Daniel Batten: Why You Have No Choice But To Follow Your Passion

Image from awesome talk on Talent + Passion here.

I was going to write a big post today responding to Kadie's challenge post, and talk about how, because it's so easy for me to lose faith in a project, I spend far, far more time putting my passion off for another day, when I have the time/energy/inspiration required -- and how that approach is ultimately hurting my art practice.

But then I found this brilliant summary of all the things by Daniel Batten:



(Originally posted by Daniel Batten at SpokenBliss.com.)

Have you noticed how many people there are that are doing things they don’t enjoy, saying “I’m just doing this for a short while, and then I’ll be able to…”

Sometimes this is true. But if you are still doing things you really don’t enjoy after three months of becoming conscious you don’t enjoy what you are doing, then I’d suggest you are kidding yourself.

The problem with kidding yourself is that it makes you into someone that you can’t trust. And as soon as that happens, you will also stop trusting – your ability to realize any goal – your talents – your integrity.

That’s a pretty big consequence. So how do you stop yourself from self-decepetions? That’s a good question – and one which I’ll answer,

But first, to help you root out all such self-deceptions from your life, lets look at 3 all-too common examples of how these self-deceptions manifest.

1. An entrepreneur starts a business because she loves x, and wants freedom. Three years later, she is operating the business (which she hates), doing very little of x, and has less money and less freedom than she had as an employee.
2. An employee says “I really don’t enjoy this job, but I’ll do it for now because it pays off my mortgage”. Twenty years later, he has switched job 7 times, got a few promotions – but still doesn’t really enjoy the work, and never feels that he has enough of a financial buffer to do what he loves.
3. An artist takes the plunge and “does what she loves” but doesn’t earn much money from it, so carves out 30-40 hours a week to do itinerant work to support what she does until she “makes it big”. Each person is living life from the standpoint of “I will be happy when…” (I get the house/ boyfriend/ job/ IPO/ big account/ ….). But even if for example the entrepreneur does hit pay-dirt – so what? For 10 years, she has practiced putting on hold what she loves – and so this is what she’s become an expert at.

Even if this person decides to give back by becoming a business mentor – without a lot of self-enquiry, she will only be able to mentor other companies to follow the script she followed. Seek whatever you want in this life – but know that the minute you say “I will be happy when…” you have lost something precious.

Whatever you practice is what you will get better at. Practice the guitar, and you will get better at the guitar. Practice putting your dreams on ice, and you will soon be an expert at putting your dreams on ice.

The remedy is that you must follow your passion. Do you see how you really have no alternative? It is too dangerous not too. We think that we will get financial gains and progress for doing “good enough” for a time. But trying to live a life without our passion is like saying, “I’ll just drive this car for a while then I’ll put some fuel in it later.”

Without fuel, we go nowhere fast, and so we end up coming slower as well as having less fun. A lose-lose. We end up pushing a car around, huffing and puffing, rather than relaxing and letting the fuel power the car while we relax.

So if you want happiness as an “end goal” that means you need to practice being happy, and stop practicing things that make you unhappy. Put fuel in your tank by daring to do what you are passionate about, right now.

Stop it, Daniel Batten. Stop being so awesome right now.

If you want to read more from Daniel Batten, check out his site, or go read this article as it originally appeared on SpokenBliss.com.

Challenge #21: Passion Is A Choice

Here's the thing.  Passion is a lot like love.  At first you fall in, head over heels, you can't help but be consumed with it.  Then slowly, over time, and with every obstacle you are forced to cross during your career, the feelings that were once so strong start to diminish and fade.  Then one day you wake up and have zero desire to have anything to do with what you were once so passionate about.

That's why passion is a choice, not an emotion.

Sure the happy lovey-dovey endorphins swimming through our brains are great to kick start us on our journey, but if we rely on those emotions to carry us through our career we're in for a rude awaking.  Every artist has those days where they roll out of bed and want nothing to do with their work, and suddenly have no idea what they are doing with their life.  Things start to close in around us and feel bleak and desperate.  But we have to keep going, because passion is a choice, not an emotion.

Emotion is what tells us we'll never be good enough, strong enough, talented enough, so what's the point?  Passion on the other hand requires a choice to say, "F!*# it, I'm doing it anyway," even when we don't want to, even when its hard, and even when we would rather be anywhere else but working.

