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Why is this such a common phenomenon? Why do so many of us not have friends or family who actively support our creative lives? They don’t ask us about our art, they don’t buy our art, they skirt around our embarrassing little secret: we take our creativity seriously.
Amie investigates.
“How is your novel going?” - they whisper the question in a very uncomfortable tone, like they’re asking about my bowel movements.
In the same way that people don’t tend to like watching us poop, they also don’t like to see us TRY.
Trying is kept behind closed doors. In a cubical. Locked. With the tap on, preferably. Creativity must be kept behind closed doors until society deems you are no longer trying, you are thriving.
Ideally, once you have an Oscar.
Though at that point, they’re not talkin because you’re too much of a “big shot”. (Side note: You may be allowed to talk about your creativity if you downplay it drastically—you’re not trying, you are just doing it for a bit of fun, it’s so silly! Just a way to relax. A hobby.)
I demand a world where we are seen shitting, sorry I mean, I demand a world where we are seen TRYING. Seen CARING. To give something a go, to care and try is fucking beautiful and it should be witnessed and discussed with our friends and family. I want to be asked about my clumsy attempts, my learning phase, my trying, my dreams.
Here is a drawing of a hand I did as I learn to paint. I am trying really hard. See me.
We’re meant to be perfect by the time we talk about our art. There’s no room for becoming. Or, if we aren’t perfect, we’re at least meant to have the backing of some gatekeeper or prestigious award.
It’s embarrassing to be a journeyman because our culture is unwilling to look at the imperfect. We want everything to arrive fully formed. We don’t make space for play and mistakes.
Your dedication to your creativity shines a light on a part of themselves that they have been hiding from.
Art is a mirror. People see themselves in our creations. And the Artist is a mirror too. People see themselves in us. Every time they look at you, chasing your dreams, being ‘delusional’, making cool shit, giving a fuck, they must confront what they are choosing to ignore. Their creativity. Their dreams. Their inner artist. That is incredibly painful.
When your beloveds ignore your creative life they are doing so in order to ignore their own. This is not about you, this is about them. Do not stop. Occasionally, it is your own audacious commitment to your creativity that cracks them open and gives them permission to try.
Another reason our kin are ignoring our creative attempts is because what you’re doing is illegal. You broke a big rule. No one gave you permission to create. To discuss your creativity is to discuss something clandestine. It must be done in the dead of night or not at all.
Because the rule is: you can become a singer, when a label picks you. You want to be a writer? Alright, talk to me when you’ve signed a publishing contract. An actor? Cool - what have you been in? Who picked you?
But this is the age of the artist without permission. More than ever before, we are rocking up and saying: no one fucking told me I could do this, but I’m doing it anyway. It is making people really uncomfortable.
To discuss your creativity, to buy your art, to sing your praises would mean becoming an accomplice. It would mean they are admitting that you don’t need permission to do this. Which means they don’t either. You are tearing away an excuse that has kept them small, and they would rather stay small, thank you very much.
This is a weird one. Eventually the Artist must share their art with the public. But your friends and family have a private connection with you. They are not your audience, they personally know you! To watch you from the public seats feels voyeuristic to them, they are spying on you, and so - many of them just don’t look, they don’t book tickets, they don’t buy the art. Some of them secretly look, stalking you on the internet, but vehemently deny it because that’s awkys. They’re not sure how to navigate the public/ private line. Is this art for me? They ask.
It might not be. But I think a lot of our beloveds need a permission slip. You can enjoy my art! It is yours to consume and enjoy. I made it for you as well. I want your support as a creator, please participate.
At the end of the day art is so fucking anti-establishment that this is always going to be a highly perilous and strange adventure. People WILL react weirdly to you and your creativity. And it’s basically none of our business.
But you do deserve friends who want to talk about your art. You deserve creative community around you. You deserve huge amounts of support. And so many of us are just not getting ANY.
Creativity is a solo trip, we are told. Fuck that. We need others on this journey. At the very least Artists need Artists. We need each other, someone who understands, as we do the brave thing and make.
The Inspired Collective is a place I made so we can hold each other and support each other through it all. It is a response to the chronic loneliness I see in us, as we do so much. Enrolments are open for 6 days only. It would be an honour to work with you, to be your friend, and talk about your art.
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