 Ruth Asawa, Untitled, 1954, Enameled copper and iron wire
We are living in a time of adversity, complete with its own ugly, venomous toads at the helm, and would do well to remember lessons of the past. I find inspiration in the life and career of the sculptor Ruth Asawa, currently having a retrospective at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (the exhibition travels to New York’s MoMA in the Fall).
Although Asawa’s remarkable sculptures need no backstory to explain their power, her life as an Asian woman artist contains multiple examples of overcoming real obstacles and discrimination embedded in the law. Born in California into a family of Japanese immigrants, Asawa was 16 when they were sent to a Japanese internment camp. Despite this wartime oppression, she learned how to draw from artists and illustrators also interned at the camp. She originally wanted to be a teacher, but again her Japanese ancestry denied her a teaching position during the war, so she decided to concentrate on art. Later, at Black Mountain College in North Carolina, she studied with Josef Albers and Buckminster Fuller. She began to create the suspended, looped and tied wire sculptures for which she would become famous. When Asawa married the architect Albert Lanier, interracial marriages were illegal in all but two states, so the couple moved to San Francisco, where she found her place in the art community. Defying all stereotypes about what was possible for a woman artist, she and Lanier had six children. Every time Asawa encountered an obstacle, she managed to move through it, and found a precious jewel of possibility.  Faced with misbehaving technical devices, most of us have figured out a simple hack: turn it off, unplug it, start again. A similar principle applies with human communication: change the channel.
The artists I know complain that nobody answers their inquiries. You craft a careful email message, asking for information, or requesting a meeting, or presenting a proposal. You leave your contact information, and look forward to a quick response. And then nothing happens. No one answers, or even acknowledges the message. Many of us begin to fill the silence with our own insecurities, deciding they hated the proposal, or found the question inappropriate. Then we give up. My best advice is to change the channel of communication. If you sent an email, follow up with a phone call. If you’ve been texting and suddenly all goes silent, make a phone call. If your contact is a local organization, visit them in person. If you’ve submitted a written proposal through an online process, send it again via snail mail, or send an inquiry via LinkedIn or Instagram. Try alternate means of communication at least three times. Then wait two weeks (unplug yourself), and do it again. This is like a system reset. The reason all of this is necessary is that we now communicate on too many channels, and they get overloaded. The circuits are jammed. You can check your route on google maps, to find out if there’s too much traffic, but communication channels are not easily seen. And don’t forget to try an old-school method of communication – ask somebody. I was recently frustrated because an editor wasn’t answering my emails. A friend who knew her personally explained, “Oh, didn’t you know? She just had a baby.”  Artists are never only one thing. Your creativity flows in many directions. Painters paint abstracts and landscapes, which may turn into abstract landscapes. Sculptors create figures but also make ceramic boxes. Visual artists experiment with sound.
All of this imagination seems natural and right, until your art starts getting criticized or misunderstood. “She hasn’t yet found her voice,” they say; “his work is all over the place.” Galleries are famous for this attitude, asking artists to present “a coherent body of work.” So what do you do? Should you stick to one theme, one medium, one process? The answer is a resounding no, but it’s still your job to help viewers understand how your work makes sense as a whole. You don’t need to put yourself in a box, but you might need to find the right umbrella. A good umbrella lifts you up (think Mary Poppins). It places your work in a larger context. It can be straightforward, where you have a series of explorations using different media, or different materials. Perri Howard says that her artwork “resides within the emerging genre of New Polar Aesthetics, expressed through painting, drawing, sculpture, and sound.” Sometimes your umbrella is a broad concept. Nina Elder states that she is “an artist and researcher whose work focuses on changing cultures and ecologies.” Even when you focus on one subject, it may express multiple meanings. Janet Jacobs explains: “Light is my primary subject. It is the way we see in the world. It’s how all things grow on the earth, and it is a metaphor for awareness.” Remember, Mary Poppins’ umbrella had magical powers. It became her parachute into new places and a compass pointing her in the right direction. Where will your umbrella take you?  All American (2017) by Amy Sherald - Courtesy of Monique Meloche Gallery Amy Sherald is best known for her iconic portrait of First Lady Michelle Obama (2018). When she was honored with this commission, she had been creating portraits of Black Americans for over a decade. Now, in her first major retrospective, we see 50 works that express what she calls her Democratic vision, portraits of everyday Black Americans.
