Being an Artist Today

I wanted to keep it real in that last post because I don’t think it does anyone any good to be lied to about how difficult something is going to be. I think telling someone enlisting in the Marines that boot camp is a cakewalk is setting them up to be completely overwhelmed. You shouldn’t go into difficult things thinking that they will be easy and you shouldn’t expect any realm of human endeavor to be anything but competitive. Whether you are trying to get the lead role in a play, get accepted to a certain college, get a job, or nearly anything else, you are competing against someone else who also wants that thing. Art is no different. You want an audience for your work. So does everyone else. 

Here are 3 ways that you can respond to the incredibly daunting task of being an artist of any form in the 21st century. 

1. Keep it Local

This is the best strategy for someone who does not want to compete on a global level. After all, very few people will succeed globally. The odds of any of us being in that tiny minority are very slim. 

Also, it is painfully tedious to post 3 times a day and respond to comments and release something new every week and do all of the things that modern artists have to do to maintain an online audience and stay relevant. Most of us don’t have the time for that. Especially if you have kids or another career or other hobbies that you are also passionate about, it simply isn’t an option for you to do all that work.

Finally, you don’t want to live “plugged in.” You don’t want to share yur personal life with the internet, you don’t want strangers knowing your business, and you don’t want to be on a screen all of the time!

I understand. Believe me I do. I feel the exact same way. The best way to avoid the nightmare and headache of the internet is to just keep it local. 

One of my friends has a band. They play 3 or 4 shows a month around town and do pretty well. He makes about $100 a gig. That’s $400 / month and nearly $5000 a year. He loves it because it pays for his hobby. He makes enough from music to buy new gear and do other things he loves. He has a family and owns two small businesses. Music isn’t his whole life, but it is a fun, rewarding and financially beneficial part of his life.

Another one of my friends is a painter. She paints gorgeous landscape paintings of sunny hillsides covered in wildflowers. She showcases her paintings at wineries. The patrons of wineries often have money and they’ll pay a few hundred or even a thousand for a beautiful original painting. She does quite well for herself as a painter. Enough to only work part time and focus primarily on her art. 

As you can probably tell from both of these examples, “keeping it local” requires a level of contentment with your life. You probably won’t get rich or be recognized internationally. Big names won’t be reaching out to interview you and you probably won’t be able to afford fast cars, mansions and yachts. “Keeping it local” usually means keeping it small. 

Many artists struggle with this. They want the money and fame of the internet route without the intense competition, workload, and screen time. Unfortunately, it is a package deal. Big success comes with big stress. If you want to live a peaceful life and focus on your art on the side, I would recommend keeping it local. 

2. Commit For a Season

If you are young and ambitious, you want to see how far you can go. You haven’t tested yourself against the world yet and you want to see what you’re capable of. You want to see if there’s a wall out there that is capable of stopping you or if your ambition could carry you straight to the top.

This is completely natural. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it. Some people don’t embrace their own ambitions and it bothers them to see other people embracing theirs. They will mock, ridicule, and otherwise try to slow you down. Keep in mind, they are the one suppressing their natural drive to achieve. They are acting unnaturally. Not you. 

However, you're not as confident as you could be. You have your reservations. In today’s highly competitive world, you aren’t sure if you have what it takes to make it to the tippy top. You might be right. Very few people do. You won’t know until you try. You might shoot straight past everyone else in your field, or you might hit a wall somewhere along the way. You can’t know until you try, so you decide to commit for a season. 

This is wise. You have to see what you’re capable of or else you’re going to have regrets. You don’t want to always wonder what could have been. But you also don’t want to throw all of your time, energy, and money into something that goes nowhere. The logical conclusion then, is that while you’re young, before you collect responsibilities, you commit for a season. Full Send. 

The difficult part with this is recognizing when to call it off and settle for a more practical life. After all, when you go all in on a long shot, you’re going to be broke. You’re going to be a starving artist. There’s no way around it unless you have a trust fund. At a certain point, if it’s not going the way you planned you’ll have to “move home from Hollywood.”

So when do you decide to call it quits? Is it after one year? 3 years? 5 years? 10 years? How long do you put every other aspect of life on hold to chase your dreams? It’s up to you to decide. I’ve met old musicians that spent their entire life trying to “make it.” Success was always just right around the corner. They sidelined everything else to chase their dream.

I chased rock stardom for 3 hard years, from 25 - 28. The first year was an all out sprint. Then I pivoted. I’d learned about the modern music industry and more about myself and I went a different direction. I put as much of my time, energy and money into it as I could while still paying the rent and surviving. 

