The Future's So Bright, I Can't See
Leave It Alone / rear view mirror / spray paint / barbed wire
Art = Life
It always amazes me how much my art process is a direct reflection of the rest of my life. The same principles that move my art forward, move my life forward. And vice versa. I still believe my best work is in front of me, and I still believe my best life is in front of me.
The funny thing is, it doesn’t even matter if I’m right or wrong. It’s survival because the day I stop believing it, my days as an artist are over.
Sure, I could keep making stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same.
I’d just be endlessly recycling what I’ve already done, or floating in the abyss with no direction. The purpose and meaning behind it all would be gone. Even if I wasn’t consciously aware of it, I would feel it. Which means you would feel it too.
The magic of creativity is in the process of what’s going on right now…today…and what’s coming next. Because that’s the fun. That’s the excitement. That’s the best time. It’s jumping into the unknown and seeing what comes out.
Have you ever bought a new car and your old one immediately looked ancient? And you couldn’t believe you drove it for so long? Or you got a new hairstyle and suddenly the picture your friend took yesterday looked like it was from two years ago? Or how about when smartphones came out? Didn’t flip phones look like they came from the dark ages over night?
New ideas are ruthless. They eat their parents.
Running on Empty
After my first art show, I sold a bunch of my best work. I was really excited until I got back to my studio and realized I only had B level work left.
At that moment, I had two options:
1) Try to make more work that was like the stuff everyone liked and responded to
or
2) Let it all go, follow the muse, and see what’s next.
I worked hard getting ready for that show. I had stretched myself to my absolute creative limit. I wasn’t sure what else I had in me. It was kind of scary. After twenty years as a professional musician, I’d suddenly decided to shift my focus to visual work. How was I going to build a life around this? How was I going to beat or even match what I’d done? That was a lot of eggs in a new basket.
I knew I had to find a way. There was no going back.
I had always fantasized about being a visual artist and I knew this was a turning point in my life. I loved museums and galleries growing up and was obsessed with the Impressionists. But I had no talent, and my path as a musician was working out. So I always figured music was my lot. Maybe in another life.
Now I was going against the tides of life.
Or was I going with them?
Get Uncomfortable. Push Forward.
I allowed myself my mini freak out, and I got to work.
I knew I had to make new works that were even better. I had to outdo what I had done.
I started experimenting with new ideas. What else could I do? What else could I try?
Many of my ideas seemed revolutionary and looked great in my head, but when I tried to translate them into the real world, they were light, amateurish and awful.
I tried relying more on the painting and less on photography. I went into uncomfortable spaces. I glued cigarette butts and candy wrappers to free standing doors. I crumpled paper in boxes and laid printed plexiglass over the top. Some worked, some didn’t.
Ideas almost never come out exactly like I envision. But I’m glad they don’t. If the idea was the best expression and the end-all, I could just sit and think all day. Every idea deserves its chance. And the best ideas need to be brought into the physical world. This is how we communicate, share ourselves, connect and ultimately move life into the future.
Pushing forward isn’t easy. And things can go horribly wrong. In fact, for me they usually do. But I always try to remember…if it’s terrible, it’s just a path to the next thing.
Lessons from Tech
Entrepreneurs and tech giants talk a lot about failing and how valuable it is. It’s where they learn what not to do, and lose the fear of failing. This makes them more bold in decision making.
It’s the same in art or any creative endeavor. In fact most artists will tell you that there are hundreds of failed ideas, brush strokes, words or notes buried in every piece of finished art. My work is no different. My life is no different. They are burial grounds for mistakes and experiments covered by new ideas that stemmed from the mental carnage.
I don’t like to be romantic about the past. When I get nostalgic, I’m not necessarily remembering accurately. It’s dangerous for an artist. It’s dangerous for everyone, and our society as a whole. I’m inspired by people who keep going no matter what. Even when there is apparently no hope or good reason to do so.
Time Will Tell
Quality does not always equal sales. Quality does not always equal acceptance.
Vincent Van Gogh gave a painting to his doctor for payment, who used it to patch his chicken coop.
Elizabeth Gilbert wrote her book Eat, Pray, Love which sold millions. In her TED talk, she says she had to come to realization that her most commercially successful work was probably behind her. But it didn’t mean her best work was. She found a way to keep going. She loves to write.
Then there’s Bob Dylan. Sure, we could say his best work was decades ago. But he presses on. He still makes new albums. He reinterprets the hits live to the point that people get upset.
He doesn’t look back. And love him or hate him, I respect him for it.
He’s an artist.
And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.
I like to look forward. And I’m not afraid to make yesterday look old and outdated, because that’s what happens. As soon as a new idea comes, the best from yesterday doesn’t look so great anymore. It’s one of the most satisfying things about being an artist…making old ideas look old.