher regard, and a host of other positives that come no other way. So never hold back when you feel that compulsion to spread the love and education! Success is really meant to be shared to uplift those around us and we can absolutely help that along in wonderful, tangible ways.

Ultimately, it’s those who understand the community-minded power of shared success who end up being the most successful in the long run. So never be miserly in your kudos or information, but splatter that good stuff all over the place! It’s good for your standing, good for your long game, good for your potential, good for the community, and most of all, good for your heart. It just feels good to spread those happy vibes around, doesn’t it? So reverse that rivalry and share your success, and you’ll soon reap great rewards from such positively-minded community participation! Your art deserves the success and our community deserves all that good stuff — so let ‘er rip!

“If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself.”

— Henry Ford

Reversed Rivalry: The Power Of Shared Success

Demonslaying 101 Part VI

We’re back with Part VI of Demon Slaying 101, the wrap up. Since Part I we’ve explored different psychological quagmires that can get dredged up every time we create, focusing on the three seemingly most common ones of imposter syndrome, negative bias, and self-doubt. The thing is, these three can manifest in different ways with different artists which can make it seem like we’re each an isolated psychological island. We’re not. The challenges with creating art are similar and so the emotional load we each carry — our fears, doubts, anxieties, and regrets — is similar. So while our course is ours alone to sail, we sail a crowded sea! So many little boats. We’re kin. We're the same tribe. And therein we have a support system, but only if we’re willing to reach out and share of ourselves, yes? We can share our coping strategies, hard-won insights, and nuggets of wisdom to patch each others’ boats and come to see that even the very seasoned of us still struggle. Our battles are shared battles and there are ways to do battle better.

This, too, is critical to understand only because those demons never truly vaporize and never fully shut up. We can muffle them, we can sit with them, and we can even use their words to fuel different outcomes, but they’ll be periodically noisy in our heads. Part of our progress then is learning how to continue despite them and all established artists have mastered that hard-won, unspoken skillset. In this though, each and every one, whether they know it or not, has made a choice: To accept the noise rather than quit to avoid it. And they face that choice again and again. Yet consider this — which is actually more powerful? The love of creating our art or the discomfort that’ll inevitably come with it? As Elizabeth Gilbert remarks in her TED talk, the love of her art was stronger than the pain of her failure and so always “called her home.” May you always find your way home. For this then, I highly recommend these TED talks — seriously, listen to them closely and take them to heart:

Elizabeth Gilbert

Success, Failure, and the Drive To Keep Creating

Your Elusive Creative Genius 

Brené Brown

The Power of Vulnerability

Why Your Critics Aren’t The Ones Who Count

Now in that spirit, let’s reconsider these demons because if we just spin things a little bit, they become a backwards reflection of some pretty fantastic things! For starters, they prove that we’re intent and conscientious artists who are passionate about what we do. Hey, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t beat ourselves up so badly, would we? Nope! We’d be indifferent and bang out shoddy workmanship and hit artistic plateaus without a care. That says a lot of great stuff about us and our art, doesn’t it? Similarly, these demons steer us away from becoming arrogant, dismissive, or from taking things for granted. Really, it’s not such a bad thing to stay a little shook, to second-guess ourselves every so often, to have some uncertainty and doubt filter into our process. It keeps us honest, hungry, resilient, and quick to reconsider things, and that means we remain pliable, adaptive, evolving, and authentic. Confidence is a fine thing to be sure, but unchecked confidence risks a kind of hubris that invites chronic blindspots.

Even so, these demons can be brutes, can’t they? But in giving us a beating, they also show us how to be gentler with others, to become more generous, empathetic, supportive, and understanding. Imagine how much nicer a community we’d have with more of that? This isn’t to say that beating ourselves up now has an excuse, but if we pay attention to the bigger lesson as we ease up on ourselves, it wouldn’t have been in vain. Because, let’s face it, while we’re punishing ourselves, we’re also given the power to stop, right? To learn to be kinder to ourselves as well in turn? To cut ourselves some slack, too? It starts with a choice — as these things always do — and that choice can be shaped into a habit which can then grow into a frame of mind. Just keep at it.

