Who Do You Need to Forgive?

When you look back on the journey of being an artist who do you need to forgive? I mean, if you've been doing this for any amount of time, there will be people to forgive.

The person who ripped off your idea. The person who told you to keep your day job after they saw what you made. The person who balked at your prices. The person who insulted you in front of your peers. The person who promised you that show (or book, or deal, or golden opportunity) and then flaked and disappeared. The person who never paid you for your work.

I could go on, but you get the gist.

When I look back at my creative journey and start to tally up what I call "a million little humiliations" I get overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people I could forgive. And I feel bitter all over again. Why SHOULD I forgive them? What they did sucked.

But then I remember they're not the ones being held back by the past. They're not the ones hanging on to an unresolvable situation. They're not the ones waiting for an omniscient voice to boom from the sky, "You were right! They were wrong!"

It's just plain ineffective to live in the wounded place.

(How do you know when you're living in the wounded place? When someone presents you an opportunity and you approach it defensively. When you think about your past and feel bitter. When you overcompensate by trying to be perfect. When you turn down viable offers for fear of being hurt. When you believe all the negative crap people have said about you or your work.)

Talking about this today a dear friend and fellow entrepreneur reminded me that I am not the person I used to be. I am stronger, wiser, more powerful. And because of that I would never be caught alive in most any of those situations I used to put myself in when I was younger, situations that were breeding grounds for stress, anxiety and humiliation.

The great irony is that all of those hard moments with all of those jerks are what lead me to a place of greater strength. They're actually the reason my boundaries are stronger. The reason I can say no to opportunities that seem too good to be true. The reason I can spot a jerk, or a drama queen, or an abuser, or a hustler a mile away. The reason I value peace in my life above all else.

When I look at it through that lens and see the bigger picture, I know that my creative spirit was forged in the fire, and that I can forgive those people because they were part of one big, messy, painful soul plan that helped me step into my power.

And that's pretty cool.

But you know what else? There's one person who needs forgiveness more than any of these people. Me. (Extrapolating: the person you most need to forgive is you.)

I mean, how could we have let ourselves settle for less, or ignore our intuition, or stay in an abusive situation, or allow other people's opinions to shape us so thoroughly, or believe what that rejection letter said about work we knew was true to our heart?

I try to remember that we all show up with a stunted child inside, or with a family wound, or with an unconscious pattern, and when I remember that it becomes a lot easier to give myself a break.

Every one of us has been hurt by other people. The question is, will we keep letting that pain hold us back from our creative destiny, or will we release it and move forward?

Photo credit: Patrick Humphries/CC

Artists, It's Time to Get Over Feeling Icky about Self Promotion

As artists we strive to be authentic. We search for truth as we take something unseen and bring it to light. Our creativity is born of our unique vision, heart, and soul. It's hard then to see the concept of making a sale as fitting in with this pure self-expression. Time and again, through mass media and even our own artistic creations (particularly film and TV), we've been shown that salespeople are inauthentic. At best they're shallow and pleasantly disconnected (the QVC archetype), and at worst they're slimy, underhanded manipulators greedy for our hard-earned cash (the Snake Oil archetype).

With this kind of spectrum we're naturally repelled by the idea of trying to sell something.

We take the day job and keep art as a side gig or hobby, so it remains untarnished by the murky underworld of money. Yet, we simultaneously lament our lack of time and opportunity when it comes to our art.

Time and again artists who become successful at selling their own wares are seen as "sell-outs," the art world's dirtiest word and most scathing insult.

We've come to believe that artists who achieve status as not only full-time artists, but financially sound ones at that, lose something in the process - their soul, their vision, their edge.

This is unfair and a double standard. We can't yearn for a culture that supports artists then criticize those who receive support - monetary or otherwise. At this point in our cultural history, sales is no longer something to shy away from due to an outdated belief that doing so requires pimping a product we don't care about to an unsuspecting audience.

Selling is simply about finding a compatible home for the work we make so we can continue to make it. Today, artists who want to be doing it full-time must embrace making a living from their art, and understand that our creative expression doesn't just remain intact in the face of money, but thrives with the acquisition of it.

Truthfully, when we're turned off by someone promoting themselves it's not that they're promoting themselves, it's how they're doing it.

Being authentic is easier than ever. Thanks to the internet and social media we can now directly connect our daily lives with a growing audience. We can share images or thoughts about our creative process. We can ask questions to engage with fans, or for informative feedback. We can show works-in-progress, bringing people into the fold as we navigate our way through creation. We can even post about our kids, our animals, our food and more.

We can do these things, and we should if we want to be financially successful. These authentic day-to-day offerings are how we share our essence and our work with people we feel aligned with, people who want to own what we make. It's time for creative folks to show up, be visible, and let go of the idea that it's wrong to promote our work. The world needs successful, authentic, creative people who embrace their life's purpose by allowing themselves to be supported.

And, hey, even if you put yourself out there and don't make many sales for whatever reason (a reason you'll likely uncover if you keep at it), you can be sure that sharing your creative work will inspire other potential creators to express themselves, or encourage fellow artists to show up and be seen too.

If you want to learn to become a better receiver - of joy, pleasure, money, creativity, and more - please join me for theTao of Receivingonline program starting May 24, 2015!

Photo by MartinaK15/cc

Are You Leaving Enough White Space?

In the film industry when a producer, manager, agent (or, more likely, their assistants) receives a screenplay, the first thing they are said to do is flip through the pages looking at the ratio of white space to black text.

If there isn't enough white space the script automatically goes into the rejection pile. It sounds harsh, but it's for good reason since, generally speaking, one page of a screenplay is equivalent to one minute on the screen.

The white space shows the executive that the writer understands this tight, relatively unforgiving structure. It lets them know the writer did not succumb to flowery, descriptive language, that they likely didn't include a boatload of unimportant details, and that they didn't - God willing - meander.

In screenwriting and in life white space is necessary.

The presence of white space in screenwriting holds the promise of a focused, nuanced, yet engaging and entertaining script. It says, "I'm readable! I might even be a page turner!" That white space is breathing room. It's the pause between ideas, or the time jump between locations and scenes. White space is an exhale.

In life the white space reminds us that we cannot exist within the constant chatter of metaphoric black text. We cannot focus only on output and accomplishments. We must build in the pauses and breaks, because they allow us to rest and help us gather momentum to give birth to the Next Thing.

The birth metaphor is apt, because as with childbirth, we artists conceive, gestate, and labor. The white space is pregnancy, and it can't be rushed, hurried, or skimmed over. Yet, in our culture, we aren't taught to value the white space.

We are taught to be Productivity Machines, and, therefore, are prone to imbalance.

If you don't regularly step back and look at your creative practice as a whole, I recommend it. It's a living thing and it needs tending to. Ask yourself, "Am I leaving enough time in between? Am I exhaling? Am I balanced and focused?"

When we honor the white space we bring ourselves back to center and allow for a more fruitful creative life.

Don't Do What I Did

When I was a budding screenwriter I would do more than 20 revisions on a script before sending it to contests, managers, or production companies. Typically, professional screenwriters do 3 to 5 revisions before sending their work out. So even though I had to tack on some extra work for being a newbie, 20 revisions was total OVERKILL. It's no exaggeration to say that I spent years doing something that should've taken months. Instead of having 10 screenplays in my arsenal, I had 3. Some lessons I've learned in hindsight:

* Trying to make each work perfect is short-sighted. Instead of looking at your creative practice or creative career as a marathon, you're treating like a sprint. In doing so, you sacrifice the big picture for the small.

* The quest for perfection comes from a place of insecurity. We claim that we're only trying to "do our best," when really we're obsessively looking for flaws and missteps and systematically eradicating them in order to avoid the judgement of others.

* The most successful people abide by the rule of, "Done is better than perfect." Instead of giving in to the fear and mistrust of our own abilities, we have to retrain ourselves to do our best within the time, energy and expertise currently available then move on to the next so the work can continue to flow - and grow.

