As the last of my “spec work” falls off the grid, I reflect again on the habits I’m arresting – and the new ones I hope to form.

Through these posts I’ve discussed many of the classic problems that seem timeless in the art world,  most stemming from a personality that (as a very wise person once said) never wants to “put any skin in the game.”

And now I propose the following for your own reflection:   turn your thoughts toward the relationships that you lead, such as with those that support you – even staffing.  Are you training and developing well, or just “well enough?”

I paraphrase Reagan: “surround yourself with those who are good at what you aren’t, and let them do their job.”  Ask yourself, “When it comes to my own goals and strategy, am I forcing others to be that which I cannot?  Or am I recognizing limitations and allowing for a limited growth?”

It’s counter-cultural to be patient.  There’s even an increase in a.d.d. symptoms as more people try to master multi-tasking.  Fruitless efforts are met with a drop in I.Q.

Maybe the “skin you need to put in the game” is not only patience for the right outcome, but even for the right person, limiting yourself (and even potential growth) to that which you can completely command.  

As my own worst enemy I need to keep cogniscent of such a tendency.  If I can’t do “perfect” on a small scale, I certainly can’t do better by overcompensating.

As a typical visual artist, I still struggle with a bit of an inferiority complex about my work, and a perfectionist nature.  This isn’t helped much by my goal to be a professional in all things business.  If anything, it’s only amplified.  However, I recognize these tendencies and try to keep a relatively tight leash on them.

Because I try to keep “raising my own bar”, I also appreciate other creatives that do the same.  They’re good to align with.  It’s good networking and reflects well on my judgement in matters such as referring business to them.  Loyalty is bred 3 ways.

However, these connections are rare exceptions to the rule.  The nature of the creative is alive and well – in every stereotypical sense.  That which makes you a great entertainer also makes you terrible with punctuality, planning, and many other business skills.  Ultimately one will be stronger than the other (which is why agents have such a powerful responsibility.)

While the networking works, a part of my own worst enemy is knowing when I’m networking and when I’m babysitting a relationship. 

My wife will agree that I have a tremendous amount of energy.  I’ve both enjoyed it and also found it frustrating to be alone with my endurance when others have gone to bed.  As such, my endurance for relationships is equally long – I remain loyal, invest a lot of energy to them, and try to do all I can to help/mentor/promote/etc.

But I’m seeing more and more that successful people are not only tenacious with opportunity – even generating it from scratch - but often just accept what comes their way.  They act, they do the diligence and they invite more.  It’s another kind of endurance.  Still, as another return-on-an-investment, there comes a time when the energy put in isn’t reciprocated.  The energy would be better applied to a fruitful direction.

I’m learning to accept that sometimes I need to allow my own progress to distance myself from “like minds”  and enjoy my own ride.  Hopefully I’ll even find someone who will allow me to ride with them to the next level.

There is a terrible 2-part trend in the art world today.  It’s world-wide, and not limited to any particular genre.  The first part is the inferiority complex of the artist coupled with a desire to become a success.  The second part is the individual perception of the artist. 

This is not limited to those who are trying out something new and then trying to make a living at it.  This includes classically trained, highly experienced artists as well.  The artist may not have an inferiority complex but I’ve yet to meet a successful professional that didn’t at least have a perfectionist nature (which is almost as bad in the equation.)

What happens is often a de-valuation of the art.

It’s seen in business – how many jobs are shipped overseas because of the bottom line?  How many corporations place a higher value on the cost than the people making it?  Even the quality of the work falls short of the expense.

With the trend to acquire skills or product as cheaply as possible, our consumerism only perpetuates the 3rd part of this series - the artist taking on too many projects to make up for lost income. 

The worst version of this habit is what is known as ”spec work”  If you’re not an artist, this is the kind of opportunity where you aren’t paid (or are paid very little), but receive “great exposure” for your work.

Exposure marketing is valid – if you’re the new Pizza Hut in town.  It’s good to let people know you exist.

However, there is another form of marketing that drives traffic to you – usually an ad, special, discount, etc.  The end result is to make a sale.  Artists need THAT kind of marketing.

Spec work is not it.  Being paid poorly or not at all also affects the local market.  If everyone in services could agree to keep within a certain range (I’m not advocating price fixing) then the customer could decide who had the most professional, quality option.  As I’ve written before, avoid being the under-cutter – or competing with them.  Most often these people are desperate, poor quality and fly-by-night.  You don’t want to be lumped in with that.

 But still spec customers try.  They’ll tie in the “living your faith” plea or plead hardship – or the most risky “you’ll get paid on the back end.”

I’m guilty of being in these situations – although it mostly occurred in my youth when I was more idealistic, energetic and naive.  But I find that I’m still a little of each. 

A notable example is a recent project whose proponent had actually sought me out on the internet.  He enjoyed my style of work and the openness with which I ran my business.  Being a man of faith, he also appreciated my “attitude of gratitude” and how I gave credit where credit was due (to God.)  In retrospect, I see that he played all 3 cards at our initial meeting – faith, poverty and “royalty” agreement.  But, as a professional I wanted to ensure the work matched his vision and prepared concept sketches to his approval – with the proviso that his work would be completed at a comfortable (but committed) pace with a deadline while other current projects took precedence. 

And then the pressure came.  His lack of preparation led to unreasonable deadlines, rethinking the work, back-tracking on approved concepts and a general loss of time.  Somehow it was my fault.  Not to mention that he developed a problem with my maintaining previous relationships with actual paying clients.  His true nature was revealed. 

