I.
Art is transactional
I get the most out of my work during the creative process. Once a piece of work is finished, I don’t really need it anymore. I put it out there, and you get to take ownership of it.
I really mean that. It becomes yours literally. You buy it, experience it, and form opinions about it. Doing so makes it yours.
Once you own the work, whether you think it’s good, bad, or just aggressively okay is your privilege in a unique transaction between the two of us.
You have this privilege because you are also a creator; you are helping me in the creative process by deciding what the work means to you. It takes both of us to make this work.
Don’t look to me to tell you “what it means.” That’s your privilege. Looking to me for answers is the wrong way to experience this transaction.
Because…
II.
Artist intent doesn’t really matter
Imagine opening a paper to find a crossword puzzle with all the answers written in. Not exactly transactional, is it?
I don’t look to other creators to explain their work to me, and when they do, it feels like I’ve lost something in the transaction.
If I have “the answer,” their work doesn’t have to stick with me. If anything, it makes it easier to forget.
It’s a pre-solved puzzle. It doesn’t require anything of me.
A creator needs to put everything they want to say in the work itself and leave it there. Not create a puzzle only they can solve for you later.
We have to be humble and stay out of the way. For the audience’s sake, as well as our own.
I won’t comment on my work, nor analysis of my work, nor criticism of my work.
As much as I might want to, I think it limits the freedom of the audience since they may (incorrectly) give me some higher level of authority over “what it means.” I view art more democratically than that. You can be trusted with it.
Let me clarify that I can stick up for myself if I think someone is being unfair to me. Attack one’s work, and the artist should respectfully stay mum. Attack one’s person, those protections dissolve.
Now, here’s how I’ll attempt to honor I and II.
III.
Stay smaller than the work
Being online helps creators cultivate an audience. It’s a gift.
Something that can help drive engagement is wading into the discourse, whether it’s a comics industry-related thing, or a broader sociopolitical issue.
On one hand, I do think it’s important to be bold and courageous and to speak up on matters of right and wrong that light fire in your spirit.
However, I think it’s good for creators to do so sparingly. For one, I think the fewer the words, the greater the impact. For two, given the way these platforms are designed, weighing in often looks less like moral leadership and courage, and more like performative virtue signaling.
Put another way, you are rarely a master of the discourse. But you are always its servant.
Sure, I have some internal conflict about this. Am I above the discourse jockeying? Hell no. I fail this one constantly. Especially lately. I do think it’s important to stand up for what I think is right.
But in the same spirit as point II, I think I owe it to any reader that comes my way to not distract them with my personal opinions and perspectives on anything. I highly, highly doubt it’s what the vast majority of them follow me for.
That doesn’t mean not speaking up at all. But it does mean not speaking up about everything.
As well, you don’t know how I vote, how much money I donate to causes I think are important, whether I’ve stood on a protest line, how I talk to friends and family I disagree with, or any of it. And that kind of stuff is just materially more important, and does materially more good, than whatever happens online.
Like I said, this principle is difficult to stick to. If I fail, I will at least attempt to do so in a way that emphasizes good faith, the comity of man, and a commitment to the de-radicalization of our rhetoric.
So pledge number one is to attempt to weigh in less. To pick my battles. Pledge number two is to attempt to do so more constructively.
Before you go find some tweet where I called someone a “cunt,” yes, as I’ve said, I have failed this one. Lots.
I’m not going to go back and cover my tracks. I’m just going to try and do better tomorrow.
I’m no moral figurehead anyway. I’m flawed, and I reserve the right to be flawed.
This is a tough one. I fall short. But I believe it.
IV.
I work for my own pleasure
I like “likes.” I like upvotes on reddit. I like compliments, from fans as well as peers.
But there are problems with this. The feeling of accomplishment is fleeting. There are never enough “likes.”
Though artists need to use tools like social media to promote their art, it’s easy to get swept up into that culture of measuring self-worth by “likes.”
For me, this leads to checking for notifications constantly, chasing that elusive, momentary feeling of satisfaction that yes, people recognize you are talented.
And when that does not happen fast enough, or the response isn’t large and effusive enough in its praise, I tend to compare myself to other artists. At first, I look at artists who seem “comparable” in talent and am envious that they’ve cultivated more attention. Eventually, I look at artists I regard as inferior.
And that’s when it’s about time to stop this silly game. Because it’s art. It’s entirely subjective. Comparable, superior, or inferior are entirely in the eye of the beholder, and nothing is more toxic than this set of behaviors I turn into habits: checking screens relentlessly, consumed with envy, pointlessly judging other artists.
So, I do my best to work for my own pleasure and my own pleasure alone. When I’m able to slip into this rhythm, sure, I miss the fleeting dopamine hits. But the steady contentment and pleasure of the work is a cleaner kind of fuel. The time I’ve added back into putting out the best possible work I can muster is invaluable.
I also find it creates a certain insulation from critics, as well. Living in the dopamine churn, at least for me, makes me much more hostile to a critic. But working for my own pleasure makes it easy to shrug and get on with more work.
Every second of life is an unrepeatable gift, and I find that the more seconds spent productively and the fewer seconds spent online consumed with envy and resentment, the better.
V.
Draw every goddamn day
Every day’s job is to catch you and kill you. Eventually, one of those days will.
Don’t make excuses. Don’t wait for inspiration to hit.
Don’t leave it unfinished if you can help it. And if you woke up today, you can.
Yes, these are boundaries, but I do want to hear from and cultivate relationships with people who enjoy my work. Feel free to email me, visit the contact page, or DM me on Twitter or Instagram. It’s all open. Let me know what’s on your mind.
*r