I'm not going to lie, I am a chronic project non-finisher.  I get really excited about a project, get about 60% of the way through it, and then loose steam and move on to something else.  I constantly rely on my emotions, and when they begin to wane I loose interest and quit.  I can't even begin to express the number of boxes and boxes of half finished pieces of "something" lying around my studio.

Through the years I've laughed it off as a goofy personality trait, "haha, you know me…" But as I get older I'm starting realize what a serious problem this really is in my life.  Sticking with something just until the going gets boring and then bailing out is a terrible way to live a life or conduct a career.

I don't give up on my marriage because not every single moment is as exciting as the day we met, because I know that love is a choice I have made.  I have chosen to love this person.  Some days are fantastic, and some days I want to flush the toilet while he is taking a shower… but I love him because I have chosen to.

So why do I give my art career any less commitment?  Sticking with something just until I'm bored, never lets me truly accomplish anything.  I don't want to look back on my life and see a lot of false starts and half finished projects.  I want to be able to look at my life and say, "I DID this, I DID that."  Not, "I thought about doing this, or I started doing that, but you know…"

Don't forget you snag your nifty challenge badge so
you can inspire your friend to be challenged along with you!

People writing this blog every week is hard.  Half the time I'm pretty sure nobody reads it or could care less if I ever write anything on it ever again.  But I'm still here, and I'm still plugging along because this is my passion and I am choosing to embrace it for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, wether exiting or practically boring me to death.

So this week I encourage you to ignore your emotions and keep going.  Wether you were thinking about throwing in the towel on your creative career because it just doesn't seem to be working out, or you just can't seem to find the energy or motivation to finish that project you've had sitting in the closet for a month now.  Choose passion.  Choose to live a life you can look back on and say, "That was me! I DID that!"

My Own Personal Abyss

The lights have been out at the Abyss since last Monday, in the name of detoxing from our constantly-connected world. I'll be honest -- I haven't been the best patient. In my defense, our detox week coincided with my attempt to buy a house (to all you homeowners out there, I don't know how you did it without going insane, but hot dang I applaud you for it), so the interwebbies became even more present then usual in my life.

That said, even just taking a break from the blog caused a real shift in my schedule and sense of availability. Writing and/or editing two to three posts a week, keeping up with Wreck This Journey, and making sure to get my collaboration sessions on with Kadie all take up significant chunks of time in my life. While its a worthwhile way to spend my time, once I add in work, household maintenance (dogs aren't going to walk themselves), and socialization (friendships aren't going to take care of themselves either), I end up feeling like there's not a lot of time left in my day. This isn't the first time we've talked about the struggle to find time for everything, but today I want to share a sneaking suspicion I've had for a while: that it just can't be done, period.

Cue Scrubs' theme song:



True story, brah.

Here's the thing: I've always thought of my creative work (writing, drawing, sewing, painting, etc.) as the thing that I do after I get everything else done. The thing that will arise out of the void created by having "nothing to do" -- my time abyss, if you will. It's why I identify so well with the definition of "abyss" that we highlight here on the blog -- the primal chaos before creation.

Here's the problem: when exactly do I find myself with nothing to do? There is always something that I could be doing -- whether it's helping out family, or grocery shopping, or joining into that super-interesting conversation on Facebook about whether the latest fan theory on Labyrinth is awesome or SUPER-awesome (and if you just missed that reference, you absolutely desperately must go rent it, or Netflix it, or stream it, or whatever the kids are doing these days. No excuses.) -- and thus my expectation that time to be creative will just show up in the form of empty, unscheduled hours on my calendar has left me with very little art produced in the two years since I stopped having to make art for grades. For that matter, even when I was in school, I still wouldn't make art outside of what was assigned. Back then, I attributed it to inspiration fatigue -- but these days, I'm not so sure.

You've probably guessed where this thought process ends up:

Is an artist still an artist if they aren't creating?

 Good golly Miss Molly, I don't have the faintest idea of how to answer that question. The short version is "Yes?" with a question mark because while I wholeheartedly believe everyone has the creative capability to be an artist, and therefore if you identify as an artist, who am I to say differently; but at the same time, being an artist is arguably choosing to make the creative processing of inputs - aka, what most people think of a "creativity" - your life's work. The long version is "Maybe . . ." followed by a long descent into rambling stress about how labels don't really help anyone anyway and how even DaVinci needed to eat, but then again, if I really was an artist, wouldn't I just feel compelled to make art all day long, everyday, and maybe I'm really just in the wrong field . . . You get the idea.