Furthermore, if we learn to harness these demons to check and balance our progress, we gain an inner dialogue that can more strategically guide us. Really, our inner voices are our first chorus of critique, aren’t they? So why not put them to work! Because if we can more objectively evaluate our work and establish goalposts with their input, don’t we have the unprecedented opportunity to make huge leaps forwards? What does that mean practically speaking? Well, turn that inner critic into pro-active study, into research, exploration and artistic exercises. Don't just take it sitting down — convert it into action! For example, workshops, classes, seminars, and even visiting sculpture gardens and museums are a terrific way to gather buildable ideas for our inner critic to chew on. So yeah — okay — we don’t like what these demons are saying? Prove ‘em wrong! Or even better, prove ‘em right! Better? Yes! It means we made a precious mistake and — bam! — we’ve just learned something. So think of our inner demons as a gaggle of opportunities we can tap into for growth, artistically or personally.

These demons can also help us find new ways to gauge self-worth by teaching us the perils of seeking validation from others, shaping us into more confident, composed, centered artists. Because the thing to remember is this: The problem isn’t that these inner voices speak, it's how they speak, how strongly, cruelly, and persistently they speak that’s the real issue here. Everyone has inner doubts, but those with particularly harsh, loud, and insistent inner voices can become paralyzed, for good reason. So learn to manipulate them and we do that by dissecting what’s fueling them deep down. Did someone plant a bad seed in our childhood? Did we have a surprising failure rock us to our core? Did we lose our joy along the way — how? Have we gotten swept up in trends that don’t mesh with our sensibilities? If we’re feeling behind the times or overlooked, is that our insecurity talking instead of our reality? The thing is, these inner voices can also be thought of as a warning bell, an alarm that’s telling us something is very wrong in how we’re doing things. In this way then, these demons can actually lead to a reconciliation with those distracting things that impede our happiness to strengthen our dedication to our art in the long run.

It’s also crucial to remind ourselves that it’s going to take a lot of tries to take even one step forwards. None of it — the learning curve, success, fame, innovation — will come easily. In fact, some of it will come quite by accident or as a surprise, and a lot of it will come with curiosity, sacrifice, persistence, discipline, moxie, and hard work. There’s a lot of chaos involved in all this — nothing is predictable and so nothing should be expected. Always go into anything in this activity with intention without expectation. Stay as open as we can. Create work that we love to create and have fun making folks happy, but always remember to enjoy the experience and to learn whatever tidbits it offers along the way. That’s it. Yes, it’s fun to daydream about all those ribbons and even hope that one of our pieces will finally put us on the map, but it’s a crazy world out there with a lot of great work and a lot of different opinions. There’s also a lot of opportunities to explore all these things in different ways so stay open to happy opportunities that can help us share and grow. And talk to other artists about these issues. Get these concerns out into the open to raise awareness and find connection because we can find a lot of strength and wisdom in each other.

It also bears mentioning that creating great art rests on something unspoken: Sacrifice. A lot of it. We don’t talk about this often enough. Our development isn’t just what we put into it, but what we’re willing to carve out — time, money, resources, energy, or anything else we have give up to more fully invest ourselves in our task at hand. Indeed, we have to buy the materials and equipment — and good quality ones. We have to put in the time — tremendous amounts of time. We have to pour in the energy, discipline, and focus — inordinate amounts. We have to invest in our libraries, travel to classes, and pro-active research and innovation — oodles of it. And all that’s gotta come from somewhere, right? Even from our social life and family life and our ability to buy other things. Can we do this? There is no right or wrong answer here — we each have our thresholds — but how we answer can sometimes pre-determine the nature of our progress. Because if we cannot make those sacrifices, our development can be slowed and we need to make peace with that. Honestly, there’s just no way we’re going to progress at the same rate as someone who can more fully sacrifice what’s needed to make those leaps. For example, I’ve sacrificed an active social life to develop my art — that was deliberate. I’ve also invested in my reference library and in travel to workshops, classes, and retreats rather than buying other things. I’ve burned countless hours in research and study, and artistic exercises as well. And because teaching is a great way to learn, I’ve also sacrificed tremendous amounts of time, resources, and energy writing educational articles and blog posts and helping to run RESS. Every step forwards isn’t a manifestation of what I put into it then, but also what was sacrificed to allow that step to happen in the first place. Not enough folks understand this equation and so get frustrated when their development pulls up short compared to others. This isn’t a reflection of their skills per se, but an indicator of their investment level. Because — yes — traveling to that expensive class may be just the ticket to our improvement, but unless we can do that, we’re going to get stuck behind our own learning curve for a longer time. And that’s okay! Not everyone can just throw life into the wind, especially if we have families, work schedules, pets, financial limitations, and other obligations. The point then is this: Our assumed “ineptitude” isn’t necessarily our innate abilities but is probably more a function of those life constraints that keep us from making those sacrifices that would lead to developmental leaps. Quite literally, "that's life,” not us, and we need to keep from beating ourselves up for the wrong reasons.

