You’ve chosen an uncertain path.
You’ve adopted an inconvenient lifestyle.
You’ve embarked upon an unconventional journey.
You’ve felt the voice inside you growing more urgent.
You’ve committed yourself enough so you can’t turn back.

IN SHORT: You’ve decided to play for keeps.

This is the critical crossroads – the emotional turning point – in the life of every young artist.

I’ve been there myself, and here’s a list of suggestions to help you along the way:(Read part one here, part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here, part six here, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten and part eleven.

1. Artists are gift givers. Everyday I write what I write without knowing if someone is going to pay for it. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But while money is nice, part of being an artist is accepting payment in the form of how your art changes people.

That’s what gifts do. And as I learned from Linchpin, if your art is a gift so valuable that nobody could adequately repay you, people will be eager to pay for the privilege of being in the room with you.

That’s the bet a creator makes, says Seth Godin. That when you give away something for free, it will be discovered, attract attention, spread and then lead to some portion of the masses actually buying something. But it has to start with the gift. With the intention of deploying your work because it makes you happy. Are you making art to make money or make meaning?

2. Editing is for amateurs. Joyce Carol Oates once wrote that editing a book was like having multiple abortions. Jack Kerouac once wrote that editing was a betrayal of your own thoughts. And Henry Miller once wrote that editing leads to overcooked language.

All three are accurate. Editing is the enemy of expression. It forecloses on your creativity’s full expression. And it leaves your artistic spirit timid and impotent.

Don’t save your opinion for later. Risk at every moment all that you have. And make no restrictions on your testimony. You know the voice you most want to be quiet? Give it a megaphone. Because while sabotage is a safe place to be, the only art that matters is the work coated in blood that reflects people’s realities right back to them.

Make your art raw, bloody and honest. Keep it in the cross-hairs of your heart. Otherwise the red pen will own you. Where are you afraid to express yourself?

3. Maintain artistic perspective. A few sobering thoughts about three famous artists. First, Leo Tolstoy. He had thirteen kids when he wrote War & Peace. What’s your excuse for not creating? Second, Bill Gates. He started Microsoft in a recession. Are you still waiting for the economy to get better? Third, Rodney Dangerfield. He was an aluminum siding installer. What do you need to quit so you can focus on your art?

History is ripe with stories just like these. And if you want to keep things in perspective – especially during the low times – it’s helpful to remind yourself that you’re not alone. That you’re not the only one who’s terrified. And that you’re not the only artist who feels like your entire goddamn career is a hopeless journey.

Use the past to keep the future alive. Do you really thing you’re the first person who thought about quitting?

4. Find your artifact. Records aren’t dead. People don’t want the song, they want a magical way to remember the music that they can own and treasure forever. That’s why digital will always fall just short of art’s full potential. People love stuff. Stuff that changes and inspires them. Stuff they can show to their friends that inspires and changes them too.

The challenge is creating a unique way to extend the influence of your art with an artifact. As a consultant and facilitator, I create identity collages for my clients. These handmade woodcarvings, or brandtags, memorialize the company’s mission into a limited edition art piece. When hung, it becomes an engaging, conversation starting social object that makes people think, blink and share with each other. What souvenir are you providing for the viewers of your art?

5. Always keep kindling handy. Art is more than just what you do – this stuff has to be your life. If you don’t think what you’re creating is the greatest thing that ever was, you’re finished. If you don’t think your art matters in a massive way, you’re finished. And if you don’t think your work is going to change the world forever, you’re finished.

The key is to find private strategies to keep up your original enthusiasm. Two questions I’ve found helpful to ask are, “What injustice did you set out to fight when you first started?” and “What was the impulse that initially got you excited you about what you do?”

Those aren’t questions – those are time machines. And they work. If you want to stay up, stay true and stay fueled, you have to constantly rekindle that original fire. Otherwise your passion will degenerate into a line item. How do you replenish your energy reserve?

6. Paint with the brush of persistence. I didn’t invent the nametag. But I certainly took it farther than anyone expected it could go. And now that word is mine. I own it. Forever. And the people who meet me will never think about it the same way again.