If you find yourself tending toward perfection more than completion take a look at your motivation. Is it driven by love or fear? If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't belabor my work. I'd have released it sooner rather than later and let it live on its own. Too many creative opportunities passed me by while I was searching for "perfection."

How Devotion Elevated My Creative Work

If you're anything like me you might bristle when you hear the words discipline, routine, or habit. I mean, doesn't spontaneous have a much more satisfying ring to it? But, recently I started to see the downside of jumping from one experience (or medium) to the next in my creative life. My work felt a bit unglued and without a cohesive center. I realized I didn't only want more consistent output, but a deeper level of exploration. I found myself wanted to build something more lasting, if only for my own grounded satisfaction.

The idea of devotion seemed like the perfect pathway to this new chapter. It took the dreaded, parochial methodology of "discipline" and replaced it with loving dedication.

With an eye toward shifting habits I embarked on a project called "48 Days of Creative Devotion," wherein I made one creative work a day for, you guessed it, 48 days. My aim was not so much to build a body of work, but to develop a consistent practice.

The rules were simple - make one complete work a day in the medium of my choosing and post it to Facebook without apology, explanation, or justification. Being dedicated to prosperity, I also made sure to price every work.

A lot happened during those 48 days. I learned how to be visible on a grander scale and in doing so inspired other people to do the same. I learned that sometimes when you really, really don't feel like making anything, you make your best work. I learned that the combo of consistency and visibility lead to greater prosperity. I learned that creative devotion allows for new ideas to bubble up and new threads to be explored. And, I learned that just showing up and starting was a huge part of an artist's job.

I recently finished my second round of this project - "48 MORE Days of Creative Devotion" - but this time I asked other folks to join in. To my surprise almost 50 people jumped in at a moment's notice. We shared our work in a private forum and marveled at what came through every day. It was magical.

Are you up for joining me for "48 Days of Creative Devotion?"

We continue our devotion with another round of the project starting on Wednesday March 11th. Anyone interested in creating one complete work a day in any medium is welcome to join us. (If you are a writer of longer form works, you may break this down into something like one page a day, or 250 words a day, etc.) ALL levels of talent welcome - from beginner to professional.

If this intrigues you please email me at allcreativelike@gmail.com and I'll forward you the link to our private, jerk-free, super supportive Facebook forum. And, don't forget, you need not join us to create devotion all on your own. Find out what it looks like for you and then dive in.

Your creative spirit is calling to you.

All Creativelike: 6 Questions with Children's Book Author Anika Denise

I recently had the great pleasure of producing and directing the above book trailer for Anika Denise, a wonderfully talented and wise children's book author. We had a blast filming her delightful family (and - extra bonus - there was copious amounts of chocolate cake!) Anika wrote about the production experience on her blog here, and I'm thrilled to feature her here today as she answers six questions about creativity and business.

1) Anika, can you tell us a little about the creative work you do? I'm a writer—mainly of children's books, although I also write poetry. Picture books were a first love, and I continue to enjoy reading them, writing them and collecting them. I love the interplay between words and illustrations, the perfectly placed page turn, the wide open wordless spread, the economy of language, the rhythm and pacing. As an art form, picture books are unique to me and endlessly fascinating. I'm not a visual artist, but I think visually—and write that way—so perhaps that's why I'm drawn to the them. I also write early chapter books and middle grade novels.

2) How would you define creativity? Creativity is channeling the gifts within you, outward. It's energy. It's how you enter the world. It can be derived from joy, pain, grief, bliss—whatever, but creativity to me is the essence of an individual, put forth. Something of the person is then recognizable in whatever he or she has created.

Conversely, I think our creations shape us. We understand ourselves a little more. We grow and change through them.

3) What are your daily and weekly habits and practices? I'd love to be able to answer this question with a more assured "this is what I do regularly," but my life doesn't work that way right now. I have three kids, one not yet in pre-school, I'm married to a freelance illustrator whose schedule can be erratic and demanding, so I work when I can, for as much time as I can manage. I have an informal bargain with myself to write at least five days a week (which I routinely break). My writer's life is unbalanced at best, consisting of long stretches of productivity followed by just as long periods of distraction. I think the key is, I understand that this is a temporary situation, that my schedule will normalize as my children grow older, and the time for a more stable writing routine will come. In short, I don't sweat it. I congratulate myself on being able to create among the chaos! If I do anything with regularity it is this: when inspiration strikes, I give over to it entirely and enjoy the process. I get outdoors for a little while every day. I try to get enough sleep. I read. Books are vital. They're the air I breathe.

4) How do you handle the balance between the creative and business ends of things? That's a very timely question. I'm in the midst of launching a new picture book and doing everything I can think of to publicize it. Publishers' marketing budgets are shrinking, which means more of the promotion falls to the author. So, at this particular moment, it feels like the business end is eclipsing the creative side, but again, it's about acceptance. Giving my book a better chance in the marketplace is a worthy endeavor, and although it pulls me away from writing, it's what I have to do. Also, I feel like marketing is creative work and try to view it that way. The book trailer we did, for instance, felt very much like making art to sell art. I love that.

5) Any advice for aspiring children's book authors? Read as much as you can. Keep writing and finish, even if you feel it's not perfect, or needs work. Finish the draft. Join the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and go to the conferences and local chapter events. Put yourself out there. Be fearless.

Practice, patience and perseverance rule the day in this business.

6) What's next for you? Next up is a picture book with HarperCollins Children's called, "Monster Trucks!" releasing in 2016. Until now, I've exclusively worked on books with my husband Chris. This will be the first one I do with a different illustrator, so it's a new experience for me. Nate Wragg, a visual development artist for Pixar, has signed on to illustrate. I'm excited to see how he brings it to life. Chris and I have another picture book in the works, and I continue to slowly develop longer works of fiction that I hope to have under contract soon. I just need to follow my own advice: be brave, and finish.

Anika Denise is the author of “Baking Day at Grandma’s,” (Philomel, 2014) “Bella and Stella Come Home,” (Philomel, 2010) and “Pigs Love Potatoes” (Philomel, 2007.) In 2016, HarperCollins Children’s Books will release her forthcoming title, “Monster Trucks!” Her books have been praised by Parents’ Choice Foundation, The Bulletin for the Center for Children’s Books, Publishers Weekly, School Library Journal, Booklist, Kirkus Reviews and the Rhode Island Center for the Book. She lives with her husband and three daughters in Barrington, Rhode Island. For more information about Anika’s books, visit her website.

All Creativelike: An Interview with Poet Jennifer Lighty

There is not much I can say about my poet friend Jennifer Lighty that wouldn't be revealed by reading her words below - she is deeply soulful, articulate, dedicated, and a brilliant wordsmith. I thank my lucky stars for being in her bright, celestial orbit.

How do you define creativity? My hands in motion on this keyboard typing letters that signify sounds remembered in my body—that is creativity. And these letters that merge into words that my brain identifies with subjects seen, tasted, touched, smelled and heard, sounds I first heard when I floated in the dark inside my mother’s body.

We invent stories to make sense out of chaos, or to praise it, depending on which archetypal deity calls to our souls. We create. (Eros, the Greek god of desire and creativity was the son of the goddess Chaos.) When we create we reach into the dark, the womb, into this mystery, and manifest what we receive in the physical world.

Creativity is an everyday miracle like being born.

Tell me about the first poem you remember writing, or first experience where you felt you were "on" to something with words. The first poem I remember writing was in 4th grade. I was 10 years old. It was a haiku:

The old dead tree rocked dangerously, and with one last groan fell to the ground.

I remember being very pleased with it. I have no idea where it came from or what I felt like writing it, but I do remember afterwards that I knew I was a poet. I wanted to be a writer even before then, from the time before I could read. I wanted to read so badly I memorized books that my mother read aloud to me and pretended to read them as I turned the pages.

How does a poem get birthed? Are there stages as with a human pregnancy and birth? For me, there is a masculine and feminine element involved in the creation of a poem. It’s a matter of becoming actively receptive, of being open to both what is in my immediate environment and what wants to come through me from other realms.