Altogether then, our ultimate outcome all depends on how we want to react to these inner demons— and that first starts with a choice. We have to choose to keep going every single time we hit a bumpy road or even fall down. Get up. Dust off. Keep going. Again and again and again. Do that often enough and all that internal turmoil will begin to morph from an obstacle into fuel. All that unease and doubt can transform into conduits for confidence, better forms of validation, a healthier sense of self-worth, a way to foster gratitude, and a wiser approach to all this. They become a call to action rather than a robber of intent. Ultimately, those artists who prevail with any degree of sanity have found a way to coexist with their demons by developing counterbalances to stay centered. And those artists who excel even further have found a way to turn each of their fears into an asset that propels them forwards. For instance, fear of failure turns into research which morphs into creative exploration that ultimately accepts failure as part of this cyclical process. Or the poor feedback we get that makes us feel worthless, overlooked, or angry, we turn that energy into letting go of peoples’ opinions and the need for their validation to dive deeper into creating work that pleases us more freely and enthusiastically. Or instead of fretting over another artists’ success while we meet with crickets, work to develop our Voice more robustly to make our work more distinctive and exciting. Or if that monster self-doubt starts yakking again, we moxie up to meet the challenge, throwing down a gauntlet in front of ourselves. Heck — maybe even decide to do something completely out of left field to add more fun into the mix! Sometimes creative boredom can masquerade as a pesky action-stopper because it’s certainly amazing how heady inspiration can bulldozer right through any lingering sense of dread. So it’s all about conversion of the negative into a positive. Instead of denying that energy, transform it! Absolutely, if we can convert negative energy that impedes us into something positive we can use, we reestablish mastery of our experience and hopefully regain enthusiasm in our work. We’ll probably even end up happily surprising ourselves! 

Because here’s the thing — your art needs you. It simply wouldn’t exist without you creating it. No one in the full breadth of the Universe past, present, or future could ever be its pathway — you are its one and only conduit. That really important. That means something really special. So believe me when I tell you that your art matters. Even when things seem so pointless and devoid of joy, it still matters. In fact, it matters even more. Hold onto it closer and even if you don’t trust in yourself, trust in your art. Because as it needs you, you need it, right? For your own deep reasons, your art feeds something wonderful inside you, fills you up and makes your inner light shine just that much brighter. It really doesn’t matter then what others think of all this, does it? After all is said and done, other voices are really just incidental. This relationship has only always been — and will always only ever be — between you and your art. You represent a beautiful duality, a marvelous symbiosis of you and this astonishing, unique energy within you. You give each other strength, affirmation, meaning, and purpose. Meditate on that for a moment to remember just how amazing and precious that is.