But here's the crux of the issue: instead of existing in a void where I have time to make nothing but art, at the moment I exist in an abyss devoid of art creation -- and that makes me sincerely question what the heck I think I'm doing with my life.

I'm reminded of the stories of the first trans-oceanic explorers, sailing off towards the horizon without any proof that there was going to be something waiting for them out beyond that infinite line of earth meeting sky. It takes faith to embark on such a voyage: that the water will give way to land, that the void will eventually become repopulated with something, and I'm not interested in turning back now -- but in the meantime, when it comes to art, I feel like I'm piloting a very small skiff into a vast and immeasurable darkness, where my inability (unwillingness?) to make time to create leaves me without oars or sail. That's a frightening thought.

I know, it sounds melodramatic. And in some ways it is -- there are far worse things in the world than being busy with family and friends and work and day-to-day life. But if we're going to truly change the way the creative world, and the world at large, currently does business, we have to stop only talking about the pretty, happy, pulled-together front that so many of us use to disguise how genuinely lost we are, because of some feeling that we don't 'deserve' to feel lost. That kind of pretense helps nobody.

Who's Laughing Now?

You are not a joke.

What I'm pretty sure most non-creative
people think of when they hear
I'm an artist. © Mitch O'Connell

Let me just say that one more time, YOU are not a joke.

One of the biggest challenges that I face as an artist (and that I think plagues most creative people) is this constant feeling of our profession being somehow silly and having to justify the importance of what we do all the time.  We sometimes get it from our family, when they constantly ask us when we're going to grow up and get a "real job."  Sometimes we get it from our friends, or our community, when we're asked, "So what do you do for a living?" We respond, and then are met with, "Oh… do you actually make money doing that?" But a lot of times, I think it simply comes from us.

It comes from us because we are scared.  As a society we have this idea that anyone who is creative and successful has somehow "beaten the odds."  Which sets up a very interesting idea that successful creative lives are not something readily attainable to the average person and can only be achieved by a handful of magically blessed individuals.  This is not true.

Creative professions are just like any other job, they take hard work and dedication but most of all, you have to take yourself seriously.  In most other professions, there are people who do a company's marketing, PR, accounting, market forecasting, selling, buying, social networking, negotiating, developing, production… etc.  You only have you.

You have to learn how to wear and juggle all those roles, or hire people to help you with them.

Most creative people fail because they think they can sit around in their studio all day making art and that if they were really good they would simply be "discovered."  When they are not magically "discovered" they give up, thinking their work was crap and that they were a joke.  However, they weren't a joke at all and they might have been very talented, they simply forgot to show up for all the other job titles they held.  Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue at a major company if only the creative department showed up for work everyday and the CEO and accountants and PR guys and marketing dudes all just disappeared?  Yet that is how most creative people treat their lives, and when they fail, they think they simply weren't talented enough, not that it had anything to do with the fact they were missing their support team.

There is an old saying that is more true in the creative fields than anywhere else I think:  the fastest way to get a job doing what you love is acting like you already have a job doing that thing; eventually all your pretending will turn into reality.  This is ridiculously true.

What you do is not a joke.  Yes, it may seem at times like, "Who is ever going to want to pay money for this thing that I made?  I mean, I'm nobody…" These are just our insecurities talking.  What we do has value, what we do is important, and what we do is not, and never will be a joke.  Which means we need to give it the honor and respect that it deserves.  We need to get serious about ourselves, we need to get serious about our creative well being, and, most importantly, we need to get serious about our work.  Because when we start taking ourselves and our own work seriously, people take notice.  Stop living your creative life apologizing for what you do and start taking pride in it instead.

On that note, I will leave you with this video from Jackie Battenfield, author of "The Artists Guide: How To Make A Living Doing What You Love."  If you are really looking for a place to get started in understanding how to get serious about your creative career, I HIGHLY suggest picking up a copy of Jackie's book.  It is down to earth, easy to read and full of fantastic information for creative individuals.  Enjoy, be inspired, and remember, You are not a joke.  :)

Challenge #4: With A Little Help From Our Friends

From day one this website has been about keeping it real with other artists and creatives about the ups, the downs and all the in-betweens of living a creative life.  So let me just say straight out that last week was really rough for me emotionally.