Words feel so good when they rub together in certain ways! If I have an idea I want to convey without an image, I search for an image until I find one that feels right. It needs to be intelligible and pleasurable, by pleasurable I mean sound good. I do have to be careful of this though, I have such an attraction to beauty that I have sometimes done a disservice to my subjects by making them sound beautiful when they were not at all. In those cases it’s a matter of finding sounds that match the experience, ugly or harsh sounds, or playing with the punctuation or line break to break the rhythm up.

I also pay attention to where silence wants to enter the poem. Sometimes these silences say even more than the words.

I pay attention to all of these things—every word, line break, comma, period, italics, question mark—every mark on the page, in fact. I am getting better at hearing the line—where to break it so that it has the greatest emotional impact, because I have become better at hearing my own voice, and not the voices of all the other poets I’ve read or heard.

You work is deeply connected to both the earth and spirit. Can you talk about walking between these worlds and what inspires you? It’s not a matter of walking between earth and spirit for me, they are the same world. I am definitely inspired by Earth’s beauty. I want to praise that beauty. I also want to lament what we have lost and are losing as you read these words.

I also want to create a space for people to grieve their personal losses.

I wrote a poem about the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Newtown in which the natural world acts as a mirror for the loss of those children and teachers. It takes place on the oyster farm where I was working the day of the shooting and everything I saw that day—egrets, crabs, mud, sun, shells—was so deeply infused with the symbolic the earth became a mirror of what had happened, and a prayer to the spirit world to help us get through such a terrible tragedy.

I am inspired to create something as elegant and simple and gracious as an egret at the edge of a marsh. I want my evocation of that egret to open someone’s heart to a long-suppressed well of grief inside themselves. I want to write poems that help people grieve and become more fully present to the world, more compassionate for having suffered, and I know this is saying a lot—I want my poems, through the process I’ve just described, to inspire people to make choices that don’t harm themselves or Earth. I have a dread of being grandiose (probably because I am), but I agree with William Carlos Williams that, “It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”

You not only write poems, but also books, blog posts, and articles. How do you determine which form the words want to be? It’s a matter of listening and intention. Sometimes the two merge—those are the best times. With a blog post, I intend. If I’m lucky I may come up with some poetic words, too! The three novels I wrote probably could have been written as short stories or poems, saving me many years worth of labor—I was just really fixated on the idea of being a famous novelist so I kept trying. My articles and essays are lyrical, but are also attempts to convey information or a story. This is also possible in a poem by the way, sometimes I just prefer the art of the sentence over the art of the line.

Poetry, the art of the line, is my greatest love because poetry has taught me to listen, not just to what I want to hear, but to what the Irish poet-hero Finn McCool learned to hear, “the music of what is.” When I listen to what is, I know what form the words want to be.

What's the most exhilarating part of writing? The most exhilarating part of writing is when I enter into a state of being unaware of time.

What's the most challenging part of writing? The most challenging is letting go of my preconceptions, fears, and desires and letting the words tell me what they want. I call it finding the poem within the poem. I think this is easier for a lot of other writers, but for me it takes a lot of digging. Part of this is because I have a fear of being exposed, so it’s difficult for me to be vulnerable, which has led to some dishonest moments in past poems. I still have those dishonest moments, but I am better at catching them and work through them now.

I met the poet Ellen Bass this past winter. She writes with what I would call no filter about her personal life. I asked her what her relationship was like with her inner editor. Did she have to get past this editor to expose so much of herself? Her reply was enlightening and helpful—and humble. She replied that we’re all human and we’re all going through the same things. Those words helped me let go of a lot of ego and write more freely about myself, which ironically has helped me let go of the driving need to write about past personal traumas.

I don’t need to be witnessed in the same way any more, I witnessed myself. My vision has turned outwards.

Any daily or weekly habits and practices? I’m not good with routines, but I do write every day! I live in a stream of words and images that I try to write down as they occur. If I can’t give them my full attention at the moment, I tell them I will soon and ask them to please wait for me. I read all the time—poetry, fiction and non-fiction. And physical movement is an important part of my creative process—walking, dance, riding my bike, and yoga.

Advice for aspiring writers? That’s hard. There’s something about figuring it out for yourself as a writer that is just so important. I have an incredible teacher, a man named Fran Quinn. When I first started working with him it took me two years to finish one poem! This was after writing poems for 15 years or so. I was going crazy thinking I was the worst poet in the world, completely doubting myself. Finally, I started to have breakthroughs where I would understand some simple thing that would help my poems come closer to completion, and I would say to him, “Why didn’t you just tell me that a year ago?” He always laughed, somewhat demonically and certainly with delight.

He wanted me to understand it on my own because he knew then I would really understand it in my bones, the knowledge of where to break a line or when to use a four or three line stanza would come naturally to me because I had also learned how to set boundaries within myself. He was willing to be my guide in getting there, but I had to do the work.

So that, if you could call it advice, is my advice. Do the work on all levels. Let your poems and novels and essays teach you about yourself. What do you need to change within in order to bring them into the world?

If you listen deeply enough, if you are devoted and willing to work, they will not fail you. They want to be heard.

Jennifer Lighty is a poet and teacher living on Block Island, RI. Her poems and essays have been published in many journals such as The Beloit Poetry Journal, The Island Review, The North American Review, and Poet Lore. She was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize by the Beloit and for the Best New Poets 2014 anthology, and is the 2014 Merit Fellow in Poetry for the State of Rhode Island. Read more of her work and about her upcoming e-course developed to connect those on a creative path with earth-based spirituality on her website here.

How To Be an Inspiration Machine

Ah, inspiration. That abstract yet ultra-important thing that activates your heart space and jump starts your creativity. If you're anything like me, you make it a regular practice to seek out stories of inspiring people - people who endure challenging things with immense bravery, or who come up with clever solutions to impossible problems, or who entertain us in the most unique, uplifting ways.

When it comes to artmaking, inspiration is most often found in the works and words of others.

It's the turn of a phrase, the pinpointed observation, the juxtaposition of two colors coming up against one another, or in the brilliantly executed pirouette. Any of these things, and many more, help us get our creative juices flowing, so it's not a stretch to say that if it weren't for inspirational people, our lives and creative practices would be very much diminished.

So what does it take to become an inspiration? How do we act in ways that might fuel other artists?

What can we do to churn out such high levels of creative mojo that we become Inspiration Machines?

Here are a few behaviors and practices I've observed in those who lift me up. With a little patience and a lot of practice we just might get there ourselves.

Pay attention to your thoughts, then choose to speak and share only the ones that are purposeful and considered. The power of words cannot be underestimated when it comes to inspiration. Being a conscious editor - of our written and spoken words - is key.

Always tell people when they move, inspire, challenge and/or impress you. This one's easy. Simply put, it makes people feel good.

Regularly do things that tap into your joy and excitement. Let your bliss ripple out into the world. Others will feel it too.

Tell your stories of moving from struggle to triumph. They draw people in and make them feel less alone.

Share your good news from the heart. Sharing isn't bragging. Sharing is modeling; it's teaching; it's allowing others to be happy for you in the same way you're happy for them.

Look at yourself through the lens of a leader. Sometimes we need to "act as if," even when it feels far from the truth, because when we act as a leader it positively impacts our behaviors and actions, as well as provokes an inspired response from others.

Learn how to excel at something. Inspiring people are often dedicated doers. Commit to That Passionate Thing and keep going for it. Become a master, even if it takes a lifetime. No, ESPECIALLY if it takes a lifetime, 'cause what's more inspiring than that?

Fight the urge to complain by counting your blessings. In other words, "Promote what you love, instead of bashing what you hate."

Do things that scare you. Risk is an inherent part of inspiring others. It's the act of saying to others, "If I can do this, so can you."

Think of your whole life as one giant art project, one grand epic poem. Life IS art and when you look at yours through that lens, you're constantly thinking outside the box. Outside the box is EXACTLY where inspiration lies!

