A while back I presented to a bunch of young entrepreneurs and suggested that money was a terrible way to measure success. And I honestly believe that. I’ve since added that it’s a pretty fucking excellent way to pay the rent though, so I don’t for a second mean to suggest money is completely unimportant. I’m an idiot, but I’m not that big an idiot. Having said that, some of the most successful things I’ve ever done, in terms of achieving a particular outcome, have been spectacularly unsuccessful financially. I’m not oblivious to the role money plays in our lives, but in a world where I’m now more interested in making things better than making money, that’s how I see things.
In my role as a Creative Director and, at times, I suppose, artist of sorts, ‘success’ is a funny thing to define. And you sure as shit better not use money as your yardstick cause generally speaking artists and money go together like Donald and Hilary.
Over the years when talking with young creative people, I’ve spoken about the importance of having an ‘internal barometer’. Which is quite different to an internal thermometer. Quite different. The ‘internal barometer’ theory is my way of explaining how important it is that we don’t take all our validation externally from the opinions of others – especially clients. For all sorts of reasons, it’s not unusual for clients to approve terrible work, and knock back amazing work. Perhaps for insightful strategic reasons. Perhaps because they took the work home and their partner just doesn’t like red. Or perhaps because they’re fucking idiots that wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit them on the arse. It happens. And that’s where the ‘internal barometer’ comes into it. You have to be able to self evaluate your own work harshly, but also honestly and fairly, so that you know when you’ve done a good job, regardless of whether or not others agree with you.
I’ve had plenty of shit work produced over the years, and plenty of great work that never saw the light of day. Trust me, it happens all the time.
Don’t get me wrong, part of our job is to have happy clients, so if they’re not happy, then I guess technically, no matter how great your idea is, you haven’t done your job properly. So it’s back to the drawing board. But that doesn’t mean the work you’ve created is shit. It might be. But not necessarily. And that’s important to know. Because having your hopes and dreams crushed on a daily basis by those above you with the power to approve and reject your ideas, your art, is tough, unless you use your own internal barometer to know when you’ve created something worthwhile regardless of whether or not those specific people agree with you or not.
Fuck money. Fuck approval. They do not define you or your work.
I only tell these stories because when I woke up this morning and saw that I’d gotten a few likes on some of the pictures I took yesterday, I felt quite chuffed. Likewise with my latest Rainbow Run pics. And I thought to myself “self, when did you get so fucking superficial that the validation of others meant so much?”. Well, the reality is, validation matters. It’s not everything, of course, but it’s not nothing.
The value of art, for example, doesn’t change based on how any people like it, except it kind of does, doesn’t it? Whether one person or a million people like a painting doesn’t make it any different, but it does make it… something. I’m not even sure what. More popular, by definition certainly, but more successful? Maybe. And more likely to help you pay the rent? Definitely.
My new (old) album.
When I create my own art, when I take photos, my primary audience is me. I simply do stuff that I like. And if others agree, then so be it. Because what I do for a living is doing stuff for others, it’s really important I don’t get sucked into doing that when I’m supposed to be doing something for myself. When I started taking and sharing bird pics, I had no idea if anyone would come along for the ride. I did it because I really enjoyed it. The fact some others have enjoyed it too, is a bonus.
It’s a little known fact I’ve actually written an album of pop songs. Most of those songs are the better part of 30 years old now, and there they sit, gathering dust. I bust them out from time to time, usually on road trips when I’m getting tired, because singing along trying to remember the words engages my brain and helps me stay awake and alert. Lyrically they’re pretty superficial and you wouldn’t get much of a prize for guessing what they’re about. There’s “I Walk Away”, “More Than Words Can Say”, “Without You”, “All I Wanted”, “With Our Love”… you get the idea. Unsurprisingly, they’re mostly angsty adolescent love songs. And the funny thing is, I fucking love them. They’re my art. I created them. And despite not being very popular – only a handful of people on the planet have ever even heard them and I’m not sure any of them liked what they heard – that art is really valuable to me, and I consider myself a massive success for ever having written them. Yay me. But I’m not gonna lie, if I recorded them and put them on iTunes and people downloaded them, I’d definitely feel more successful, because a big part of art is, I think, in the sharing. (I’ll let you in on a little secret, one of my ultimate bucket list items is to properly record and produce at least a few of them and I’m really hopeful that may still happen.)
Validation, or maybe let’s call it ‘reaction’ or ‘appreciation’ is fundamentally important. The lack of it doesn’t mean your art is worthless any more than lots of it is some sort of guarantee of quality. But it has its place.
A bit of a thankyou.
So to those of you who take the time to like or comment on my art from time to time, thanks. I don’t think I’m alone when I say sometimes just a little bit of validation, a little bit of support or encouragement, is what it takes to keep going, keep creating, keep sharing. What may seem like the simplest of irrelevant actions on your part, liking a post, could be the difference between an artist continuing or giving up. I know social media validation gets a bad wrap in modern society, that people say we’re superficial wankers or whatever, but support and encouragement comes in many shapes and forms, so why not on social media as well?
To any fellow artists out there, the lesson is to not be too discouraged by a lack of it. Stick at it. Keep creating. And when you do manage to get a little bit, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with using it to fuel you. Just make sure it’s not your only source of fuel or you’re fucked.
And on a final, more personal note, the same can be said of activism. My one-man Rainbow Flag campaign would be way less meaningful if no one bothered to comment or like or support me on my way. If I’d run the Murray Bridge Half Marathon and no one had said anything positive or supportive, it may well have been a one-off. I probably would have thought it was a ridiculous idea, (it may well still be that!), and a waste of time and just shelved it. Instead, one or two people offered support and that was enough to suggest it was important. I didn’t need a million likes or a medal of honour, but I did need to know I wasn’t literally the only person on the planet who thought it was a good idea – otherwise, what’s the point?
I’m literally flying that flag for other people, and if no other people think it’s meaningful, I may as well just give up and do something else. So when people comment or like my little Rainbow Run posts, it’s not about ego, it’s about knowing that something I’m doing matters even just a little bit. And that matters to me.
What you do makes a difference.
So next time you see a post, be it one of mine or anyone else’s, don’t just decide whether you like it or not, decide whether you think that person would appreciate your support or not. Decide whether a silent word of encouragement that takes you just one little click, might well be the difference between someone going on, or giving up.
We can all sit here and say it shouldn’t be that simple. That people shouldn’t put so much weight on the opinion of others. But we do. I do. They do. Nearly all of us do in some way, shape or form, at least some of the time. So don’t be afraid to click that little ‘like’ button. Or actually, I’m more likely to click the ‘love’ button these days. Write a few words. Even send them a message. You just never know what role you might play in someone going on to do really amazing things.
Even at the ripe old age of old as fuck, the support of others is one of the things that keeps me going. So to each and every one of you who have done that for me, especially recently when things have been a bit bumpy, thankyou. Maybe that makes me a superficial egotistical asshole, but for what it’s worth, I’m a really grateful superficial egotistical asshole.
I don’t send out newsletters very often, and sure as shit don’t send spam, but if you’re keen to get semi-regular updates of the stuff I write, click here to sign up.