Sherald’s portraits reveal the quiet dignity and strength of individuals going about their everyday lives. A man sits atop a tractor, proud to be a farmer when his ancestors were forbidden to own land. “The Bathers” shows two young girls holding hands, dressed in colorful two-piece bathing suits, in a wry commentary on earlier works by Renoir and Cezanne. A man in a polka dot shirt smiles shyly, and is simply titled “Handsome.” Sherald describes how she finds her subjects: “I look for something I’d call presence—this quiet magnetism that pulls me in. It’s really about seeing someone who feels like they already have a story to tell, even before I paint them.” The portraits seemingly refuse to make political statements. These individuals do not represent anything other than themselves. They simply claim their humanity, in what Sherald calls “a gentle presentation of Black identity.” So it is shocking to find ourselves in this political moment, when images of Black Americans are being flagged for removal in a purging of DEI content. Just as Sherald’s exhibition travels from SF-MOMA to New York’s Whitney Museum, the goons now in power are attempting to eliminate the historical record of achievement by people of color. This includes images of the Tuskegee Airmen, the nation’s first Black military pilots in World War II. These heroic figures live on in the faces of Sherald’s everyday Black Americans.  Many artists distinguish between their art practice and having a “real job.” They are happy to have the freedom and flexibility that comes from doing creative work. They remember the restrictive aspects of having what we used to call a “job job.”
Most important, you let go of your own ambivalence and second-guessing about what you should be doing with your time. You have a job. You’re in the studio, at work, and everything else can just wait.  Even if you don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, take the time to look ahead and think about what you want to accomplish.
What will it take to reach your most challenging goals? Most of us can visualize what success would look and feel like, but when we try to see the path forward, it seems to be full of obstacles. These big boulders and little rocks, which can be both internal and external, get in the way of progress. They often take the form of “if onlys.” If only I had an MFA, if only my kids were older, if only I lived in a bigger city. When you focus on conditions that are hard, or even impossible to change, you end up sitting down in the middle of your path. Don’t hang on to dysfunctional behaviors and ways of thinking, as they can provide an excuse for staying stuck. It’s better to focus on what you do have, your strengths and resources, your talent and your vision. Remember what you’ve already accomplished, no matter how long it took. When you let go of your “if onlys” you make space for positive energy and new ideas. As you think about what it will take to reach your most challenging goals, keep the focus on actions within your control. Ask yourself questions like these:
When you start getting answers to your questions, identify next steps. In this way you have the beginnings of a plan for the New Year.  For my last post of the year I wanted to look back at what seemed to matter most in my work with artists.
My New Year’s Resolution, as both a friend and coach, was to “talk less, listen longer.” That vow led to another mantra that I like: ask better questions. Here are two of mine: 1. How do artists reach the top? The Whitney Biennial happened again this year, celebrating artists wildly diverse in terms of race, gender, and subject matter, but strangely uniform in geography. Over 80% of the artists selected live and work on the coasts, primarily in New York and California. I was tearing my hair over this when I decided to dig deeper. I found that most of these artists actually developed their work and careers through exhibitions in small art centers and museums throughout the country. Artists who reach the top have put in the time and effort to gain visibility by showing their work all over the place. Nobody starts with a solo exhibition at MOMA. 2. What are the myths holding artists back? The primary debilitating myth is that you can’t combine a successful career with an authentic creative life. I believe the opposite is true, as I see how artists express their values through their work. Some do so through explicit social or political content, but that’s not the only way. Other artists let their art tell us what matters to them: the healing power of light in the landscape, the meaning of sound in the quiet waters of the arctic. Artists reveal the world to us. So try, in 2025, to create work that reflects what matters most to you. Then share it with others.  The concept of gratitude can be more than a platitude (sorry!) if you turn it into an active thing. You can create a circle of gratitude that starts small and personal and grows so that it affects the lives of others.