I found myself feeling like everything I did was crap, like none of this “creative” stuff I do really matters and that nobody even cares that I do it at all. How could I have been foolish enough to think that anybody would really care about my work let alone want to pay me money for it!?  Basically I sat around having a pity party for myself wondering why I wasn't like a “normal” person, with a “normal” degree and a “normal” job where life would be so much much much less complicated.

But I don’t have to explain this to you guys, you know exactly what I mean I’m sure.  We’ve all been there at one time or another.

Sometimes in this creative life I lead I feel as if I am essentially drudging my way through some dark, murky and infinite abyss.  I keep flailing my arms about around me as I go, hoping to find some sort of hand rail, or wall, or defined pathway, to let me know I’m heading the right direction and not simply around in circles but all I ever seem to come up with is air.  So without any other recourse I simply keep plugging along in the darkness, hoping the direction I set out on will eventually get me to where I want to be and not into some bottomless pit, or off a cliff along the way.  Sounds enticing doesn’t it?

The beauty and the curse of a creative life is that it has no boundaries, it has no rules, it has no predecessors to simply follow along behind.  The course for everyone is their own, they get to make up their own rules, their own path and their own way to travel the distance to get to their goals.

I always find myself looking around at other creatives and thinking that their paths are so pretty, clearly labeled and that they look like they are traversing them so effortlessly.  While mine on the other hand resembles more of a swampland, combined with a mine field, and maybe a few ravenous wild zombies chasing me while I run around like a crazy person trying not to get blown up or drown in a pool of goo.

But that’s the thing, our paths never look as pretty to us as they do to others.  They never look as clear to us as others seem to perceive they are from the outside.  While we can get lost in a maze of our own making, others can look at our lives and see the beauty in the path we’ve followed.

I found myself thinking a lot about this while I was aimlessly wandering around my creative path, avoiding the ravenous zombies, this past week.

When I am lost in my head so deep that I can’t even see which way is up (like this past week), my friends are always there to offer that outside perspective and let me know which way is up again.  It’s so easy to loose track of where we are and how far we have come as creatives, that being given the gift of understanding how others see you from their perspective is one of the most amazing gifts that can be given to another artistic soul.

Creative people tend to be so insecure about their work and assume, no matter how many time you may tell them, that nobody likes what they do, or that nobody cares.  Hearing the contrary from another human being can be life altering.  It can literally mean the difference between someone throwing in the towel for good on their work or continuing to pursue their passions no matter the challenges they face.  A simple “Hey, I think what you do is amazing,” can literally be that important in the life of a creative person.

So on that note, the challenge I put to you this week is to encourage as many of your creative friends as possible!  Send them a hand written note, post a comment on their website, shoot them a message on Facebook, invite them to coffee, whatever, just let them know that you care and that you think they and their work are amazing and of great value.  You have no idea how much something that simple could change their life. If you can’t think of what to write or say, feel free to grab this weeks challenge badge to share with them!

Now, on the flip side of the coin, maybe YOU are the creative person who could really use this bit of encouragement in your life.  Maybe YOU need to hear that what you do matters, and that your work is of value and importance.  I learned a long time ago that there is nothing wrong with admitting that you need a little encouragement! (In fact, I think I pretty much told Kate point blank that I needed a pep talk last Monday at our weekly meeting) If that is the case, we have something special just for you!  Shoot us an e-mail at: theartabyss@gmail.com with your home mailing address and get ready to receive a little something special from us to you. (We promise your info will stay secure and that you won’t get on some weird mailing list.)  Make sure you get your address to us ASAP since we have a limited number of special somethings we can send out!

So there you have it lovely people, mission encourage a creative is officially a go!

If you’ve ever been creatively lost along your own path we’d love to hear about it! Drop us a line in the comment section below to share your story!

True Confessions Of A Guerrilla Artist

My oh so terrifying knit bomb...
you're terrified right?