Remember that you, and everyone else you know, is going to die. Sure, it's morbid, but when we remember our fleeting journey 'round the proverbial sun it's easier to make meaningful choices about everything we do. Meaningful choices = inspiration.

What about you? How are you being an inspiration these days, or what more can you do to step into the role of Inspiration Machine? Don't be shy - tell me in the comments!

Photo by Martin Fisch//cc

All Creativelike: An Interview with Illustrator Christopher Denise

Christopher Denise is one of those enragingly talented people who makes, well, everything look easy - from making the artwork, to handling the business, to teaching about creativity, to being a dad. Since he was kind enough to share his truly wise insights about the creative process of illustrating books here today, I'll try not to stay too mad at him!

How do you define creativity? I try not to. It's too ephemeral, like trying to describe the gossamer wings of a firefly to someone that has lost their sight. The closest I could get is something like water formed by a breeze. I try to recognize it (creativity) in my own work and in the work of others. I know it when I see it. It looks and feels truthful, full of life, and made with care. Pretty broad, I know. Sorry!

When did you know that you wanted to be an illustrator? I really didn't know what an illustrator was until I transferred to RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) in the 90's. I always knew that I loved to draw, all kids do.

I just never let anyone talk me out of it and somehow made it into a life and career.

What does the average day in the life of an illustrator look like? It looks pretty amazing from here and I am grateful for it! What an average day looks like depends, in part, on the season. I have been known to play hooky at a moments notice on one of those perfect Rhode Island beach-days. But we are talking averages here. 1.Most days start with the crazy bustle of getting three girls out the door to school/play-groups. Fueled by copious amounts of very good coffee. 2. A daily recap and, perhaps, some creative consultation with my often collaborator and amazing author wife, Anika Denise. 3. Out to the studio to review the production schedule and start sketching or painting on the morning's assignment. I break all of my projects into work units that can be moved around in the calendar. If a particular piece is calling to me I follow the energy and adjust the schedule later. 4. Break at about eleven o'clock to check email and take care of the social media component that has become an important part of my professional life. 5. A bit more drawing/painting here. 6. Inside for lunch with a game of Scrabble on the iPad, or a conversation with our youngest (3 years-old). The conversation tends to be pretty freeform and it is best to stay flexible. 7. More coffee, and back to the paintings. 8. Around 3-4 p.m. I will wander inside for a few minutes just to say "hi" to the kids and make sure everyone had a good day. 9. Painting until about 5:30. Anika is also an amazing cook, so I try to stay out of the way until I am needed. 10. Dinner, wine, laughs. One of my favorite parts of any day. 11. Dishes and homework help, if it is not all done. 12. Reading picture books to the little, putting her to bed, then reading a chapter from something longer for the older ones. Love this part as well. 13. I usually get back to the studio for another two to three hours. If I am on deadline, a bit more coffee here.

What's your working process like? Do you read the book then start with an overall concept, then move on to specifics, or...? I would say that it is more overall to specific. I spend the majority of my time right now working on picture books so I will outline, in brief, that process. 1. I read the manuscript in hand a few times. I need to know that I will be able to connect with something in the story. 2. I begin to break it down into a book. The manuscript needs to work as a book. There are numerous ways that it can "work", but I need to be able to get a sense of at least one of those paths that it might take. 3. Sketching/thinking/looking at other books. 4. More of the above. 5. More of the above. 6. I create very rough scribbles for the entire book. Essentially, creating a book map. Notes included about color/light/references/music notes 7. More of #3. 8. Sometimes tighter sketches, and many, many changes along the way. 9. Painting, changing, repainting. I need to get going on something to see if it is working. Acting and re-acting. 10. Around this time I start painting like crazy with many pieces going at the same time. Always staying open to change with the incredible digital tools at my disposal. 11. While I am finishing up I am usually starting the process all over again with a new book and a new journey. A normal length picture book can take anywhere from 6-9 months.

How long did it take for your "style" to develop, and what did it take to get to that point? I am still developing my style, really. Each manuscript requires different things from me as an artist.

Writing is hard work, and I think it is a great disservice to both the author and their story for me to impose a particular style on a book.

What are the most important considerations when translating the written word into visual imagery? A few things come to mind right away: Stay sensitive to the material. My job as an illustrator is to create a parallel emotional narrative. Be certain that my communication is clear: I am a visual communicator. I love pretty pictures, I love painting them as well! But my job is to communicate something about the story. If I am not doing that part of my job then it matters little how nice the picture looks. Trust your instincts and stand your ground when you need to. At the same time, listen to constructive feedback and see what works for the book.

Favorite artists or influences? A few off the top of my head for different reasons: N.C. Wyeth, Edmund Dulac, Pablo Casals solo cello recordings of the Brandenburg concertos (no offense to YoYo Ma who did a fantastic job with the material), Wes Anderson, Pierre Bonnard, Brad Bird, E.B. White, Monet, David Lynch, Isaac Levitan, J. F. Millet, The Penguin Cafe Orchestra, Beatrix Potter, Andrew Stanton, Neil Gaiman, Ernest Shepard, Harold Budd & Brian Eno, George Inness.

Any daily or weekly habits and practices? I try to start each session, each day as a novice. It helps me to stay sensitive and, in a way, helps take off the pressure. I also try to start each day as a beginner and allow myself to make mistakes. It keeps it interesting for me, and I grow as an artist.

Advice for aspiring illustrators? Besides marrying an investment banker with a penchant for the arts? Make sure that you love this job. It is really, really hard work and many wonderful artists can get run down and fall by the wayside. And that is fine - it's not for everyone. Having said that, it is one of the most fulfilling and enjoyable things you could do with your time. So if you are in love with it, then love your life, and trust your instincts. Don't let anyone talk you out of it!

Christopher Denise is an award-winning children’s book illustrator and visual development artist. His first book, a retelling of the Russian folktale The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship, was pronounced “a stunning debut” by Publishers Weekly. Since then, Chris has illustrated more than twenty books for children, including Alison McGhee’s upcoming Firefly Hollow, Rosemary Wells’ Following Grandfather, Phyllis Root’s Oliver Finds His Way, his wife Anika Denise’s Bella and Stella Come Home and some in Brian Jacques’ acclaimed receive series. His books have appeared on the New York Times bestseller list and have been recognized by Bank Street College of Education, Parents’ Choice Foundation, and the Society of Illustrators Annual Exhibition. He can be reached through his website or Facebook page.

Photo credits (in order): Anika Denise, Corey Grayhorse Photography, From Sleepytime Me by Edith Fine (Random House Kids, 2014), From Following Grandfather by Rosemary Wells (Candlewick Press, 2013), From Sleepytime Me by Edith Fine (Random House Kids, 2014), From Baking Day At Grandma's by Anika Denise (Philomel Books, 2014)

All Creativelike: An Interview with Musician Allysen Callery

Allysen Callery is an earth angel. Her lyrics, melodies, and haunting voice are truly unique and special. What's more, Allysen is a kind and thoughtful human. Man, some folks have all the luck!  Read on to find out more about Allysen's songwriting process, creative influences, and what it was like playing at the esteemed South-by-Southwest music festival this year. How do you define creativity? I don’t. I think that’s anti-creativity.

Where does your songwriting inspiration come from? I get inspired every time I learn a new chord, or open tuning. I’m still learning, even after 15+ years of playing guitar. The melody comes, and the words follow. But sometimes it’s the other way around.

Can you remember the first time you had an experience with music? I was a toddler in Taiwan. My parents were there because of the Vietnam war. My father was a medic. Music was a part of our living space, and I first noticed where it came from by seeing that Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles was coming from a reel-to-reel.