That’s an example of what steady work can finally produce. And the cool part is, you don’t have to be the best – you just have to refuse to go away. The problem is, the odds are stacked against you. Because of our instant gratification culture, we’re impatient. And because of our abundance of choices, we’re quick to quit and pursue something better.

But at the heart of all creative badassery is stick-to-itiveness. If you can get good at not going away, the weak will weed themselves out. And only you and your art will remain. Are you quitting because it’s hard or because it’s right?

REMEMBER: When you’re ready to play for keeps, your work will never be the same.

Make the decision today.

Show the world that your art isn’t just another expensive hobby.

LET ME ASK YA THIS…
Have you committed with both feet yet?

LET ME SUGGEST THIS…
For the list called, “52 Random Insights to Grow Your Business,” send an email to me, and you win the list for free!

* * * *
Scott Ginsberg
That Guy with the Nametag
Author, Speaker, Publisher, Artist, Mentor
[email protected]

Never the same speech twice.

Now booking for 2011-2012!

Watch The Nametag Guy in action here!

Anytime you dare to descend down the unknown path, certain elements will always be at work.

Let’s say you decide to try your hand at a new medium of artistic expression.

Here’s what happens:

First, resistance settles in. You procrastinate. You put the work off. You find other things to do. Jesus, anything but initial execution, you think. Because you just know the first few dozen attempts are going to be crap anyway.

But you snap out of it. You stop watching television, light a fire under your ass and make a conscious decision: I’m going to suck it up and sit down and try.

So you do. And even though the canvas terrifies you, it feels right. It feels true.

Then you put pen to paper. You put blood to canvas. And although you have no idea where you’re going, what you’re doing or how the work is going to show up, you follow what comes out of you anyway. Because practice is the only way to get better.

Then it just becomes matter of trust: Trusting the process. Trusting your abilities. Trusting your heart. Trusting your instincts. Trusting your resources. And of course, trusting the medium.

This level of trust creates a safe and honest space to explore. Not to rehearse – to explore: Failures, mistakes, biffs and all.

So you do.

And just like drawing a bath, it takes time to hit the hot water. So you keep at it, establishing gentle flow, letting whatever pours out of you to take shape as it sees fit. After all, creativity is nothing but active listening. You don’t decide what to create – you listen for what wants to be created.

But that’s when you start to surprise yourself. It’s like, out of nowhere, with one stroke of the pen, you look down and think, “Whoa. This actually pretty good.”

You enjoy a celebratory pretzel. Nothing like a good victory dance to recharge your artistic spirit.

Okay. Enough salt. Back to work.

This time something feels different. This time, you return with newfound strength, fueled by the fruits of your creative progress. And this inspires you to do more, to do better.

So you do.

The progress continues.
The momentum accumulates.
The canvas starts to stare back at you.

And that’s when you realize that it’s not actually canvas at all – it’s a mirror.

No wonder creating art is so scary: It’s nothing but a stark reflection of your truth.

Whatever you put down is who you are. Gulp.

But after a while, the confrontation isn’t so bad. You start to like what you see more and more with each stroke. And you say to yourself, “Seriously man, this thing is really starting to look good.”

So the cycle repeats itself. You get pumped and create more. You just let it flow. It builds and builds and builds. And even though you’re scared, even though you’re confused, you find a place to put the fear and use it as fuel.

That’s when you start thinking about the future.
That’s when you start believing in your creative vision.
That’s when you start imagining how good your work is going to become.

And at that point, it’s kind of hard to stop yourself.

LET ME ASK YA THIS…
Will you create art that matters?

LET ME SUGGEST THIS…
For the list called, “72 Superb Songs Under Scott’s Fingernails,” send an email to me, and you win the list for free!

* * * *
Scott Ginsberg
That Guy with the Nametag
Author, Speaker, Publisher, Artist, Mentor
[email protected]

Never the same speech twice.

Now booking for 2011-2012!

Watch The Nametag Guy in action here!