Yet despite being bonded with our art, the act of creating something can still exist on a precarious edge, a fine tightrope to walk every step. That urge, that joy for arting can be endangered so quickly and easily, can’t it? Even just one careless comment — even from within ourselves — can inflict a pile driver of damage. And when that happens, that’s a very real crisis that speaks directly to our humanity, to the very root of who we are. Sure, we can tell ourselves “I’m just being mean to myself again,” or “I shouldn’t take things so personally” and perhaps that works at times. But in those cases where these fail, we need a first aid that only comes with a fuller understanding of our internal landscape as it relates to our art. In a very real sense then, we’re tasked with strengthening our bond with our art, entwining that connection so strongly and densely that it’ll weather anything life could throw at it. We need deep roots. So in this way, our art asks us to get to know ourselves better, doesn’t it? Asks us to work on reconciliation, on acceptance, on exploration, of rethinking and revisiting, and a host of other personal discoveries that help us reveal more of what we’re made of and who we truly are. As such, our art invites us to become more authentic versions of ourselves so it can be a more authentic version of itself — and it will always welcome us with open arms no matter who that authentic you turns out to be! As we do this then, we may learn to identify those thoughts, habits, lifestyles, and arenas that harm us, helping us to stake out a new inner peace and balance. Sometimes those parts of ourselves and our lives we don’t need anymore can camouflage themselves as a distracting demon — dump those aspects and we dump those demons, too.

When we get to this point then, we’ll probably find a goodly wad of chutzpah — because we need it. Lots of it. Guts. Daring. Spunk. Moxie. Grit. Tenacity. Audacity. Cheek. Pluck. Call it what you will, but it’s the nitro needed for our fuel. Because joy isn’t enough. Joy won’t protect us from the negativity onslaught but crumble, even disintegrate. What we need is something much stronger, something deeper, something when fostered to full robustness, becomes indestructible. We need love. In the deepest sense, creating art is fundamentally an act of love which is why it feeds the soul so beautifully. It’s why arting can be such a sanctuary, a rehabilitation, a re-fueling. So feed that love and we feed our art, right? But what we may not know is that love itself needs huge chunks of daring to really make it go boom! Just like it takes a tremendous amount of courage — of a willingness to make ourselves vulnerable — to love someone, arting does, too. So to keep our courage up, let’s remember five things. First, our art needs us just as much as we need our art. It needs our energy, our tending, our love, and our dedication — it cannot exist on its own. And in return for life, it offers us so much more — and we’re worth that. So second, our art is worthwhile —  we’re worthwhile — even if our demons insist that isn’t so. They’re lying. Our art is truly worth fighting for so get back into the arena and start swinging! Third, more people than we know are rooting for us because they love our art. They may not always speak up or we may not always hear them, but trust that they’re there and they’re waiting in bated breath to see what we crank out next. Fourth, being able to practice our art is a blessing, a gift. Yes — it’s easy to short-change ourselves because self-love can be really difficult at times granted, but we must remember that it’s through our art that we can find healing in all this, too. So just keep creating. And fifth then, understand that the more we art, the easier arting becomes, and the less we art, the harder it remains. So the solution for a dry spell? For fear and doubt? Just do art. Take a big gulp and do more of it. Creativity feeds on itself, inspiration propagates itself, discipline refines itself, and moxie shores itself up. Feed all that with love and our creativity becomes unstoppable, even by those demons trying to tackle us.

“The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.”

~ Ben Okri

So protect that creative conduit and nurture it into unbounded growth! It’ll take work, it’ll take dedication and self-gentleness, and it may even make us uncomfortable at times as only the journey of self-discovery can, but trust the process. That light at the end of the tunnel was never a train, it was our art leading us with a lantern urging us onward. Don’t stop! As Churchill advised, “When you’re going through Hell, keep going.” When we’ve got a strong bond with our art, a better understanding of our authentic selves, a hefty dose of gumption, and a bold trust that we can make it through, we become the train plowing right over our inner demons.

Becoming demonslayers instead of hapless victims of our own design is just as crucial as learning how to use clay or pigment. In some ways then, the more telling — but backwards — measure of personal success in our niche perhaps can be achieving a robust amalgam of coping mechanisms because it means we’ve done something of note and we did it boldly and courageously. We “showed up” as Brené Brown would put it. And in doing so, we’ll learn that our boat is ours to navigate in our own waters, and with some insights and learned choices, we can ride out any stormy sea with relative ease to preserve our creative joy. 