Tell me about writing your lyrics vs. developing melodies? I was a poet before I became a songwriter. I don’t worry about hooks and choruses so much. I want to tell a story, and I want to make you feel and be transported. Melodies just come when I'm playing around on guitar. But the words and music come from someplace other than just me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5zEXZezoXM

What have you been working on lately? I've been lucky to have been recorded lately by the great Bob Kendall, who also laid some production over my songs "for fun." The result was a session for Folk Radio UK that's gotten over 4,000 plays in the last month. I am going to be recording a British Isles covers EP for a UK label, and working with Bob for that, as well. I cannot wait. (Here the session here.)

Favorite artist or influence? Oh boy, so many. I was heavily influenced by all the wonderful artists my parents listened to:  Joni Mitchell, The Beatles, The Incredible String Band.  I learned how to sing by listening to Sandy Denny of Fairport Convention and Maddy Prior of Steeleye Span. Lately I have been really loving Jessica Pratt out of San Francisco. And, Anne Briggs really inspires me.

You recently played South-by-Southwest. What was that experience like? I was very well taken care of at my first "South By."  I was lucky to have caught the ear of someone in a senior booking position, and he made sure I was given extra performance slots and all my showcases were in nice hotels. I made a few wonderful connections, and was written up and ranked highly in the Washington Post. I also made NPR Bob Boilen’s list of Intriguing Unknown Artists.

Any daily or weekly habits and practices? I’ve been posting homemade recordings on my Soundcloud page about every week, some covers and demos that may or may not make it onto an album at some point. I am not a very regimented person, but I try to play guitar every day, and am playing one or two shows every week. I still have a day job, and will probably always have one - I like to pay my bills on time!

Any advice for aspiring musicians? Practice. Be better than you thought you could be. Take risks, you should be frightened what people might think of your art. Don’t try to fit in. Don't try to play it cool. Answer emails. Be kind to everyone. Don’t let anyone other than you define who you are. Get nice head shots. Get a real website. Keep a part-time job that you don't have to get up too early for, that is not too physically demanding, so you can still play shows within a one to two-hour driving radius throughout the week. Officially release music every year. Upload new content weekly. Don’t get hung up on perfection. Pursue the press. Be true to your self, and your vision - you are unique and the world is wide, you will find your peeps, your tribe. They might be sprinkled around the globe, but that’s why the Internet is so awesome.

Allysen Callery is an alternative folk artist from Rhode Island, USA, with an intricate & unique finger style, and a voice that has been called mesmerizing and angelic. Growing up in New England, she was heavily influenced by her parent's British Isles Folk Revival records of the late 60's early 70's. She can be reached via her website here.  (Photos by Gerd-Michael Tuschy)

Hey Artists, How's Your Website Looking?

For artists, writers, and creative folks, a website is the portal to showcase their creative work, so it's one of the most important tools needed for a healthy and robust career in the arts.

Many times websites get stagnant or cease to reflect the quality of the artist's work. Sometimes they were never quite right to begin with - too much text, poor quality images, lack of information, and cluttered graphic design, among other things, can poorly reflect on a creative person.

With that in mind, here's a checklist to help you give your website a tune-up if need be!

ARTIST WEBSITE CHECKLIST ___ Does the graphic design on your site reflect the tone and style of your creative work? ___ Do you have a current bio on the site? ___ Is there a headshot of you to go with the bio? ___ Is your news section updated regularly? ___ Is it easy for people to find out how to contact you? ___ Are the images/excerpts/samples of your work current? ___ Is the layout clean and readable? ___ Is it easy to navigate the site? ___ Are all the images on the site high quality? ___ Is all the text and copy short, snappy, and compelling? ___ Do you have your social media buttons with links on the site? ___ Have you tested your site on multiple browsers as well as on a mobile phone? ___ Do you feel proud/happy/joyful when you look at your website?

If you're feeling overwhelmed, enlist support. Hire a graphic designer or web coder to tweak and update it for you. If that's not possible, consider using a free site like Wordpress, Wix, or Squarespace to create a site that can be self-maintaining. Just make sure the final product is creative and professional - like you!

Photo by Kitty Kaht//cc

Creative Process: Building a Painting

One of my favorite things is to watch a piece of art go through the stages of birth, from conception to completion. Just like with people, artworks have their unique way of coming into the world and expressing themselves. No two are exactly alike.

Artist Karen Rand Anderson recently posted a series of images tracking the journey of a painting, from photographic reference (above), to sketch, to finished canvas. With Karen's permission I'm reposting those photos here. (You can read the full post, with Karen's comments about each stage, on her blog here.)

What I love most about seeing the whole process is being witness to THE SEARCH, the journey every artist takes down the creative path without a clear road map. It's a triumph when we find our way to the other side!

"More Snow" by Karen Rand Anderson, (c) 2014

What does your creative process look like? Document it and tag me in your Facebook or Twitter post!

Oh Desert, You Are My Muse!

After I kicked my starving artist to the curb over a year ago, it freed me up to envision an abundant new life. The main focus of this new life was to create a mobile lifestyle, so I could work anywhere. Once that happened I decided that "anywhere" was New Mexico, a place I'd dreamed of living for more than a decade.

This week marks the end of a four-month stint working and traveling in the aptly named "Land of Enchantment."

My experience with the land, animals, people and flora have been nothing short of soul-satisfying and life-changing. Daily, I found inspiration in the light, the textures, the shapes, the colors, and perhaps even, the soul of things.

New Mexico has truly called forth a deepening of Possibility (yes, capital P), and a serious boost to my creative state.

Swoon-worthy, am I right?

All Creativelike: An Interview with Artist William Schaff

I've said this before, but my creative life is an embarrassment of riches, full of truly dazzling artists who inspire me, challenge me, and cause me to think and feel on a deeper level. Will Schaff is one of those artists. He is dedicated, generous, and always thought-provoking.

Will's home/studio is a place of constant creative motion. Unfortunately, it's in peril. Will and friends are in the middle of an active fundraising campaign to keep this treasure intact, and there are LOTS of beautiful perks for artists and art-lovers who give to the cause. Be sure to check it out HERE.

Will, how do you define creativity? Creativity to me has always just seemed like a way of looking at things. Anything, really. It is certainly not limited to the traditional arts. In fact, I guess a truly creative person wouldn’t let a word like “tradition” confine their actions. So, be it a computer programmer, a visual artist, or a bagger at the grocery shop, creativity is how you look at your task ahead of you.

You work in lots of mediums from drawing and embroidery, to stencil and paper cut. Do you let the subject matter define the medium, or vice versa? Both, really. It can change from piece to piece.

Your work often deals with suffering, whether it be suffering from illness or at the hands of authority figures. Do you look at artmaking as a cathartic practice? Does it help you process and somehow transform the suffering you see and/or experience? It has been a cathartic experience for me, and I feel it certainly can be for others as well. It is cathartic in the way asking questions is a cathartic experience. Being brought to a new level of understanding, or to a better question, can be difficult, but also there is a relief in getting to move on to the next point.

I've noticed dogs and birds show up a lot in your imagery. Can you talk about the connection you have to animals? For years my work only dealt with weighty topics. Folks would often ask, “Why don’t you draw something nice?” I felt there were enough folks doing that, and not enough asking important questions. And, with all my other jobs then, I had limited time to create art, so I focused on what I felt was important. As I have made art a full-time practice I now have the time to comment on that which I find beautiful as well. Animals are what I wish humans could seem to me, a true and high example of the beauty that is God’s creation.

You've collaborated with some awesome musicians (Okkervil River, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Goodspeed You! Black Emperor, etc.) on album covers. How does that process work, do you listen to the music first and then come up with imagery, or something else? I do it simultaneously. A lot of the imagery I provide is as much a look into where my head is on those days, as well as my response to the music. Listening to the music while I work, over and over again, is a big and useful part of the process. And again, none of the imagery I have made for musicians has been devoid of where my mind is at while making it. Hopefully that shows in the work, and helps to make a stronger connection for folks.

