be uncomfortable

I received a timely email the other day:

Hi, I'm a 15-year old thrower, I've been throwing for 2 or 3 years now. I think your work is *perfect* but lately I have felt like what is the point of this.  I truly enjoy throwing, but I can't get out of this rut. Have you ever had these feelings? How did you conquer them?
CL

Dear CL,
I wish I could say I have no idea what you are going through. Unfortunately, I know your feelings all too well.

Your first question-- what is the point of this-- is a larger existential question that I can't answer for you, you have to answer it for yourself. My answer for me is that the point is to bring beautiful, artful objects into this crazy world, and that's pretty much it. I would like to think that creating beautiful things changes the world, so I'm doing what I can to change the world. I don't know how far I'm getting there.

So, you're in a rut, maybe your first. Being a creative type means that you will not always be inspired and have ideas.  It's great that you have the opportunity to experience a creative rut, recognize you are in a rut, and ask for help at the age of 15. When I was your age I would go through creative ruts too, but I just saw that as a sign that I hopelessly sucked as an artist.  Then I would smoke a bunch of pot, write in my diary about how the world did not understand me, and cry. You may do all of those things too, but I never thought to ask for help. It's very brave of you to do so.

You are in a rut because you are bored. Maybe you are bored with your forms, your processes, your self-imposed limitations on the wheel. The opposite of creative is not un-creative, it's boredom. Boredom will smother everything creative within you with its droning, relentless voice about how you're not good enough, that idea sucks, other people are better than you could ever be, and eating a big giant bowl of ice cream is easier than going through the trouble of making that thing you thought you wanted to make.

You can't "conquer" boredom, because it's part of the process, the ebb and flow of being a creative person. Boredom is a message from your internal self that you need to grow. What that means is completely up to you to figure out, but here is a hint: We often resist growth because it makes us uncomfortable. To grow we have to start from a place of not-knowing, and it's much nicer to be in a place of knowing.  But being uncomfortable is not boring, so in my book uncomfortableness is okay for an artist. Maybe you should think about what makes you uncomfortable, and head toward that.

I'm uncomfortable with being less than perfect in my work, which means I don't experiment enough because I'm afraid of making ugly, imperfect work. I'm uncomfortable when my sales are slow, which means I'm constantly pushing myself in production, another creativity killer. I'm uncomfortable with ease, which means I don't value my work unless I struggle. I'm uncomfortable with pursuing other artistic interests for fear of depleting my creative reserves, which means my creative self usually survives on a plain clay diet.

My advice to you is to think about what makes you uncomfortable, and adjust your approach so that your creativity can incorporate those things. I've had to address my issues in order to have a better creative life. For me this means taking the time to try new things and make crappy work, make work that is not production-oriented and and may never sell, not immediately dismiss work that seems too "easy",  and work in other mediums I love such as drawing, painting, and paper cutting.

My dear, I hope that helps.

myth of the lone artist

This is my last installment on five things that I think artists need in order to run a successful art-based business. If you haven't read the five things yet, read them right here. Today I'm writing about point #4: the importance of building a support network of colleagues.

My friends love to laugh at me when I say that deep down, I'm kinda shy. When I was a kid, I could only manage one friend at a time, and that didn't change until I became a teenager and more comfortable with myself in groups of people. What I discovered as a teenager is that having good friends who are going through what you are going through can get you through anything, including being a teenager.

A lot of people rely on their families for support-- spouse, siblings, parents-- and I think families are good for a certain kind of support, the unconditional "you-are-so-talented-everything-you-make-is-beautiful" kind. And that's great, we all need some of that. But colleagues who share your field understand on a deeper level what you are experiencing, and can give you more specific support. This is essential in order to not lose your freaking mind when you are trying to run your art-based business.

Forget the myth of the lone artist. The truth is, we all need lots of support from various sources on a steady and ongoing basis. Every artist should have a go-to person for:

• times you are so overwhelmed with work that jumping off a bridge seems easier than finishing all the stuff you have to do.
• nightmare customers who are making you lose sleep at night.
• creative block.
• money flow problems.
• production snafus, like not getting the supplies you need in the time frame you need them.

That's just the beginning. All of the issues above are problems you have probably already had and will have again. My husband will usually offer a hug, and when things are really bad, a stiff cocktail. He's like a general practitioner. My colleagues, however, are specialists. They usually know exactly what remedy is needed. And talking to someone who knows exactly what you are going through is a huge comfort. Most things cannot be solved instantly, but being put back on the right path can bring much needed relief from the nasty voices in your head, telling you what a screw-up and failure you are.

If you don't have a network in place already, get it in place. When I moved to the Bay Area, I started an art group of people who wanted to become professional artists, and I made great connections that way. If a shy person like me can do that, you can too.