So ultimately, our inner demons only have as much power as we’re willing to give them. But the thing to remember is this: They’re never going away because they’re the other side of the coin of our creative joy. All life is balance, right? So here’s the thing: Our inner demons may be manifestations of our darker selves, but that doesn’t mean they’re our more truthful selves. Cynicism, doubt, and negativity isn’t a function of being more genuine or more grounded in reality. Indeed, if they’re the other side of the coin, then there’s optimism, hope, and positivity on the other side that’s just as valid, right? Don’t let those demons dictate your reality! Don’t let them convince you that they’re speaking the real deal because, by definition, they cannot. Always wearing blinders, they simply can never see the full breadth of who you are and what you’re made of and how amazing your talent truly is. So if they start welling up again — and at times they will — remember this absolute fact: For every awful burden they bring, there’s a counterpart that’s just as true and real only we’re forgetting about it. Remind ourselves more often of those wonderful things as a habit — seek them out, focus on them, internalize them — and it’s brilliant just how quickly our creative frame of mind can change. It’ll take effort and constant vigilance, of course, but we got this. Sail n' slay on!

“Your art doesn’t exist to support you. You exist to support your art.”

~ Kiki Smith

Demonslaying 101 Part VI

Demonslaying 101 Part V

We’re back again in Part V of Demonslaying 101, a discussion on those psychological challenges artists face when creating their art and presenting it to the public. This is a rather complicated set of issues to be sure, but they do tend to distill down to similar ingredients only because creating art boils down to similar ingredients. So let’s explore more in this Part V…

Now let’s talk about the white elephant in the room: Competition. Our niche is wholly unique, isn’t it? There’s just nothing else like it and that’s pretty cool! But the mere act of injecting competition into our arts places an enormous — one could say ominous — weight of pressure on our artists. Not that’s there’s anything wrong with competition! It’s done a lot of amazing things for our arts and people really enjoy that aspect of it, which is awesome. The point is then that we need a firm grasp of the realities involved and an arsenal of coping mechanisms or we’re going to get into big trouble fast. Because here’s the deal: Humans are competitive by nature. Know it or not, even the non-competitive really are. That’s because the drive that feeds competition can take many forms from competing with others to just stretching a little farther in our knowledge base. That drive to seek more, to achieve more is even at the root of our curiosity, for example. “How far down the rabbit hole can I take this?” is really just another way of saying, “I want more.” Many direct that drive into formalized competition like we see in our genre, but some artists aren’t so well served by adopting that for themselves all the time, and for some, not at all. See, turning our colleagues into competitors, into opponents, begs problematic outcomes if we aren’t very careful. For one, it can create an antagonistic environment for creativity and social interaction. When our aim is to blast away our peers with armfuls of ribbons to find self-worth — even in good fun — we’ve gone down a darker path. And what happens when that fails to happen? What happens when we’re the ones being blasted? It cannot be overstated how important it is to disconnect our self-worth from a ribbon, as counter-intuitive as that may seem in our genre. Honestly, when our system has no consensual standards is reason enough, when there’s no judge training is another. The real crux is this though: Ribbons are just manifestations of someone’s mercurial opinion which may have nothing in common with our knowledge base, our Eye, our goals, our artistic sensibilities, or a care for our journey. Again, placing our self-worth into the cheese grater of public validation only invites disappointment at some point. Can we process that well enough? Second, competition brings with it the inevitable outcome of comparing our achievements with those of others. We can see their awards stack up, can’t we? We can see the fanfare over their wins as the crowd heaps on kudos, all of which makes the lack of these things for us howl even louder. In turn, believing that we’re overlooked and ignored can lead to resentment, anger, and bitterness — how could it not? And it’s depressing if we come to believe we’re simply not as talented as our peers. What a toxic brew! Unless we can navigate our way through these reactions then — particularly with shows that really matter to us — our arting is a train wreck waiting to happen. And third, defeat is always inevitable. Nothing wins all the time, forever. There will always come a time when our work won’t win, or even place well…or even place at all. What then? What will we have to fall back on when that happens? When our self-worth is founded on public opinion — sure — that can fuel us for a time, but it’ll inevitably backfire. Are we prepared to cope with that? Then fourth, building our self-worth on competition is a slippery slope since every opinion out there has a different idea of what our best work actually is. What’s more, our own opinion of what our best work is may not jive with public sentiments, and lemme tell ya, that’s an odd place to be! So add it all up, if we can seat our self-worth into a form of competition that serves us more directly — such as competition with ourselves — we’ve gained a measure of poise and control. Yes, we may like to show our work as a means for feedback, which can definitely be useful, just be sure to maintain a healthy perspective on the nature of that feedback — it’s not gospel, it’s not written in stone, it’s not the end all and be all of the world. It’s just one opinion. So always keep things in perspective and learn to glean what useful tidbits can be found, and let the rest slough away.