You're in the middle of a big fundraising campaign to raise money for your amazing, welcoming, art-filled home studio. Tell me about the campaign and some of the perks folks can get when they donate. The campaign is intended to help get me out of the repetitive cycle of having utilities shut off, and falling into foreclosure. (This is my third time.) I try to keep my art as affordable as possible, while still providing myself with a living. Combine that with the fact that art is not a steady paycheck, and it makes for a tenuous business plan. I have tried to offer perks that allow folks, no matter what their own situation is, to be able to participate. I am offering original work, prints, playing cards I have designed, and an artist residency here at the Fort. The best way to find out all the wonderful options is to go to the campaign webpage.

Everyone's had moments on their creative journey where they really doubt their path. Can you recall a time when you wanted to give it up, and the thing (or person) that kept you going?  Most days I shake my head at what it is I am trying to do. What keeps me going is many things. Mostly, though, people like you, and all those who continue to encourage me.

Favorite artists or influences? Too many to mention.

How about one artist you admire, and what it is you like about their work? Hard working ones. I don't mean to be cagey with my answer, but there are so many I admire. And yet, I have met so many artists who pick and pluck at it like they should be exempt from hard work because they are an "artist." One example of an artist I admire is David Lamb of Brown Bird. He's my house mate and inspiration. Both he and his wife don't take for granted the blessing they have to be working artists. When he is not on the road, I will hear him practicing for hours throughout the day, and then, every night, he and his wife and fellow bandmate, MorganEve, practice together for hours. I really respect that, and it is a reminder to me to never stop honing your craft for the people who are, ultimately, helping you to be able to do that craft for a living. There are others, but I chose him because I literally see him right around me most days.

Daily habits or practices? Probably not many that should be followed by others. Don’t ever be “bored.” If you find yourself bored, scold yourself for not figuring out some way to make use of your time towards a goal you want.

Advice for aspiring artists? I always find this to be one of the toughest questions to answer. Between my cynical side, and the side of me that does really believe in the wonders of this world, I try to refrain from giving any advice. It would depend too much on what mood you catch me in. I wouldn’t claim how I have done things is the best way, or the most successful. Instead, I just try to remind the new, nervous artist that if it is meant to be, you will find a way to make it happen. Might not be the most comfortable way, and you might not have a very long run, but like breathing, you find a way to do it. So just keep at it. Keep your loved ones and friends close, because you will need them, and they you as they struggle with their own efforts.

William Schaff has been known for a lot of things. Some of them admirable, some not so much so. In all things, he gives glory to God. You can track Will down on Flickr, Facebook and Twitter. (Photo of Will and his dog Dinner above by Michael Cevoli.)

The Curious Outcome of Giving Up on My Dream

Last year I gave up a dream I'd been pursuing for 14 years, the dream of working in the film industry as a writer and filmmaker. My love started many suns and moons ago with a lightning bolt realization. I had daydreamed a vivid conversation between a grandmother and her grandson, and it was such an odd, cinematic vision that I wrote it down. Then it hit me, "THIS must be what it's like to write movies!" I went on to devour any book about the craft that I could find, and write my first feature-length script in a week.

As years passed I wrote more scripts, produced and directed my own short films, moved to Hollywood and worked for a big screenwriter. Later, I worked in casting and production. I won some small awards for my scripts and films, and worked for little or no money in pursuit of a self-made, hands-on education. As the years dragged by I saw more peers - and students - pass me by. And, I got more tired, more broke, more hurt from rejection, more sluggish in my output.

I had given up this pursuit twice before following long stints of feeling like I was in the desert without a drop to drink, but last year, on the eve of my 40th birthday, I did it again. I called it quits for good. I gave myself 100% permission to stop struggling. It was hard. Especially because I love screenwriting and filmmaking. But bitterness, come to find out, does not become me.

After I got over the initial depression and despair about spending my whole adult life pursuing an impossible dream, I felt liberated. My creative flow that had been so pinpointed, so stopped up, opened wide again. Other outlets and mediums presented themselves. Ideas started to bloom again along my mental riverbanks. Unexpected possibilities arrived at the proverbial doorstep. (This website being one of them).

The most curious part of it all? I've gotten hired for more film and screenwriting jobs in the last year since I "gave it up" than any previous year. Not only that, but the projects I was hired on were "real" jobs with reputable organizations and rising star filmmakers, and they were projects I felt qualified and excited to do. In short, I set free what I loved and it came back again with a vengeance.

This got me to thinking about WHY it happened this way, and that's lead to a few revelations about the power of giving up. I laid them out for you in nice bold letters below, 'cause I'm cool like that. Dig 'em...

We block energy with our neediness. When you squeeze your fist into a ball, your knuckles turn white and blood stops flowing, but when you relax your hand a bit it starts to flow again. The same is true for our creative pursuits. When I was clinging so tightly, working so hard, yearning so deeply for the Almighty End Result, I blocked the flow of energy - energy that freed up again once I pointed my attention in another direction.

Transmissions take time to reach the outer atmosphere.  When you work for years at something you reach a lot of people - people on the Internet, or students in your classes, or people who come through that gallery show, or who read your fiction as judges in a contest, or people you've submitted to for a project. There are so many ways your work ripples out into the world, but often we only focus on the shut doors and dead ends. The truth is you can't ever know what's happening behind the scenes. Your creative work, when you put it out into the world, takes on a life of its own. Sometimes it takes a lot longer than anticipated to find the right home, and just because you can't see things happening doesn't mean they aren't.

Releasing attachment to outcome allows for a happier outcome. I'm not going to say, "It's all about the journey," 'cause I'm a big fan of end results. But, when I stopped not just expecting a particular outcome, but an outcome AT ALL, they happened in a way I never would've imagined. Having specific results in mind kept me narrow in my focus, which in turn narrowed my possibilities. The more I did my creative work (yes, while enjoying the process) and released any particular idea of outcome, the more unimaginably wonderful outcomes flowed to me.

Begging the universe for assistance pays off.  At a certain point in the last year, I threw my hands up and railed at the universe, "HELP ME, WOULD YOU?" What happened shortly thereafter is, well, help arrived. (I wrote about that here, if you're curious.) I used to be an atheist, so it's taken me decades of searching, and more importantly, experiencing and experimenting, to understand that we are co-creators. When we partner with Source Energy (or Spirit, or "the universe", or God, or Higher Consciousness, or however you choose to identify it) we achieve results beyond our wild imaginings (which, it turns out, come from a much smaller vantage point.)

Enjoying life needs to be priority #1. It's not just New Age Hocus Pocus to say we vibrate at a certain frequency, it's a scientific fact. When we vibrate with joy our spirits are raised and so is our frequency. Since like attracts like, that frequency attracts more joy. The more I dedicated myself to joy and feeling good this year, the more joyful opportunities came to me. Those opportunities not only supported my own vision, but served a much greater number of people than I ever could have envisioned. That's what they don't tell you about being joyful - it truly is contagious.

It turns out that our deepest dreams and desires can be our greatest teachers. It's just that when we're stubborn, narrow-minded students like I used to be, it takes a bit longer to get the lessons.

Living on the Vulnerable Edge

Last night I taught a workshop to ten folks at this sweet, little yoga studio in the southern New Mexico desert. The class was called "Creating a Path to Financial Abundance." Despite the fact that I teach this material online, I'd never done an in-person workshop about the topic. Admittedly, I was NERVOUS. Of the thoughts going 'round in my head, "What if I freak out and make an ass of myself?" "What if I don't know what the hell I'm talking about?" "What if someone asks me something and I don't have an answer for it?" and "What if I come across as ridiculous and naïve?"

To help calm my nerves I pulled an oracle card (one of the ways I connect to Spirit) and asked that I be a clear channel for information to come through, and that everyone in the class receive a piece of information that would help transform them.

Ultimately, the night unfolded beautifully, with laughter, serious admissions about the truth of our financial lives, and much discussion about how to bring abundance into our lives. And, miraculously, I did not make an ass of myself. When it was all over the wonderful folks clapped, as though I had delivered a spectacular performance and not just facilitated a conversation among people.

It was a great feeling, and it reminded me of the truth about growth - we must go to our vulnerable edge, to that uncomfortable place if we want to grow. It's crucial if we want to fight against stagnation. And, as creative people, we do, don't we?