The time was midnight, it was dark and clear and you could just hear the sound of the wind rustling in the trees.  I had scoped out the spot earlier that day; not a security camera in sight.  I threw my bag over my shoulders and crept along the sidewalk.  As I moved through the night, my black clothes helping me to disappear into the shadows, I focused all my will power on calming my racing heartbeat.  This was my first job, and as much as I had prepared, the thought of getting caught still nagged at the back of my mind.  I needed to get in and get out.  Right then a car came zooming up around the corner.  Quick as a flash, I leapt behind a bush, ducking out of site from the gleam of the car’s high beams.  “Idiot!” I whispered loudly under my breath. “If you had just kept walking like you were supposed to be there, no one would have noticed you!  But no, you had to dress in all black from head to toe and then leap behind a bush like a criminal… because that’s not suspicious looking at all.”  I got up, brushed the leaves out of my hair, and kept walking towards my target, an old lamp post in the middle of downtown.  Once there, I paused looking around the deserted streets. No one is sight, good.  Bending over my bag, I reached in and grabbed the long roll of fabric I had spent the last three weeks making just for this moment.  Unrolling it I held it up the post and began to stich it on.  The needle slid into the fabric, knotted against the back and then synched the two sides together as I pulled it taught.  A lump fell into the pit of my stomach.  As I continued stitching, my hands began to tremble and I repeatedly kept dropping the needle and having to spend precious moments finding it again.  How long had I been standing here in the open?  The seconds were pounding away in my brain.  Another car zoomed round the corner and before I could stop myself I had dived into yet another bush.  Cursing myself for my ongoing stupidity I crept back to my project and began to ferociously attack my piece, sewing up the sides as fast as I could get my fingers to fly.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity of standing there exposed, I slid the final knot into place, cut the line, stuffed my things back into my bag and got the hell out of dodge.  As I slid back into the safety of my vehicle, my body began to shake uncontrollably, my hands fumbling to much to even secure my seat buckle.   Back at home I sat motionless, curled up into the fetal position on the corner of my couch, as if half expecting the police to burst through the door at any moment and carry me away.  I waited.  Nothing.  My eyes closed, my body exhausted by the emotional and mental strain of the night sagged and slowly I drifted to sleep…

Ok, so maybe I’m not cut out to be Sam Spade or the criminal type.  I mean come on, if I can’t even sew some soft fuzzy yarn on a pole without feeling like I’m suddenly on the FBI’s most wanted list… maybe that isn’t what I should be doing.

The thing is I LOVE guerilla art.  I love street art.  I love the passion behind it and the way that it brings a message directly to your audience without them ever having to pay $5 to step inside a museum.  Instead of them going to the art, you are simply just bringing the art to them instead.  Have I mentioned how much I love this concept?

So what’s a chicken, terrified-of-breaking-the-law-girl to do!?  Turns out a lot!

"The Gateway"

"A Line I Made By Walking"

In my adventures to find my street art niche, I tried all sorts of things.  Some didn’t turn out so well… hence the aforementioned story, but some of them really hit home with me, the two most prominent being Land Art and Guerrilla Gardening.

After my total failure as a knit bomber, I had decided to try something totally different.  Instead, of exploring the urban areas around me like I had been, I began to really dive into the natural elements surrounding me for a change.  Inspired by people like Andy Goldsworthy, Richard Long and Patrick Dougherty, I began creating work from nature.  I would often spend hours wandering around in the wilderness just getting to know the land, waiting for it to say something so that I could respond in the only way I knew how, through my art.  The best part was, this work wasn’t scary at all, it was almost sacred in a way.  I had found my niche.  To See more of my adventures in Land Art and read more about the projects pictured above, click HERE, HERE and HERE

After months of working with sticks and leaves and dirt and grass and trees and flowers and water and mud and whatever else I could come up with I began to really ache for those urban spaces again.  Then one day it dawned on me.  Why not simply mesh the two together?  Fueled with my newfound passion for land art, I began to brainstorm ideas for how I could combine the two disciplines.  After some time, I decided on a project that involved something known as guerrilla gardening.

At first, I was worried that this would be another horrific repeat of my knit bombing experience.  Nervously, I gathered up my tools and supplies that first day and headed downtown, determined to face my fears.  The difference was literally night and day… for one it actually was daytime.  I also didn’t try to dress up like some sort of crazed ninja assassin this time either.  Instead I was simply in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, slowly meandering around downtown pausing whenever I came to a spot I wanted to work.  I’m not going to lie, the first couple spots I worked I was pretty nervous, but nobody seemed to notice me.  Eventually it became clear that nobody really cared what I was up to as long as I wasn’t going to be smashing windows or vandalizing their property.  As I continued working, my confidence grew and I became more and more bold with my work.  In the end, I created and documented 21 separate guerrilla gardening installations downtown. If you want to see what my full Guerrilla Gardening piece turned out like, or want to read the artist statement behind what I was doing, check out THIS LINK HERE.

