Keepin' It Real

Man, It's tough out there people. Yesterday I learned from an artist friend, working one of our many fall back options-- getting a job at Target to help pay some bills, (often referred to as a J.O.B., not to be confused with actually working for the man)-- that Target is now laying people off. That's one less option.

I'm not there yet, and besides, this post isn't even about that. It's about keeping your creative mojo going despite what's going on in the world around you, even when it seems the sensible option would be to purposely go as commercial as you can. This will surely be as convoluted and strung-out as my thoughts this morning, but try to stay with me.

While hubby and I were checking out some late night T.V. this week we caught a couple bands. Most of you guys aren't that into my music but hang with me. One was Kaiser Chiefs, the other was The Killers. They both have albums they're promoting (duh), and I'd say enjoy similar levels of popularity. Kaiser Chiefs looked pretty standard for their performance, typical brit-pop band. The killers' front man was wearing some bizarre, obviously homemade jacket with a bunch of feathers glued on to form some kind of epaulets. He also was sweating profusely and looked pretty twitchy, actually kind of insane in his black eyeliner.

We got into this whole conversation comparing them. I kept trying to show Dan how while there was nothing "wrong" with the Kaiser Chief's, they just weren't giving it up as much as the Killers. Their song was catchy, and they did a good job. Their guy was hyper-aware of the camera which made him seem vain and bugged me, but hey-- the other guy had an actual costume-- It wasn't like he was "no-big-dealing" it. It was just that I could tell in some way I still can't fully explain, the Killer's music was coming from somewhere inside, or somehwere bigger. The Kaiser Chiefs' had manufactured a hit, while the other guy (Killers) was laying it out there, come what may. Somehow the stakes were higher and I could just sense it.

That's our job creative types. To lay it out there, bare ourselves at some level. It's obviously possible to succeed without doing this. I'm reading a book right now by an author I've really enjoyed in the past, but this time round, it feels like a phoner, a little formulaic. I'm sure he's still doing pretty well though. We've all seen example of this I'm sure.

Last week I had the opportunity to visit someone who began as an art client, became a collector, and now is kind of a friend too, even though we don't really hang out. She and her husband have my art all over their super cool house, displayed alongside many other gorgeous pieces. She has a lot of my older work, stuff from when I used to make things so fast and sell them so quickly I usually didn't even take a picture of them, stuff I'd forgotten about.

Her son was there- this super cool kid, well-- twenty. He's already collecting his own art, and has the greatest energy, just someone you know is one of the good ones. It was so inspiring seeing them again, and seeing all my art in this fantastic setting being really loved and appreciated. It made me excited for moving into my new shop (next week now, I'm being told) and to start making art the way I used to, before the move, before losing my workspace, before having to always be in crunch mode in the driveway. I'm looking forward to just laying it out there, being ok with making a bunch of weird crap in order to make room for the good stuff to get through.

This approach makes no sense in this kind of "market"-- or doesn't it? It's the only way I know to make real art (or writing or whatever), to tap into that whatever it is that separates the real from the manufactured. I have to believe it's more important to preserve that than anything else. That's when you become inseparable from your art, for better or worse.

That's what I'm doing with the writing too. It's weird working so diligently at something you may or may not ever get paid for. I guess the bottom line for me is, I can tell in my own work, what's real, the stuff that comes from somewhere else, v.s. the stuff that's perhaps still alright, but product. I don't want to settle for less than real.

Does any of this make sense to you creative types? Can you feel the difference when you're working on something? Is it immediately apparent or does it evolve?