Instead of focusing on all that went wrong in 2024, take a moment to acknowledge what you’ve managed to accomplish, and remember the people who helped make it happen. Think about friends and family, teachers and mentors, other artists who have encouraged you. Then let them know how they helped you, and express your appreciation. Be specific! The circle of gratitude is created when someone else understands that they have had an impact on your life, that they are part of your human connection. As you consider what you’re grateful for, give those gifts back to others. For example, If you’re now part of a community of artists, reach out to new people and invite them in. If you have discovered new resources or opportunities, let others know how you found them and what you’re learning. If you have struggled to stay positive this year, be honest about your doubts and how you manage to keep going. A spirit of generosity is the foundation of the circle of gratitude. At this time of year people who want to give back volunteer at soup kitchens and shelters, but sometimes forget to pay attention to those close to home. Tell the people close to your heart what you’re grateful for, and give specific examples. When they share similar thoughts, you deepen the conversation. Choosing to make art in the face of intractable social and political problems is always an act of courage. Remember to be grateful for your own creativity.  Most of us are still trying to understand the recent election, making sense of it however we can. It seems to me that if you cannot absorb the big picture, it is helpful to look at the details. A good friend of mine was gazing at the big screen, and took a snapshot of one race in Virginia, where the winner was a personal favorite. She found a small win in the midst of major loss.
And that’s the only advice I have right now that might apply to artists struggling to create an authentic life in difficult times. Your own small wins matter, and sometimes they’re all that sustains you. The art you are making, your effort to show and sell it, your network of supporters, all create the fabric of your art practice and career. Think about your own small wins in the last year. Some of these will have been surprises, seemingly coming out of the blue, but pay attention to how they happened for you. Maybe you tried new things, or let yourself be vulnerable in new ways, or reached out to new sources for help and advice. Also make note of what hasn’t worked for you. Don’t continue to bang against doors that won’t open. One of my favorite mantras for artists is: do more of what’s working, do less of what’s not working, and try something different to see if you get better results. Avoid isolation. So many artists are introverts, and withdraw themselves when they are struggling with disappointment. Find your community, spend time with people who share your values, use your art to explore what you are thinking and feeling. Then focus on creating small wins.  A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the process of creating momentum in your art career. The idea was to set broad goals that would put you in motion, get you unstuck, and spark your creative juices.
Once you are in motion, what happens next? Artists think there is a secret, a magic door, and when you find the key you get what you want. On the contrary, what works best is to try different strategies until they begin to reinforce each other, and then the magic happens. For example, an emerging artist was in conversation with a curator who was considering her work for a client. After exchanging several friendly emails, including images of her work, it all went silent. Instead of getting discouraged, the artist began to try different communication methods. She texted, left telephone messages, offered a Zoom conversation. Eventually she got a response. Another artist was trying to get a job in the art world, with a degree in graphic design but no real work experience. He decided to combine three different approaches. He used his graphic design skills to transform the layout and aesthetic of his resume into an imaginative format. He then sent his “creative resume” to his network: friends, family, neighbors, teachers, other artists, and asked for a 20-minute conversation about his job search. He also created a profile to offer his skills on several freelance sites. These strategies worked together and he found an entry-level job. The secret is that there is no one magic key. You keep experimenting with different approaches, you get advice from many people, you stay open and positive. Instead of stressing over what’s not working, you continually try something new. You stay in motion long enough for success to find you.  You know what it feels like when you have momentum. You clean out a closet on a rainy afternoon, and a month later you’ve re-organized your whole living space.