The moral of the story is, figure out what works for you.  You have to decide if your fear is coming from a place of discomfort with the act you are about to perform, or if it is coming from a place of nervousness about putting yourself out there as an artist.  If you are uncomfortable about the act itself, don’t do it.  You don’t have to be like everyone else.  Because you don’t like something, or are uncomfortable with it, doesn’t make you any more or less of an artist than another person, it simply makes you unique.  When you listen to your heart and go where it leads you, you will find yourself making the work only you could have made in a way only you could have made it.  Art isn’t about being the coolest, or the most trendy, or the most daring person.  It’s about having something to say and find your perfect medium in which to say it, your way.

So experiment this week, discover who you are, what you have to say and how you can say it. Don’t let your fear of exposure as an artist keep you from having your voice heard!

Me hanging out inside one of my favorite land art projects "Gateway"

Take Umm… 40? With Hugh MacLeod

Image © Hugh Macleod and gapingvoid.com

This Thursday, instead of our normal take five post, I wanted to share some amazing advice from cartoonist Hugh MacLeod. I recently got the chance to read his book: Ignore Everybody And 39 Other Keys to Creativity and was blown away by some of the really powerful observations he made about living a creative life. I'll be posting up all 40 of his key points below, but I highly suggest you pick up a copy of the book itself because it is definitely worth the read!!!  Hugh even lets you read the first 25% of the book for free if you click here!

Ignore everybody.

“The more original your idea is, the less good advice other people will be able to give you. When I first started with the cartoon-on-the-back-of-bizcard format, people thought I was nuts. Why wasn’t I trying to do something that was easier for markets to digest, like cutie-pie greeting cards or whatever?”

The idea doesn’t have to be big. It just has to be yours.

“The sovereignty you have over your work will inspire far more people than the actual content ever will.”

Put the hours in.

“Doing anything worthwhile takes forever. Ninety percent of what separates successful people and failed people is time, effort and stamina.”

Good ideas have lonely childhoods.

“This is the price you pay, every time. There is no way of avoiding it.”

If your business plan depends on suddenly being “discovered” by some big shot, your plan will probably fail.

“Nobody suddenly discovers anything. Things are made slowly and in pain.”

You are responsible for your own experience.

“Nobody can tell you if what you are doing is good, meaningful, or worthwhile. The more compelling the path, the more lonely it is.”

Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten.

“Then when you hit puberty, they take the crayons away and replace them with dry, uninspiring books on algebra, history, etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the “creative bug” is just a weak voice telling you, “I’d like my crayons back please.”

Keep your day job.

“I’m not just saying that for the usual reason – that is, because I think your idea will fail. I’m saying it because to suddenly quit one’s job in a big ol’ creative drama-queen moment is always, always, always a direct conflict with what I call “The Sex & Cash Theory.”

Companies that squelch creativity can no longer compete with companies that champion creativity.

“Nor can you bully a subordinate into becoming a genius.”

Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb.

“You may never reach the summit; for that you will be forgiven. But if you don’t make at least one serious attempt to get above the snow line, years later you will find yourself lying on your deathbed, and all you will feel is emptiness.”

The more talented somebody is, the less they need props.

“Meeting a person who wrote a masterpiece on the back of a deli menu would not surprise me. Meeting a person who wrote a masterpiece with a silver Cartier fountain pen on an antique writing table in an airy SoHo loft would seriously surprise me.”

Don't try and stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether.

“Your plan for getting your work out there has to be as original as the actual work, perhaps even more so. The work has to create a totally new market. There’s no point trying to do the same thing as 250,000 other young hopefuls, waiting for a miracle. All existing business models are wrong. Find a new one.”

If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you.

"The pain of making the necessary sacrifices always hurts more than you think it’s going to. I know. It sucks. The being said, doing something seriously creative is one of the most amazing experiences one can have, in this or any other lifetime. If you can pull it off, it’s worth it. Even if you don’t end up pulling it off, you’ll learn many incredible, magical, valuable things. It’s not doing it – when you know full well you had the opportunity – that hurts far more than any failure."

Never compare your inside with somebody else’s outside.

“The more you practice your craft, the less you confuse worldly rewards with spiritual rewards, and vice-versa. Even if your path never makes any money or furthers your career, that’s still worth a ton.”

Dying young is overrated.