In the end, I worked at least 40 hours for nothing.  He received no products, but I also received no pay.

And so  this is the year I completely stand my ground.  It’s true that you get what you pay for, and I need to believe 1 or another truths – either I’m a terrible artist, or they’re a terrible customer.  I have to choose the prior for my own sanity, and suppress my inferiority complex – part of my own worst enemy.

In my last article, I reflected on my need to listen to my instincts and not over-think, judge or even second-guess myself.  My hope has been to become a more fine-tuned creative machine.  So far, it has been a surreal experience, of which I’d like to share a couple of experiences:

In listening to my gut, I’ve cut a couple of business ties – or should I say “allowed a couple of relationships to fall to the wayside.”   I found that I had been doing most of maintaining the relationship and upon further reflection, never profited from the association in years of networking time.  Translation?  The investment of my time was met with a negative return.  It was an overdue time to “sell.”  I found I had more time free to dedicate to more profitable investments of it.  I’m learning the limitations of each relationship and not expecting every tree to bear fruit.

I’ve also developed an instinct about prospective customers.  We were recently providing services at a sporting event.  Normally we put a business card in every parent’s hand – and say, “we do parties.”  You may think it’s an over-statement of the obvious, but I even began to call attention to the back of the card, with a full list of services to choose from.  As a result, we had several parents inquire about our rates.  Not only did I give them an estimate, I also encouraged them to follow up with the office and called attention to many options we could present.  The result was a better perceived value because they learned we weren’t just the service we offered that day – we had much more.

In expanding on this line of thinking, my thoughts have turned towards development in my art.  By employing my instincts and recognizing another personality trait of my own worst enemy, I’m seeing a whole new level of quality.

I should clarify.  As a visual artist, I’m as much a perfectionist as anyone else. I recognize that I am not only my own worst enemy, I’m also my biggest critic, distraction, and under-miner.   In the past, I’ve planned healthy blocks of time for a task or project and then find the entire period waffled by phone calls, e-mails, the environment (such as a cloudy day making for a sapped motivation) or simply a notorious lack of endurance for the task.  If you have any degree of creativity, even if you’re an idea person, you may notice such tendencies as well.

Recognizing these trends and tendencies is one thing.  A good planner can anticipate the likelihood of such distractions.  There are exceptions of course, but you can at least expect to achieve a “B” grade on your efforts.  I dare say I’ve even gotten to about a “B+” in recent weeks.

So when I refuse to turn the computer on, check e-mail and let the machine catch the call, I know I can retain the best part of my day for the best results.  The clarity and peace as a result is again surreal.

A recent success in this vein is worth sharing with you.  I was working on a large piece called “Pain” as a part of a show I hope to develop within the next few months. I had all ready worked out the logistics of the piece and had a good reference for the work.  The canvas is nearly 6 feet tall and to avoid the effects of gravity on thick wet paint on a vertical surface, I became one with the theme and had to lay the painting flat on the ground, straddling over it in an awkward squat.  However, it seemed like the right course of action.  Furthermore, as I implemented various paints, colors, and brush strokes, I found a voice in my head at every step.  “Try this color” it would advise; “Be careful here” at a potential spot for a mistake; “Walk away for a little while” at a time when it seemed a break was in order.  I didn’t question the voice, albeit out of morbid curiosity (I didn’t want to ruin the work I had taken so long to develop but I wanted to know if my instincts were speaking truth!) As I look at the work in process, it’s as if it is taking on a life of its own – just as I hoped.  I found myself being more productive than originally planned.  In fact, I have more than enough time to play catch-up on other tasks.

I’ve concluded that the efficiency I’ve achieved has also become an endurance for ideas.   Creative people notoriously have wonderful ideas (and plenty of them) that lose steam quickly.  This can escalate into the worst case scenario of the “hopeless dreamer” type who winds up depressed or suicidal.  The best case seems to be a relegation to “weird” or “flakey” as many seem to pigeon-hole artists.  They don’t expect leadership or strength.  But what if the follow-through was there?  Is there a chain reaction between instinct and endurance?  If an Olympic sprinter thinks about sprinting too much will he fail to take a step?

In my next post, I hope to discover the next domino in the development of the “anti-stereotype.”

I have a renewed commitment to listen to my instincts.  I wouldn’t call it a resolution as much as a habit-under-development.  By now most resolutions are starting to fall to the wayside and the act of breaking them is almost as ritualistic as making them in the first place.

I think everyone has that “voice in their head” that has grown from experiences, role models and environment.  Some call it the 6th sense, others call it a conscience.  Reporters call it their “nose” and detectives call it a “hunch.”  Manly men call it their “gut” and womanly women call it “intuition.” More often than not it’s pretty good advice and worth at least listening to, but how many of us ignore the red flags anyway?

A classic example of such folly is a horror movie.  The quintessential hiker lost in the woods finds a creepy house and, despite the music playing, goes inside and takes a shower (WHY?  Can’t they hear the music?) 

I don’t remember a lot of help developing my instincts.  They didn’t even have a class in college for it.   But many agree the first response is the correct one.  I would even challenge you to keep track of decisions based on listening or ignoring them – and see what the success rate of each direction is.

Consider instincts to be the voice of experience.  The older one gets, the more they experience.  Patterns become obvious.   Pop culture is notorious for this.  Pick your favorite fad or movie and go back 10 years to see what was popular then.  You will be shocked at the similarity.

I look forward to your response and comments are welcome.  Although I have a “feeling” you’ll be more focused on your own development and too busy to post.