An art career is no different. You need ways to get started, to keep going, to sustain your energy and enthusiasm over the long term so that your art practice grows in an authentic way. I believe it works best to create broad goals focused on your own behavior. This may seem counter-intuitive, since most planning gurus recommend having specific, narrow goals (sort of like a to-do list). Here’s the difference: instead of deciding to “visit three local galleries this week” you broaden that goal to “become more visible.” This broader goal is flexible, opens up possibilities, and engages your creative self. To become more visible, you might decide to volunteer at an art center, or stop by a frame shop to find out if they show the work of local artists, or build your social media presence by posting about your materials and process. All of these actions will naturally lead to other actions that move you forward. Another example of a broad goal is to “learn something new.” This goal might encourage you to sign up for a workshop, or join a professional society, or reach out to a mentor or coach for advice. Each activity will help you learn something new in a different way, and they all put you in motion. Broad goals create momentum. They are especially helpful for emerging artists who are overwhelmed by the hundreds of “artist opportunities” out there. You can also use such goals when you are stuck or confused about the path forward, or just ready to build the next steps in your art career.  Mickalene Thomas, A Very Beautiful Black Girl, 2011 We seem to be in the midst of a cultural moment, when the art and political worlds are bringing us a new perspective, a fresh energy.
In Los Angeles right now two Afro-American artists are receiving major retrospectives: the sculptor Simone Leigh and the painter/installation artist Mickalene Thomas. These exhibitions have been planned for years, so nobody expected Kamala Harris to also be on the stage. What connects these three women is not only racial identity, but their refusal to let others define what it means to be black and female. They take control of that narrative, saying “this is who I am and it’s my story to tell.” Mickalene Thomas’ exhibition, “All About Love,” is extraordinary on many levels. We see portraits of black women (a rare thing in the Western canon) who are singing, laughing, celebrating, while decorated with rhinestones and glitter. The exhibition is full of domestic scenes, with portraits of friends, family, and the artist herself. There is even a gallery where the visitor can rest in the colorful patchwork chairs of her childhood living room. Thomas is saying: “I may be a famous artist having a retrospective but welcome to my personal space, this is who I am and where I came from.” Simone Leigh’s monumental sculptures of Afro-American women are more abstract, her range of reference global, yet she also communicates a powerful origin story. Her work addresses centuries of oppression by showing black women as hybrid forms, often a small head connected to a vessel or a jug, reflecting traditional domestic roles and celebrating their strength and endurance in the face of oppression. In this context it is no surprise that Kamala Harris greets us with laughter, talking about her family history and values, refusing to let others define her.  Habits can be comforting, as they save us from making decisions about how to spend our time. This can be a good thing, if you have a healthy habit. When you always take a walk in the morning, you don’t have to spend the day figuring out how to get exercise.
But we all have habits that fill up time while not accomplishing a thing. “I wasted hours watching TV” says it all. When you’re trying to create a daily art practice, you might want to take a look at your habits. The first thing to do is to track how you spend your time. Don’t try to change anything, just go about your normal routines for a week, making notes on what you are doing, hour by hour. What patterns do you see? Then look back and identify chunks of time that might be better used. If you’re “a morning person” but spend those hours on trivial matters, try to put those hours to better use. Check your habits: do you always pick up the phone, no matter what you’re doing or who is calling? Do you move from one thing to another, responding to whatever comes up? This is a typical pattern for artists, who have many good ideas but find it hard to focus. To create a productive life, creative people need structure. One simple tool is to plan (the night before) what you’re going to do the following day. Your plan can be simple, just a few notes on a post-it. As you follow your mini-plan, note any differences between your wide open days and what you accomplish when you have a focus. Changing your habits is a gradual process, yet the benefits will show up quickly.  Recently I’ve gotten good news from a number of artists. One just heard that their proposal was accepted for a solo museum show, another found new gallery representation, and another was excited to receive a much-needed grant. In each case their success came after a long effort, but felt like a miracle.