Now — yes — certain pieces and certain artists tend to rise to the top. There is some measure of consistency at times. Yet in the grand scheme of things today, these are more rolls of the dice than bankable outcomes, aren’t they? Plenty of extraordinary pieces by esteemed artists don’t win or even place, and with quality so high today, it’s becoming harder and harder to predict which will win the big satin. Again, many artists find it better to inflect competition inwardly so they’re really competing against their past work, against themselves. Then meditating on their relationship with their work, the nature of it, the making of it, the purpose of it, the advancement of it brings with it a more trusty, positive support system because it addresses why we’re doing all this in the first place. Seating our self-worth into our journey instead of someone else’s journey — through their opinion — just seems a much better prospect, doesn’t it? Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t consider theirs when it serves us — because it can — just maintain perspective. Regard everything from a step back. The fact is, too, that our work is 100% truthful. It’ll clearly show when we’re lazy, hurried, or struggling, when we hold back or go full bore, when we hesitate or jump in recklessly, when we’re confused or confident, when we’ve made developmental leaps or our knowledge base has gaps — it’ll show the truth of our process over every inch. Pay attention to our past work along with our references, artistic exercises, solicited critiques, and pro-active education, and we gain everything we need for useful feedback.

“To the critic, art is a noun…To the artist, art is a verb.”

~ David Bayles

Each artist throughout history could write a library of personal journals on the making of their art. There’s just so much stuff to that experience, it would fill page after page if we were so inclined. To pare it all down really then, all art is autobiographical — every tool stroke, every creative choice, every bend to a leg speaks of the artist’s internal landscape. Yet at no point will a critic (or judge) truly know the full breadth of that landscape with any given piece. Ultimately, they’re only ever interested in the finished product and how it’s seated in The Grand Scheme of Things. To the critic, our art is an object, a personally-removed thing plunked down in front of them for evaluation against their own sensibilities and prerogatives, their own independent measuring sticks. As such, the artist and the critic exist in very different worlds that while they do have some overlap, they’re essentially at odds with each other. Consequently, we can make the mistake of assuming that the artist’s opinion on their work is subjective whereas the critics’s opinion is objective, but the truth is far more complicated. We’re human. Biases, knowledge gaps, sensibilities, prejudices, fixations, obsessions, tastes, and any number of factors all influence the nature of an opinion, even that of the critic. Indeed, if the purpose of the critic is to evaluate a given work without the full backstory of its process, then by definition that opinion is incomplete at best, or arbitrary at worst, right? Now it could be said that this is all but inevitable for the critic’s position — and that’s true — as scooping up the full backstories on each piece in a show would be a monumental task that would simply bring it all to a screeching halt. The critic has to pare things down just to get their job done. What’s the takeaway then? To keep all this in mind when our work is judged. They don’t know the whole story, do they? And perhaps we don’t want them to know it all. Sometimes the artist wants to keep some things for themselves. Plus, if the audience is largely only interested in the finished product, so shouldn’t the critic who serves it? We also have to consider this — people will like or dislike our work for their own reasons. It’ll simply affect people based on their own sensibilities, not ours, and that’s a fine thing. So think about leaving the door open for people to interpret our art on their own terms — learn to let go of our experience so others can have theirs. In many ways then, being an artist asks us to clutch tightly onto each work in the very act of creating it but when it comes to display, we’re asked to let it go. This strange place we’re plopped into time and again can never be truly reconciled, only tolerated. Like with Stormwatch. His narrative was thusly: He’s an escaped nondescript ranch horse which is why he’s a gelding and his feet are reforming into their wild form. He’s an old soul in transition, attuning to his new-found freedom and power symbolized by the wildness and force of the storm winds whipping around him, so many possibilities swirling around him now. But his freedom comes at a price — he’s responsible for his own wellbeing now, that daunting prospect rumbling in the dark storm clouds above. Is he shook? Nope. He’s Mr. Cool Cucumber, taking it all in stride. His time with humans has taught him a level-headed stoicism that will serve him well in his new life. And a curious new life it’ll be as he won’t fit into either a bachelor band or a family herd. Will he be forever a loner? Or perhaps he’ll find new friends in unlikely places? Maybe. But he’s not a Mustang. He's not a Brumby. Never was. Yet some people have ignored his actual narrative by insisting he is, even turning him into a stallion to force the issue. The true nuance of the piece has been completely lost on some — and I have to let that go. I know what Stormy means to me, but I have to let him mean other things for other people. It’s not easy, but there it is. And so it is and will be with each piece we ever create.