“I’ve seen so many young people take the “Gotta do the drugs and booze thing to make me a better artist” route over the years. A choice that wasn’t smart, original, effective, healthy, or ended happily.”

The most important thing a creative person can learn professionally is where to draw the red line that separates what you are willing to do from what you are not.

“Art suffers the moment other people start paying for it. The more you need the money, the more people will tell you what to do. The less control you will have. The more bullshit you will have to swallow. The less joy it will bring. Know this and plan accordingly.”

The world is changing.

“Some people are hip to it, others are not. If you want to be able to afford groceries in five years, I’d recommend listening closely to the former and avoiding the latter. Just my two cents.”

Merit can be bought. Passion can’t.

“The only people who can change the world are people who want to. And not everybody does.”

Avoid the Watercooler Gang.

“They’re a well meaning bunch, but they get in the way eventually.”

Sing in your own voice.

“Picasso was a terrible colorist. Turner couldn’t paint human beings worth a damn. Saul Steinberg’s formal drafting skills were appalling. T.S. Eliot had a full-time day job. Henry Miller was a wildly uneven writer. Bob Dylan can’t sing or play guitar.”

The choice of media is irrelevant.

“Every medium’s greatest strength is also it’s greatest weakness. Every form of media is a set of fundamental compromises. One is not “higher” than the others. A painting doesn’t do much, it just sits there on a wall. That’s the best and worst thing about it. Film combines sound, movement, photography, music, acting. That’s the best and worst thing about it. Prose just uses words arranged in linear form to get its point across. That’s the best and worst thing about it, etc.”

Selling out is harder than it looks.

“Diluting your product to make it more “commercial” will just make people like it less.”

Nobody cares. Do it for yourself.

“Everybody is too busy with their own lives to give a damn about your book, painting, screenplay, etc., especially if you haven’t finished it yet. And the ones who aren’t too busy you don’t want in your life anyway.”

Worrying about “Commercial vs. Artistic” is a complete waste of time.

“You can argue about “Selling Out” versus “Artistic Purity” till the cows come home. People were kvetching about it in 1850, and they’ll be kvetching about it in 2150.”

Don’t worry about finding inspiration. It comes eventually.

“Inspiration precedes the desire to create, not the other way round.”

You have to find your own shtick.

“A Picasso always looks like Picasso painted it. Hemingway always sounds like Hemingway. A Beethoven symphony always sounds like a Beethoven symphony. Part of being a master is learning how to sing in nobody else’s voice but your own.”

Write from the heart.

“There is no silver bullet. There is only the love God gave you.”

The best way to get approval is not to need it.

“This is equally true in art and business. And love. And sex. And just about everything else worth having.”

Power is never given. Power is taken.

“People who are 'ready' give off a different vibe from people who aren’t. Animals can smell fear. And the lack thereof.”

Whatever choice you make, the Devil gets his due eventually.

“Selling out to Hollywood comes with a price. So does not selling out. Either way, you pay in full, and yes, it invariably hurts like hell.”

The hardest part of being creative is getting used to it.

“If you have the creative urge, it isn’t going to go away. But sometimes it takes a while before you accept the fact.”

Remain frugal.

“The less you can live on, the more chance your idea will succeed. This is true even after you’ve 'made it.'”

Allow your work to age with you.

“You become older faster than you think. Be ready for it when it happens.”

Being poor sucks.

“The biggest mistake young people make is underestimating how competitive the world is out there.”

Beware of turning hobbies into jobs.

“It sounds great, but there is a downside.”

Savor obscurity while it lass.

“Once you 'make it,' your work is never the same.

Start blogging.

“The ease with which a blog (or whatever social medium you prefer) can circumvent the gatekeepers is staggering.”

Meaning scales, people don’t.

"It may be modest, it may not be. It could be a little candle shop; it could be a software company with the GNP of Sweden. It doesn't matter. Meaning Scales."

When your dreams become reality, they are no longer your dreams.

“If you are successful, it’ll never come from the direction you predicted. Same is true if you fail.”

If this hit home with you, make sure to pick up a copy of Hugh's Book Ignore Everybody And 39 Other Keys to Creativity so you can get the full story behind each of these amazing statements!

Hugh Macleod is a cartoonist, author and creator of gapingvoid.com and Social Object Factory.  He currently has three amazing books for sale: Ignore Everybody And 39 Other Keys to Creativity, Evil Plans, and Freedom is Blogging in Your Underwear.