I am reminded of an ancient Chinese proverb: “He who would believe in miracles, will have to learn to wait.” I like this sentiment because it conveys a deep truth in the lives of artists. When success finally comes, it feels like a miracle, yet it is actually the result of a long effort. Real progress is always incremental, with many small steps that seem to lead nowhere until something good happens. But how do you stay on the path long enough to succeed? Most artists are good at blaming themselves for “failures” or lack of quick results, but forget to reward themselves for the daily effort and commitment it takes to make progress in an art career. Psychologists call this process “successive approximations.” Reaching a goal is the result of many tries, the theory goes, and it’s important to acknowledge and reward each attempt, even if it doesn’t immediately produce a result. The artist who finally found new gallery representation had taken dozens of such steps: visiting galleries, going to art fairs to see what is being shown, keeping their own work alive and visible in multiple venues. And then the new gallery found her, as they like to do. So remember to give yourself credit, celebrate every small thing you manage to do, every time you try, no matter what the result. In this way you create your own miracle.  Keith Haring, Untitled (Flag), 1988 This week we celebrate our national independence day, in the midst of a divided country. Keith Haring’s 1988 image seems to capture our crazy reality. Since I have no wisdom on political matters, let’s consider what it means for an artist to be independent.
For some artists independence means making art while ignoring the marketplace, and finding other sources of income. If this strategy is satisfying to you, that is enough for now. For other artists independence means staying outside the increasingly troubled gallery system. You sell your art through personal channels, including a website and social media presence. If this is your approach, you might also consider art fairs designed for independent artists. Take a look at The Other Art Fair, which happens in Los Angeles, Dallas, and Brooklyn, and in various international locations. Another similar option is Superfine, now offered in San Francisco, New York, and Washington, D.C. Both fairs are juried venues modeled on the traditional art fair, but with a twist: artists present their own work directly, rather than through galleries. Think carefully before choosing this route, since independent art fairs cost money and time, and you need to be comfortable selling your work directly to the public. Read the reviews from artists who have done well (or poorly) at such fairs, and ideally attend as a visitor before you commit. Be sure to check out the quality of the art. But real independence might also mean staying focused on your art practice, day after day, developing your skill and believing in your vision, no matter how quickly or slowly you are able to make your dreams come true. How do you want to define your independence as an artist?  Most of us get overwhelmed when we ignore an accumulation of small problems that hardly matter until they pile up and crash us down. These little things never get our attention in the midst of a real personal or global crisis, yet they eat away at the fabric of our lives, robbing us of energy and focus.
Take my garage door remote, for example. It sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t. It was a tiny issue, but in my life it became a daily annoyance. So, after many false starts, I found a woman who has spent the last 30 years in the garage door business. She pulled the thing apart and fixed it, charging me five dollars. Suddenly I had the bandwidth and momentum to tackle bigger challenges, because this little one was solved. So my advice to you is to identify some small thing that bothers you every day, taking your focus away from your art practice. Then take the problem out of the short circuit in your brain and get it into the hands of an expert. Just don’t give up until you’ve found a solution. Sometimes your problem is embedded in a larger system (most technical problems are). If you can’t find an expert, try a google search, starting with “how to fix . . . .” Look for a simple, step-by-step answer, follow the steps, and don’t give up until your problem is solved. By solving small problems, one at a time, you create a new mindset: problems have solutions, and you are capable of finding them. When you reach out to other people, and other resources, you realize that you don’t always have to go it alone.  Leonora Carrington's Les Distractions de Dagobert A 1945 Leonora Carrington painting just sold at Sotheby’s for $28.5 million. That fact raises an important question: is it time to rethink the prices for your art?
Record-breaking sales like this happen when an artist has entered the canon and collectors decide to make an investment, speculating that the value will go even higher. Most artists will not reach these dizzying heights, but the idea of placing value on your work is a critical first step in establishing your prices. An emerging or mid-career artist can think about value by paying attention to the time, effort, and talent needed to create each work of art. If you want to test this theory, do the math. Begin to track the time and effort you spend on a new work of art. Start with noting when the idea first appears in your mind, and then add up the time spent doing research, experimenting with materials or processes, in addition to the hours creating the work itself. If you’ve spent 40 hours on a painting, and are charging $400 for it, you’re earning $10.00 an hour. Is that a living wage? Next, your prices need to reflect the market you’re in. An emerging artist should study their local art market carefully. Visit galleries and nonprofit art spaces in your city, and note the range of prices charged by other artists making work similar to your own. Finally, your prices should reflect your own reputation and achievements. The auction prices for famous artists are high because they’re already famous. If you’ve been in a few group shows, but never had a solo show, keep your prices at the lower end of the range in your market. As you build your career you’ll be able to gradually raise your prices.  The names alone are seductive: Guggenheim, Fulbright, MacDowell . . . their siren songs call to you. These big fellowships offer the promise of significant time and money to support your art practice. How do you decide if you should apply?