 

On that note, writer Henry James formed three questions in relation to an artist’s work. What was the artist trying to achieve with their piece? Were they successful in this? And finally the whomper: Was it worthwhile? Yikes! To have it all distilled to this is rather daunting, but the truth is this is exactly what we need to be asking ourselves with the completion of each piece as a means for improvement and introspection. We’ll have our own answers, of course, but here’s a tip — let some time pass before applying these questions. When we’ve just completed a new piece, bask in the awesomeness of that! We’ve earned it so wallow in the achievement! Then as the weeks, months, or even years go by, reconsider it. It can be hard, but applying those questions — with some distance — will do our growth good. This exercise also reaffirms our commitment to our art, a sentiment we’ll definitely need to lean on during tough times in the studio. Indeed, if there’s one thing a demon hates most, it’s us remembering and embracing our dedication to our art.

Our chosen art form is founded on technical accuracy by definition, which is quite the challenge, of course, but learnable with study, practice, curiosity, discipline, and keen observation. It’s also a fascinating dance between abstract interpretation and organic reality since how our subject appears in real life can be quite different from how he appears on an anatomy chart. (And for a discussion on those issues, check out my blog posts Now About Those Anatomy Charts Parts I & II.) That’s because in life, anatomy is messy and surprising, full of curiosities and novelty as organic structures leverage and articulate, morph and jiggle, stretch and pull, smoosh and goo, pooch and squish, and twist and bend. So while —  yes — the skeleton can only articulate within set parameters, when it comes to flesh, we’re talking about smooshy, organic, responsive variability. Likewise with color and pattern, there are genetic tendencies and markers — yes — but there’s also a lot of surprising life in between! This means we have to learn the biological rules and also how to bend them — which is a lot to juggle — but it’s a dance that’ll get lost on some folks. The truth is some just won’t notice all the little touches we put into our work in this regard — they don’t See them on the living subject and so won’t See them in our work, or worse, they may assume our work is wrong because of it. This is particularly true of work that portrays life’s eccentricities, serendipities, or moments since prevailing sensibilities tend to be rather conservative and conventional, “safer.” Our audience has actually been conditioned to favor conventional formula, a baseline version of “what looks right” as a default. It’s totally understandable though because life is, well…it’s a big subject. For example, the preferred way to convey anatomical structure is with smooth surfaces and highly defined, formulaic musculature even though this is an artistic style among others. Anyway, so there isn’t too much room for options or even portrayals that hug realism closer like, for example, with hide textures (butt wrinkles, anyone?). Moreover, that watered down version also has a hard time perceiving the highly technical precision needed for areas like the joints, legs, hooves, or head, or all the little details and esoterics that add so much life and factuality. Only a geek looking for these things is going to infuse them into their work as something of value and really only another geek is going to See them. But that’s the thing we’re going to have to reconcile: We may geek out on anatomy or color and pattern or breed characteristics or whatever, but some folks just won’t See it. Oh, they have some inkling that something might look right or wrong, but for the finer points of it all, it’ll go right over their head. Some may even pushback. And that’s fine! It’s okay to geek out and it’s okay that others don’t get it. That’s life, right? It’s an educational opportunity really if we think about it, and it’s a chance to push boundaries out even more. But — yes — it can be frustrating to put so much effort into all those little touches that add so much flavor and realism to then have our work misunderstood. But again — who are we creating for? An authentic artist will create the work they’re called to create despite it all. It’s not easy, but creating disingenuously is even harder to live with.

