“The important work, the work we really want to do, doesn’t come with a recipe. It follows a different pattern. This practice is available to us — not as a quick substitute, a recipe that’s guaranteed to return results, but as a practice. It is a persistent, stepwise approach that we pursue for its own sake and not because we want anything guaranteed in return…This is a path followed by those who seek change, who want to make things better. It’s a path defined by resilience and generosity. It’s outward focused, but not dependent on reassurance or applause…The practice is a journey without an external boss. Because there’s no one in charge, this path requires us to trust ourselves — and more importantly, our ‘selves’ — instead.” (Godin, The Practice, pp. 6-8).My dear friend, Sylvain Paslier, gifted me with this book at least 6 months ago, but it wasn’t until yesterday, while he and I were engaged in one of our marathon phone conversations, that I remembered that I had it.
It had been sitting on the shelf, just waiting for this moment.
What I am finding quite fascinating is that my life has already begun the shift to the kind of practice that Godin describes, particularly my attitude toward results and feedback. As I’ve mentioned before, “positive” feedback is nice, but I don’t actually care all that much right now. I am doing the work that I am doing for its own sake, for my own sake, and out of a deep sense of trust that I have cultivated with my self and others around me.
Applause? Great. Crickets? Great. Nothing guaranteed? Great.
Still, I must create. I am an artist.
It feels strange to write those words and say them aloud and perhaps it is Godin and Sylvain who have bolstered my confidence in the matter.
Godin says, “If we care enough, we keep looking for that feeling, that impact, that ability to make a difference. And then we look harder…That search has created our culture and the world we live in. More and more people, engaging and contributing, weaving together something worth building. Let’s call it ‘art.’ The human act of doing something that will make a difference. The emotional action of doing personal, self-directed work to make a change that we can be proud of…Your part matters. Your art matters” (p. 9)
We’re not on the outside of “art” looking in, we are on the inside creating out.
Even so, I’ve had my doubts about myself. I have an unwritten and unspoken list of people that I consider artists.
For example, I have long thought of my friend Sylvain as an artist. He is an accomplished musician and storyteller whose creation “Hajmiin” is a multi-sensory masterpiece combining the elements of music, mood, meditation, visuals, and story.
Then there is my younger brother who works as a copywriter in Chicago and has a seemingly endless amount of creative energy. I highly recommend checking out his “Coolness Graphed” book and/or his tumblr at www.coolnessgraphed.com, as well as his “United States of American Cheese,” which documents his journey of chewing pieces of cheese into the shapes of all 50 states and then writing a short historical bio for each state. Both of these projects are brilliant and fun and zany and something that no-one else could do like my brother. And, just so you have some context for the photo used for this post, in high school my brother went through a stage of creating videos, dressing up like different characters, and really producing some crazy content. One of his videos was an advertisement for a faux company called PedEx that specialized in shipping human beings in boxes - at least that’s how I remember it. Could that have been? Anyway, one of the characters was a homeless man and so my brother showed up to our grandparents farmhouse as this fellow, came into the house, and scared our grandma half to death. It was such good fun, hilarious, and uniquely my brother.
My older sister is a painter and yogi and teacher and multi-disciplinary artist who also has spent her whole life living as an artist in my mind.
And, to that point, so has my younger sister whose artistic genius seems to have no bounds and no imitator. Paintings. Elaborate fairy houses. Pottery. And she is currently building a geodesic dome as an alternative living space!
Now that I think of it, I am surrounded by artists.
My children are both avid readers, thespians, singers, writers, and creators. They have several storylines that have been going on for YEARS, elaborate in their characterizations, plots, and settings.
My wife is more of an undercover artist than anyone I know and very few people have any idea just how skilled she is at planning, writing, drawing, dancing, leading, designing, bringing people together, supporting, and connecting people to their untapped potential. She is the most selfless human being that I have ever met and the most secure human being I have ever met. Her life is a beautiful work of art.
Do I know anyone who isn’t an artist?
I actually don’t think so.
My dad (a farmer and rancher who has never worn anything on his feet but boots and on his head but a cowboy hat) would tell you he isn’t an artist. But, you should see him plow a field. He doesn’t just plow a field. He sets the plow to just the right depth and goes just the right speed so that you cannot even tell that there were separate plow shears. The soil is smooth and even. And when his cows are getting ready to calve, he brings them close to home so that he can watch them, read their signs, and be ready to help them in any way that he can. He knows them like a father knows his children. When he drives a truck, he shifts seamlessly and effortlessly and takes delight in treating the machine with care and precision. Our farm is very much his painter’s palette.
And then there is my mom. Her Swiss father, among other things, was a carpenter and so she decided to take up his craft in honor of him and made a kitchen table with inlaid tile, bookshelves, and outdoor benches. She made my older sister’s extravagant wedding dress from scratch! And she has crocheted more blankets than I can count. She serves children at her local elementary school and knows their names and their stories and their triumphs and their tragedies. She has served as a chaplain for the jail for decades and her artistry as a cook is legendary. She wrote an exquisite autobiography full of anecdotes and photographs. She scrapbooked our entire lives. She is constantly studying and writing and learning how to be the person she longs to be. And she loves others in a way that I can only hope to emulate.
Art. Art. Art
My wife’s parents are no exception. Nor are her siblings.
I am surrounded by artists.
I am surrounded by art.
Godin says, “When you choose to produce creative work, you’re solving a problem. Not just for you, but for those who will encounter what you’ve made…You are sharing insight and love and magic. And the more it spreads, the more it’s worth to all of those who are lucky enough to experience your contribution. Art is something we get to do for other people” (10).
He then lists a set of “truths” to guide us on our journey:
- Skill is not the same as talent.
- A good process can lead to good outcomes, but it doesn’t guarantee them.
- Perfectionism has nothing to do with being perfect.
- Reassurance is futile.
- Hubris is the opposite of trust.
- Attitudes are skills.
- There’s no such thing as writer’s block.
- Professionals produce with intent.
- Creativity is an act of leadership.
- Leaders are imposters.
- All criticism is not the same.
- We become creative when we ship the work.
- Good taste is a skill.
- Passion is a choice. (pp. 11-12)According to Godin, these truths are counter to the systems and dominant power structures that are based on compliance and recipes.
I’m not sure what all of Godin’s truths imply, and am particularly interested in “Leaders are imposters” and “We become creative when we ship the work”. I suppose that he will unpack them later in the text.
But I do know that he has struck a nerve and I’m already thankful for new perspectives I am experiencing about the people I have been so blessed to spend time with and know and love.
And I believe that we all have the capacity to share insight and love and magic in our own unique way.
As Godin says, “We don’t have to wait to be picked and we don’t have to stand by, hoping that we will feel our calling. And we certainly don’t have to believe in magic to create magic. Instead, we can model the process of the successful creatives who have come before us. We can go on a journey with our eyes wide open, trusting the process and ourselves to create our best contribution. This is our chance to make things better. Being creative is a choice and creativity is contagious” (pp. 15-16).
Peace.
