Is everyone an artist? A bit of backstory. Start here.

Gah, that question! No one wants to really answer it. It’s so loaded. Everyone is an artist. Your life is art. Life itself is abstract, I know I know…who talks like this?

Well, it turns out that artists do, poets do, and philosophers do. I do, after a good glass of wine. 

I’ll start by breaking down the first part of these lofty ideas with a practical example of my own personal somewhat painful, somewhat embarrassing, really freeing story.

Everyone is an artist, yes, but there are some that work at it a bit more than others. Let me clarify the word “work.” (I’ve written more about the “work” of an artist here.)

Some people sink into the work of creating art more than others, and some bemoan it more than others. 

Some people bring curiosity more than others, and some people think they have all the answers.

Some people develop skill sets more than others, and some people hide their emotions behind those skill sets.

Some people challenge themselves more than others, and some people simply stay right where they are for a very long time because they don’t know what to do next or why they should change and grow, and if they do have any inkling that growth needs to happen, they don’t know how to go about it.

I personally have done all of those things. I have worked, bemoaned, hidden, embraced, challenged myself, given up, started again, and have finally become completely obsessed with growth in the most romantic way artists can be obsessed and still stay happy and healthy. 

I have learned not to point the finger, judge, or envy anyone on their path because I have phoned it in, epically failed, and finally surprised myself with creative successes that have been the cornerstone of my current artistic practice. 

When I started dating my now husband, who has been a practicing artist and art professor for 30 years, we were talking about our art, (with of good glass of wine in hand) and he made a comment that changed my creative process completely.

It was profoundly simple. 

I was “expressing” (OK, complaining, does bemoaning sound better?) OK, I WAS BEMOANING how this creative path and that creative path had not worked out for me. It had not taken off quite as quickly as I desired, or it had not been profitable as fast as I had hoped. I felt dissatisfied. He looked at me and said quite simply, “I am in it for the long game.” 

I blinked in a rare speechless moment and felt something shift inside me.

Something lifted. I had been a creative for some time, studied art in school, owned a stationery company, illustrated for books and magazines, and even got to illustrate fashion live on the runway in London and Shanghai. I even stretched my design skills with a handbag company I started. Very entrepreneurial, wouldn’t you say? It looked like a pretty creative life. But I was not in any of it for “the long game.” More often than not, it did not feel like a creative life. But why? Why couldn’t I commit fully to my own creative path?

I could (and did) blame SO many obstacles outside myself, but in that moment, a moment free from judgment (which I am shockingly good at) and full of compassion towards myself, I knew the truth. 

I did not trust myself. I did not trust my ability to maintain and expand my own creativity. 

I knew what it was like to be in a bad relationship, and in an instant, I knew I was in a bad relationship with my creative process. It was like being with an emotionally distant boyfriend who returns your call only when convenient. You wait, pretend it is all OK. You’d have great moments occasionally, but you know one of you is not as committed as they need to be. 

 I was the bad boyfriend! I was not committed to myself. I needed to take time and figure out how to fall in love with the creative process, trust it and have a healthy ongoing relationship with it. 

Being honest with myself surprised me, and it was not as painful as it might seem. Always better to have these “Come-to-Jesus” moments on your own terms than to have someone shove it at you. This ah-ha moment was a gift because I was ready for it and open to it. I do want to add that I spent a good week, maybe longer, in shock, realizing that I had “phoned in” a good portion of my art career. OK, not completely phoned in, but there were a fair amount of prank calls going on. I had some genuinely inspired moments, but I knew I was not meeting my potential. I wanted and needed to STAY in that inspiration zone. Live in it.

I didn’t even know where to begin! I had not landed on something that I felt was sustainable, and it was eating at me. All the mental clutter had caused me to flip my core subject matter, color sense, and compositions pretty dramatically in a short time. And even though I was creating work that was selling, it was not resonating with me the way I instinctively knew it could. 

Let’s look back at that last sentence, resonating with me, not with other people, buyers, collectors, not commercially, but with “me.” 

I am making a differentiation for a reason. For all intents and purposes, I was leading a very creative life, but I needed and wanted someone more, something that I knew existed yet was intangible, and I didn’t know how to let in. 

That is a lot to unpack, isn’t it? (Good thing I will be posting weekly!)

So this conversation at The Smart Creative is not precisely the most pragmatic, although I have managed to harness some pretty practical, creative practice tips that I will be happy to share. It is really about finding “a way in.”

A way into what the Celtics called the “thin spaces,” a concept I became fascinated with, that I had experienced and wanted more of. In a simple poetic explanation, a thin space is when you have one foot in the physical world and one foot in a world of mystery, spirit, connection, and alignment, and for one transcendent moment, you see and create the way you were designed to. 

Let’s use this space to dig in and ask…

What leads us into our emotional, creative space? Can we set ourselves up to move into it easily? Are there multiple ways to find your “way in,” and can everyone find it for themselves? I believe the answer is yes, yes, and yes. I think I need 4…4 yes answers.

I may be rusty since my older writing days. Forgive my typos ahead of time, I am an artist with some dyslexia. Future posts will be shorter-winded, she types with a smirk. As I get back into this creative flow, I am counting on you to be as curious as I am. Hope to see you. Join The Smart Creative conversation. Free subscribers get partial posts so you test the waters. Paid subscribers are all in and get full posts on the creative process and a glimpse into my creative practice. Founding members get a 30 min chat with me. Add your email to help you decide…easy peasy.