Now as for our past work — which can often cause those demons to really screech — don’t worry, it’s common to cringe at our earlier pieces. It’s normal, natural, and expected. New work is supposed to supplant the old and supposed to show our past newbness. Just remember this: As much as our old work may make us shudder, there’s always — always — someone out there who absolutely loves it for their own reasons. Let them enjoy it untarnished. And hey — we should be kind to other artists, right? Well, that includes our younger selves too! We were very different artists back then who deserve just as much courtesy and compassion as we show others now. There’s this as well — every single piece we did, good or bad, was a stepping stone to where we are today. Each one contained essential lessons for placing us exactly in our current learning curve and that’s worth some respect, right? Let’s face it, the learning curve for this art form is massive and unending, convoluted and complicated, and asks a heckuva lot of us every single time. So be kind to ourselves every step of the way. And here’s the truth of it: Only we can create the art we do. Since the Big Bang, no one has existed just like us — we are wholly unique therefore so is our art. No one — even if they studied our work and tried to duplicate it — could ever create it exactly as we do. Only ever a facsimile, they cannot make the same choices in the moment, the same tool strokes, act on the same spontaneous whims like we would. Our work is wholly us and will only ever exist if we create it. That’s important. When those demons try to convince us of all the awful things they insist then, remember that and hold it close as impetus to keep going.

Our demons thrive on isolation, that is to say, they wield more power if they can convince us that we’re alone in our struggles. But they’re liars! The truth is that every artist shares them in some form. And though we may be a captive audience, that doesn’t mean we can’t yell back or, even better, that we can’t muffle them. Now granted, that’s not so easy as our demons intimately know all our most vulnerable fragilities, those hottest buttons to push and they push them enthusiastically at the slightest provocation. But just remember this: Whatever they’re screeching to us, they’re screeching to someone else, too. Probably many others, in fact. And doesn’t simply knowing that shift the balance of power back into our hands quite a bit? Strength can be found in solidarity! Really, their power is definitely diluted if we know it’s the same old sad song for pretty much everyone. For example, when they sneer that we’re a failure because we made a mistake…well…so what? Everyone fails! Everyone makes mistakes! And everyone has a little voice in their head that’s going to belittle them for it on some level. Heck, I can guarantee Leonardo da Vinci had to bark back at his! Or when our demons try to convince us that we’re just not as talented as so-and-so, know that everyone — even the most gifted among us — looks up to someone else’s work as an unattainable goal. Yearning to have someone else’s gifts is a universal and very human thing to do. Similarly, our demons can torment our muse, leaving our inspiration tattered and floundering as we struggle with motivation. Yet every artist’s muse fluctuates during the process every now and again — it’s just a normal part of arting. Those demons can also be quite convincing when trying to get us to quit, when they beat us down so much, we just want to give up. But we’ve all been pushed to the brink at some point, even those who seem to create so effortlessly. Now what does all this mean? It means that we’re always one decision away from blasting past our demons because so many prove it is doable every day. If we need to reach out for support then, there are many out there who fully understand our struggling headspace. We’re all sailing the same sea! Time for a yacht party?

Let’s end it here for Part V then in Part VI, we’ll take what we’ve discussed and reconsider these demons in a new context. It’s interesting how just a little bit of a spin actually results in some welcome and surprising new interpretations! In the meantime then… Party on, Garth!

“Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it.”

~ Salvador Dali

Demonslaying 101 Part V