When's the last time you did something uncomfortable or vulnerable for your creative work? How did you feel before and after? Tell me in the comments.

7 Things You Can Do Right Now To Advance Your Creative Career

Anyone who's been plugging along at this creative lifestyle thing for a while knows it ain't easy making a living in the arts. You've got a lot of people vying for what few paid jobs there are, cultural assumptions about the work you make, a widespread belief that you are creating something that isn't considered a "necessity" by most, no clear blueprint for success, self-doubt and/or inner demons, and much more that may be working against you. It can be hard to remember that there are always things you can do to help yourself along. The powerlessness that can creep in must be regularly and consistently kept in check in order to stay focused on being creative. How do you keep it in check? By getting into action.

So, here are 7 actions you can take right now to move your art career forward despite all else:

Change Your Mind. Your mind is your greatest asset. It's also your worst enemy. How you act in relation to your creative career starts with your mind. There's an old saying that goes, "Whatever you believe, it's true." Right now take stock of where your mind is. What exactly do you believe needs to happen before you can "make it" or move forward? Chances are those beliefs - especially the ones that create limitations on you -  are only deep-seated opinions based on your personal or, even, familial or cultural history, and have nothing actually to do with what's possible. Once you change your mind about creative possibility - and expand your viewpoint of it - doors open, energy shifts, opportunities appear. The truth is, changing your mind leads to other changes as well.

Be Decisive. Most artists I know are multi-passionate and full of ideas, so it can be hard to nail down what to do and when to do it. One of the big ways artists hurt their careers is by procrastinating, waffling, or otherwise being wishy-washy about creative decisions. Remember, it's worse to make NO decision, than it is to make an incorrect one. You can always adjust your sails or redirect the course you're on. You can't do anything when you simply remain rooted at the crossroads. Take stock of where you've avoided making decisions, then get in action around that.

Enlist Support. Maybe it's hiring an intern. Maybe it's working with a mentor. Maybe it's getting a web designer or copy writer to firm things up with your online presence. Whatever it is, you need support. (Because we always need support in order to grow.) Take a look at your weak spots - the things you prefer not to do but do anyway or avoid altogether - and figure out a way to get help.

Get More Visible. Think of the all the contemporary artists you admire and are inspired by. How did you ever hear about them in the first place? They got visible in one way or another. They didn't hide in their homes, offices, or studios making their work waiting for a "magical" opportunity to arise. I guarantee, they put themselves out there. We must stop looking at getting visible as self-centered, and look at it instead as service, because the more people who know about you and have access to your work, the more you can support them with your creativity. It's not serving you, your career, or those who would be moved by your work, to keep playing small.

Invest in Yourself. Investment is so important for moving your career forward. Every successful person has invested in themselves, whether it's by purchasing equipment to enable greater efficiency or quality, or investing in a creative coach who supports you in moving to a higher plateau. The trick is to know the difference between an expense and an investment. An investment always pays for itself and then some. Distinguish what you need to go to the next level and get invested.

Eliminate Distractions. Distractions come in many forms - doing more research, reading, going to a movie, the kids, the dogs, the historic preservation committee meeting, the party your friend is having on Saturday night, etc. I'm not suggesting that we don't live life to the fullest. Not at all! We need a well-rounded, full life to keep informing our work and, of course, to be happy. But, there's a point at which all that life stuff adds up to a boatload of distractions, and those distractions push you further and further away from your ideal art career. Someone once said (okay, it was actually Michelle Pfeiffer in a magazine), "You can have it all, but you can't DO it all." So, you gotta make clear decisions daily, weekly, and monthly about what's important to you and your creative career, then eliminate or curb the distractions that get in the way.

Find Community.  Every now and again I hear an artist say something like, "Yeah, but that sale doesn't really count, because she's my friend." Guess what? MOST of your clients, customers, and supporters will be friends. Somehow we've become accustomed to the idea that the "real" people out there, whoever they are, are the true supporters who will validate our creative work. Even if your creative circle grows wide enough to include a boatload of strangers, you'll still have an inner circle of supporters who will be the most consistent. So, it's important to nurture the community around you, as well as expand your circle of acquaintances. Find an online forum, go to an open studios event or an open mic night, start a writers group. Supporting other artists and being supported by them is key in a lasting creative career.

Image by Impact Hub//cc.

8 Signs You're a Burnt Out Artist (& What To Do About It)

Burn out is an insidious artist ailment that creeps in quietly and slowly wears you down over the course of time.

It doesn't always present as a fried, frazzled, bags-under-the-eyes kind of affair. The worst kind of burn out, in fact, is subtle, allowing you to keep on plugging for much longer than you should be. Eventually, though, burn out will grind you down - financially, emotionally, physically, and in your relationships. And, when you finally wake up to the fact that your circuit board is fried, you can't believe you didn't recognize it earlier. 

Here are eight signs of burn out, and what to do about them:

1. You're physically tired on a regular basis, and you don't have an illness. Being tired without being sick is a big indicator you've been pushing yourself too hard for too long. Driving ambition is great when you're 25, but give it another 15 to 20 years and it  will take its toll. There's only so much GO GO GO we can take.  Remedy: Engage in some self-care (salt baths, yoga, deep breathing, long meandering walks in nature, etc.) and take a break until you can get your energy levels back up.

2. It's hard to muster up passion for the work. Where you once expounded effortlessly and at length about a creative masterpiece, you now mutter, "Eh. It's alright," when someone asks you about it. Or, you sit down to work and heave a heavy sigh thinking,"Come on now, I can do this. I can do this." Listen, if you're an artist and you aren't feeling passionate, this is a BIG red flag. Passion is your greatest fuel. Without it, you're steering your ship toward the rocks. Remedy: Stop working on anything you aren't passionate about and take a break. Come back to it when you really feel moved by the work. Don't put a timeframe on this. It might take weeks or months to get the mojo back. Let it unfold. 

3. You feel bitter or jealous when you see other artists succeed. This one is a particularly accurate burn out indicator if you aren't usually prone to those kinds of feelings about other people. It stems, obviously, from being tired of not having your own success (whatever success means to you) and watching your peers (or, God forbid, your students) catch up and then pass you by. Remedy: Look back at your creative history and identify the places where you succeeded. Take stock of them and remember that there were others jealous of you then. When you're done with that, take break from comparing yourself to others.

4. You feel like things will fall apart if you stop moving. Artists prone to anxiety will identify with this one. In this scenario you're a juggler trying to keep all the balls in the air. You know that once one ball drops, the rest are soon to follow. If you feel like this, guess what? The balls WILL drop no matter what you do because you're coming at things from a place of fear and not from a place of love. Remedy: Enlist support, whether it be hiring someone or asking a friend to help, and take a break from the mania.

5. An offer comes your way that you would've jumped at in the past, but now feels more like a burden than an opportunity. I'm not talking about moving beyond an opportunity, which is a natural part of an artist's growth. I'm talking about something that would actually be good for you, but you just can't be bothered dealing with it. Remedy: Reassess your goals, visions, and dreams. Take a break from your creative work and come back to it when you're energized.

6. The business end of things takes up more time than the creative end of things. Of course this is unavoidable on occasion, but if you find yourself consistently dealing with administrative tasks, business meetings, plans, strategies and such, MORE than you're making your creative work, it's a big red flag. It's possible you're even using the business end of things to avoid making your work. Hmmm. Didn't think of that, didja? Remedy: Get an intern, or hire a part-time admin person. Take a break from the paperwork and give yourself some time to get into a creative groove again.

7. Inspiration is few and far between. Lack of inspiration is frustrating for artists. You know inspiration is all around, but you can't find it. Everything seems to have been done before. You've seen it all. SIGH. Remedy: Try something different than your usual MO. If you're used to going to a gallery for inspiration, spend some time in nature or listen to a podcast interview instead. Hang out with children (a.k.a. Inspiration Grabbing Machines), or consider taking a course to learn something new. And, take a break while inspiration finds you again.