It came to a point where I was tired. I was seeing some results but it wasn’t enough to justify the amount of work I’d put into it. Music will always be a part of my life, but at a certain point I had to accept that my priorities in life had shifted. I wanted to be a dad more than I wanted to be a rockstar. 

You need to commit for a season. You need to see how far you can go. When your priorities shift, you’ll shift. Life is about the journey, and I don’t regret one day of chasing rock stardom. No matter what, I’ll always know I did everything humanly possible to make it happen, and it just wasn’t in the cards. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough. Cool. I brush myself off and I move on to the next adventure. 

3. Marathon Mode

If you are a patient person, you can decide that you are going to roll your snowball slowly, year after year up the hill regardless of the results. This is what I’ve decided. It’s called “Cruise Control” and cars have it for a reason. It conserves fuel, requires less attention, and it makes you feel like the trip didn’t take that long at all. 

I committed for a season. Full Send. All in. Now I’m settling into the long grind. The sprint is over. I’m in Marathon Mode. 

In Marathon Mode, expectations are lowered for each individual work of art. You don’t have to get a million views on this video, even though you spent a month on it. There will be another one, just as good, if not better, next month. You don’t need this album to be your breakthrough. You’re building a discography. You don’t need this image to be shared by tons of other artists. You’re creating a portfolio of work. A catalog. 

If you create a physical craft you can keep it local while also dappling online. You don’t have to spend your life on a screen because you manage your audience in person. You sell your pieces at trade fairs and farmer’s markets. If you want to, you can also have a website and Etsy account to attract some distant customers. Taking pictures of your work and showcasing it on Instagram is a great low commitment way to keep people up to date on what you’re doing. 

It is far easier to make money locally as a creator of a physical craft such as jewelry, paintings, metalwork, woodwork, weavings, leather, or clothes, than it is to monetize intangible crafts such as audio or visuals. For musicians, podcasters, actors, comedians and content creators, the internet is where you have to put your stuff if you want people to see it. 

When I hit 30, I could feel that it was time to slow down. My 20’s were chaotic, sleepless, unpredictable, and just plain dangerous. It wasn’t sustainable. The sprint was over. I needed systems for creation that I could maintain long term without continuing to postpone the rest of my life in hopes of wild success. 

When you are in Full Send mode you don’t need systems. You just need one thing to work. That’s it. One viral video. One viral song. One viral image. Like Post Malone with “White Iverson” or Lil Nas X with “Old Town Road,” you just need one creation to launch you. So you go all in on that one creation. You break the bank for one video or spend 6 months in the studio. It’s all about going all in on that one thing that’s going to work. 

Once you transition to Marathon Mode, systems become the most important thing about your work. In order to continue creating in the hectic stress of everyday life, (especially as you gather responsibilities) you have to create systems. Everything needs to be streamlined. Camera and podcasting mic set up in a soundproofed room. You plug in your laptop, turn everything on, and just begin. It has to be that easy. If you’re breaking down and setting up every time you get to work, it’ll cost you too many precious hours over the long term. Things need to be efficient. You can’t afford to waste time when you’re already busy and you only have 10-20 hours a week for your craft. 

Marathon Mode isn’t about instant gratification. It isn’t a dopamine rush. It’s serotonin. It’s slower and it’s smoother. It’s also more likely to build you an audience over time than Sprint mode. One of the biggest mistakes I made in Sprint mode was rushing things. I was young. I was impatient. The album needed to be released yesterday! The music video needs to go out now! Only two months later after a few hundred listens did I realize how much I wanted to change. If I’d slowed down I could have really improved “the one” before everyone heard it.

In Marathon Mode you don’t make this mistake because you are moving at a slower pace. You take more time with each piece. You don’t rush it. You’ve settled in for the long haul. 

For more practical young people that aren’t comfortable with the idea of going “all in,” even for a season, this could be a good fit. You value security and stability and you aren’t willing to compromise that for a long shot. That’s fine. Everyone’s risk tolerance is different. But you should still create the art. Whatever it is, it needs to come out of you. 

“The woods would be quiet indeed if no birds sang, except the best.”

Don’t make our woods quiet. Set a pace that’s comfortable for you, keep most of your attention on your other priorities, but set aside some time, energy and money each month for your passion. Don’t forget about it. Don’t call it stupid. Don’t convince yourself it’s a waste of time. You won’t be free of it until you create it and release it. 

If the last few paragraphs sound like you, then I would recommend Marathon Mode. Chip away at it. Just keep watering it. In a few years you’ll be surprised how much you’ve improved and how far you’ve come. Life is long. You can watch TV or scroll on your phone to kill time, but if there’s something that you’re driven to create, you should.