Nurture — Days 6 & 7

Combined Prompt: “Share a story about a time when you made a mistake [6] and experienced a failure [7], thereby, learning a valuable lesson and turning it into a success. What did you learn; what did you do differently (in future)?”

I chose to combine these two prompts for two reasons: 1) I generally only notice past mistakes after experiencing failure as a result; 2) the very immediate events in my life prompting my website revamp are the direct result of making such a mistake. I share this in the hopes that you, Gentle Reader, may discover something useful to aid you in any similar mistake(s) you may have made.

I’ve been very open, from the onset, about my difficulties as a PWD artist that has a limited income. I won’t even sugar-coat my situation by claiming that starting this website was for some grand purpose, completely removed from my finances. I started this website, which I pay a monthly fee for, after attempting to do the same on other “free” platforms with the dual intentions of 1) presenting my art to a wider audience, and 2) selling said art. If I weren’t interested in selling my art, it would have been far easier to use one of the oodles of micro-blogging platforms out there. I assumed—incorrectly, as it turns out—that my “art would sell itself”. I thought I could simply adopt the techniques / tools of other successful artists I’d seen and watch my site “grow organically”. What I didn’t realize was that regardless of the successes I had seen in others, I’d have to do things very differently.

I didn’t make this realization on my own though…

Last week I joined the artists’ collective that this 30 Day Nurture Challenge is from. Seeing that my struggles are not unique was an eye-opener! Sadly, the disparity between what more “successful” artists claim their progress to success was and the reality experienced by many artists—that don’t fit into the neatly organized ranks and boxes—is a veritable chasm. Those of us that work in mixed media, pull from a variety of sources for our inspiration(s), or openly use our personal struggles as subject matter often feel unseen and misunderstood by the wider Art Community and/or prospective clients. Many of us create art because we must; we are…driven…by an inner force (or voice). While I’ve always been aware that this is my motivation, I was unaware that there were so many others with the same drives.

This was a huge revelation and the first missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle named “Getting my Art Seen”

Earlier this week, I was made aware of another missing piece. Some weeks back I responded to an InstaGram® post advertising a complimentary 1-on-1 session with a Mentor for LGBT+ artists. I fully expected that complimentary session to end with an offer for further 1-on-1 mentoring at some “reduced rate”. In no way am I criticizing fee-based mentorship; we all should be paid for our services. Rather, I simply wasn’t looking forward to turning down an offer as it simply isn’t in my budget. Within the first 10 minutes of this session, my concerns about cost were no longer front-of-mind; they hadn’t been addressed, but more important things were happening.

My Mentory, Cynthia, asked me to describe the backstory for one of my pieces. She wanted to know about what wasn’t written in the standard description that accompanies most art pieces—dimensions, materials, genre, etc.. So…I told her the story of how "Shai Halud” came to be…

I began by telling Cynthia of who Shai Halud is to the Fremen of DUNE. I told her of their reverence of this immense creature as both God and Demon (Shaitan). I told her of how the Fremen had learned to co-exist with Shai Halud, respecting its vast Power, using that Power to aid them, and being forever grateful for the gifts it grants.

Cynthia responded by asking how this related to me…

In that very moment, I realized I had never shared my personal connection to Shai Halud, its narrative, or this piece with anyone.

I had had many conversations and written many pieces about the transformation of this character within the greater DUNE saga. I can (and have) go on for hours about the importance, the connections, and the skillful writing of my beloved DUNE. But…a personal connection? Nobody outside of my family had ever asked. So…I shared a portion of my soul with Cynthia…

I told her that Shai Halud is symbolic of how I see my “ideal self”. Not in any “god complex” way, but, rather the reverence, connection, and hope that Shai Halud gives the Fremen. I see my ideal self giving freely of myself, being respected (rather than feared: see Shaitan) and loved, and working in unison with others for the uplifting of all. Conversely, I see my current self—and have for many decades—in the Fremen. I see myself struggling against the tides, storms, and currents of an often cruel world. I see myself mostly misunderstood by wider society. I see myself, and many other PWD, waiting, praying, pleading for the “promise” of a better world.

All of this went into creating “Shai Halud”.

Cynthia responded by asking, “Why aren’t you sharing this?” She went further by saying, “Your love of these pieces is obvious! Why aren’t you sharing that love with the world?”.

I hadn’t thought of that…ever. I had always assumed that persons weren’t terribly interested in any emotional attachment that artists have to their creations. But, that wasn’t precisely what Cynthia meant…

She explained what she meant like this—paraphrased as there was a lot:

Your pieces have stories connected to them; these stories are an important part of their impact.

You must begin thinking of your creations as friends or family.

How would you introduce a friend at a dinner party? If you introduced them as you do your pieces, you’d be saying “This is Bill…he’s 5’10”, has brown hair, and wears glasses…” That’s not how you introduce friends, so why would you do this with your art?!?

I was stunned into silence!

This was the mistake (day 6) that underlaid my failure (day 7) in selling my art. HUGE REALIZATION!

It wasn’t that I hadn’t been trying hard enough. It wasn’t that I didn’t have “sellable” pieces. It wasn’t even that I was being silenced or unseen by others. I had been silencing my own voice by not fully sharing the motivation behind my creations. I hadn’t been giving others the option to react or interact with my work; rather, I had been describing objects that others were free to ignore. In my drive to…sanitize…my work in order to make it as “accessible” to the widest audience, I had forgotten that stories give LIFE to objects. If anything, I had been trying too hard by stripping my creations of what made them…them.

Thankfully, Cynthia offered to take me on as a mentee. She feels that my story needs to be allowed room to breathe. She sees my potential Shai Halud. She wants to help me grow into the man that I’ve always seen myself becoming. I will forever be grateful for her gift. So…how do I go about making adjustments? How do I introduce my art as cherished friends, how do I communicate their individuality, and how do I eventually find the strength to let them go (as original pieces) and become part of someone else’s story? This is what Cynthia and I will be working on together.

I’ve begun by taking my storefront offline (you may have noticed it’s absence) for the next week or so. When it again goes live, I want each piece to have it’s own place to breathe. I intend to re-introduce them as the cherished friends that they have been to me. I want to send them out into the larger world as complete entities that are more than objects, with histories and meanings of their own, so that they can inspire others as they have myself. The standard physical descriptions will still be there, but they will take their place as secondary to what these pieces mean. I also intend to offer more pieces as originals. Of course, this will mean being willing to let them go fully into the outside world. I make no promises on which pieces I will offer; I can only promise that I will be better about letting them go.

So, there you have it, Gentle Reader…

I think most (if not all) of us fall prey to sabotaging our own success. We may do it for a variety of reasons, but I suspect that fear—of failure, of judgement, even of success—lies at the root. I know this is true in my case.

I invite you to take a few moments and consider where you may be stifling your own growth, joy, or success. Seek out a trusted person and share your fears with them, listen (and absorb) any feedback they have, and then try to apply it. Asking for help is rarely easy, but it wouldn’t be an option if we didn’t need it so terribly much.

As always, be well,

Gryph