8. You feel very alone in your practice. This happens to artists who don't work collaboratively or in a group setting. The sad truth about life as an artist is most people don't care about what you make. Just the same way you don't care about their accounting job. (I know, I know, your artwork is SO much cooler than their job! It is! But they don't know that.) Remedy: Find your community. Go to a class, or a studio tour, or an open mic. Get out there and connect. Start a writers group or a meet-up. Take a break while you find your tribe.

By now you've realized there's a common thread to all these remedies for burn out - take a break! No one is going to give you permission. Only you can do that. I can't stress enough the importance of this. I mean, what would you do if your car ran out of gas - would you get out and push it where you wanted to go, or would you simply fill it up with gas again? Taking a break is the equivalent of going to the gas station, friends.

What's that? You're terrified at the thought of taking a break? The secret no one tells you is this: it will all be there when you get back, and if it isn't you won't miss it. Trust me, I've been there.

And, while you're taking this much needed break, spend some time figuring out how you got fried in the first place. It's likely a combination of factors. For me, it was not taking care of myself financially over the course of time + unrealistic expectations about my creative work + not having enough support from a creative community. When you take stock of how you got to Burn Out Land, you can be sure to avoid that destination in the future.

Up with creativity, down with burn out!

Photo by Tim J Keegan//cc

Eleven Things I Know About Writing

It occurred to me this week that I haven't said nearly enough about writers and writing on the blog.

Perhaps that's because I find the how's and what's of the writing process a tricky thing to identify and nail down. How each one of us engages with this strange human act of trying to accurately convey our thoughts, feelings, beliefs and ideas with written language is as varied as our own backgrounds. That said, I've been stringing words together for almost as long as I've been alive, and there are a few things I've learned about the process.

1) It's much more than crafting words into paragraphs and paragraphs into pages. The writing process is akin to the birthing process. There are stages of conception, gestation and birth. As with actual pregnancy, writing must first be conceived then be given time to grow. That time of growth includes note-taking, outlining, having imaginary conversations with characters, cultivating ideas, mulling over theme, and more. Though there's often not much tangible output during the gestation phase, it must be considered as important as the actual writing. In fact, I consider that stage to be part of the writing process. Allow your creative writing the time and space it needs on the front end and you'll have a more fruitful writing experience overall.

2) The inner editor is the ultimate frenemy. Having a solid inner editor is hugely important for crafting a tight work, but if you can't turn that voice off while you're writing, your work's in danger. The editor should always be in service to the writer, not the other way around. That means, most importantly, when you're writing a first draft, don't re-read and tweak as you go along. Allow the work to be birthed in all of its messy glory before trying to fix it. Do your best to be a writer when you're writing and an editor when you're editing.

3) Everything has a beginning, middle, and end. We all know that stories have a beginning, middle and end, but so do chapters, paragraphs and sentences. When you keep this in mind at every stage of writing you can craft work that feels whole and solid to the readers. Rereading and editing with beginnings, middles and ends in mind also helps you identify where there may be holes or flaws in the work.

4)  It will cause pain. There are many famous quotes about the pain of writing. Dorothy Parker's is among my favorites, "I hate writing, I love having written." I don't know why writing can cause us so much pain at times, I just know that it does. The pain is not an indication of a person's ability as a writer. It's merely a by-product of the process. Don't let pain stop you if you have something to say.

5) Let it be bad when it's bad.  We've all been there, that place where we reread what we've written and think, "God, that's bad." One of the worst things you can do as a writer is to allow bad writing to stop you in your tracks or derail your project. The more you do this the more you know that bad writing is inevitable. Since, as they say, "all writing is rewriting," there is no need to concern yourself with bad writing. Let it be. It will get weeded out later. For now, just be glad that you're savvy enough to know when something's bad. The real problem occurs when you don't.

6) Passion requires protection. Passion is the engine that drives good writing, whether it be passion for a particular subject matter, for the story or for the act of writing itself. When we spend too much time doing things like looking at industry statistics, studying a publishing model, comparing ourselves to others, trying to get more money, etc. we can cause our passion to dwindle. And when our passion starts to dwindle, we're on a slippery slope because this is hard work and, oftentimes, we're not getting compensated for it. What else do we have then but passion? So, do whatever you can to protect it even, and especially, if that means shutting the outside world out for periods of time.

7) Know the destination at the beginning of the journey. For those who want to make a living as a writer it's important to think about what that end game looks like. Do you want to be published in a literary magazine or have your trade paperbacks in bookstores? Do you want to be respected by a small niche of peers in your area of expertise or sell a million copies of an e-book? Probably it's a combination of many of those things. The trick is to have an idea of what you want going into to it. Why? Because writing is hard, time-consuming work and when you do it you actively disregard other things in life that you could be doing like, you know, crocheting, or cooking, or sleeping, or hanging out with friends. When you know the destination on the front end it will save you time and energy along the way and keep you focused on what projects, bodies of work, themes and opportunities are important. Simply put, the destination informs the journey.

8) Don't share until your ready. I never share a project when it's in the first draft phase. Ever. Feedback in the first draft stage can very easily derail a project since first drafts, by their very nature, need a lot of work. Do what you can to get the work to a solid point before sharing with others. Feedback should always only move you forward, never prevent you from moving ahead.

9) Share as much as you can. Once the work is ready, however, share it far and wide. The best way to revise and tighten your work is to find the commonality between the voices giving you feedback. The more voices you have, the better. Beyond that sharing oneself in this way is a brave thing to do, and bravery requires practice. Plus, you're writing this work for others to enjoy, aren't you? So don't be shy. Get it out there and let them enjoy it!

10) The more you write the less precious your work becomes. It's easy to get crushed when someone doesn't respond enthusiastically to something you've written, particularly when you don't have many works under your belt. When you write a lot and often each piece becomes slightly less precious. When the work is beloved but not precious it's easier to look at it more objectively.

11) Not everything is meant to live on and on. This goes hand in hand with #10. The more you write the more you realize (usually in hindsight) that some works are practice works, some are writing samples, and others, if we're lucky, are meant to live on as published works. It takes time and space to fully realize a work's destiny, but the more you do it the more you'll make peace with the fact that some of your babies were born only for your own pleasure and enjoyment. Embrace this fact and keep on writing.

Photo by E. Streit.

Tracking Georgia O'Keeffe's Ghost

I've wanted to live in New Mexico since 1997, when I stopped through Taos for a bit on a three-month cross-country trip. I turned 40 last year, and it really hit me just how quickly life moves along. I committed myself then to getting back to this rugged, dry, majestic place. A month ago - aftermuchplanning and manifesting - my boyfriend and I trekked from New England to New Mexico for a desert winter. I don't know why this place has beckoned me for so long; I just know we should never ignore a persistent call of the soul.

Last week we drove to Ghost Ranch outside Abiquiu for a hike and to contemplate the late, great Georgia O'Keeffe, who called this place home for many years. It's been said her life changed when she moved to New Mexico from New York. Surely, her relationship to the land seemed more intimate than her relationships with other humans. Of the Pedernal mesa (a famed subject of her work) she remarked, “It’s my private mountain. God told me if I painted it often enough I could have it." It's a nice thought, isn't it, that if we create enough work about a place we love that we'll be able to claim it as our own?

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"The cliffs over there are almost painted for you—you think—until you try to paint them."

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"Color is one of the great things in the world that makes life worth living to me and as I have come to think of painting it is my efforts to create an equivalent with paint color for the world, life as I see it."

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"I said to myself 'I have things in my head that are not like what anyone has taught me - shadows and ideas so near to me - so natural to my way of being and thinking that it hasn't occurred to me to put them down.' I decided to start anew, to strip away what I had been taught."

Artists who wish to channel the Mother of Modernism can visit Ghost Ranch to hike or stay overnight. The organization there offers workshops and retreats, as well as horseback rides to places where O'Keeffe painted. More about them here.