Such fellowships often go to people who have already made it on the national scene. So before you jump in, review the past winners. Don’t just look at their work, assess their careers. Find their CV or resume, and examine four areas: previous grants received, solo exhibitions at museums and universities, artist residencies attended, and press reviews. Then compare your own accomplishments. If you think you have a chance, go for it! At least a month before the due date, dig deep into the application process. If they care about financial need, what documents will be required? Do they ask for a project, or do they fund your practice overall? Leave yourself plenty of time to complete the application, and get help with the writing if you need it. Most of the big fellowships ask you to describe the scope, intention, and impact of your art. This is a difficult and valuable process, where you step outside your art practice and explain it to others. Even if you don’t get chosen this year, such work is never wasted. You’ll generate documents to revise and use again. If your research tells you that you don’t yet have what’s expected for the national fellowships, don’t be discouraged. There are many state, local, and regional opportunities out there. And by understanding where you need to strengthen your own resume, you’ll be able to focus your efforts so that you’ll be at the top of the list next time.  Takako Yamaguchi, Parade, 2022, oil and metal leaf on canvas, 60 × 40". As you may know, the latest Whitney Biennial has just opened in New York, greeted with the usual mixture of critical acclaim and complaint. If you’re not able to see the show in person, take a look online. The theme is topical, as the title suggests. “Even Better Than the Real Thing” explores the question of what is real in the age of artificial intelligence and the fluidity of identity.
What caught my eye this time was not so much the show itself, but the background of the artists. Hyperallergic, the Brooklyn-based online journal, has compiled new statistics that confirm the geographical bias of this prestigious exhibition. Over forty percent of the artists are based in New York or Los Angeles, and all but 10 (out of 71) live in coastal states. What does this mean? Is the best art being made only on the two coasts? Absolutely not. Remarkable art is created everywhere, as you can see in regional museums and galleries and artist studios across the country. The geographical focus of the Whitney Biennial just reminds us that webs of connection in major cities create networks that launch artists. Yet when we dig deeper into the backgrounds of these artists we find that they grew their careers in smaller venues across the country. Nobody begins with a solo show at MOMA. For example, Takako Yamaguchi’s first exhibitions were at the Orange County Center for Contemporary Art, the Museum of Art in San Jose, and the Nevada Museum in Reno, a long path that led her to be selected for the Whitney Biennial. This one example, among many, illustrates the point: America grows its artists. The country provides multiple venues where any artist can begin the process of launching a career. What’s your next step?  Most of us realize that the art world has gone digital. It began during the pandemic and the trend has grown. This is not entirely a bad thing, as new online options for selling art can be a real benefit to artists who don’t have access to galleries. Online sales to collectors have also increased, with buyers “visiting” art fairs digitally and purchasing art directly from the galleries showing there. These sales figures are surprisingly high.
Yet I’m seeing the downside of this trend everywhere. The digital world has replaced the human in most of our everyday lives. Your car runs by computer, and gives you (sometimes welcome) advice about your driving. When you need to solve a problem, a “virtual assistant” replaces the human voice you were expecting. Most of these changes have an upside, and we all adapt as best we can. For artists, the impact of the digital experience is not well understood. Many artists find themselves overwhelmed by the technical demands of an art career, and end up feeling alienated from the fundamental process of making art. The two experiences are nearly opposite. Art making is messy, experimental, rough, unpredictable, just like real life. The digital demands of an art career require a logical, linear, step-by-step approach. Just think about what it takes to enter your work on Café or EntryThingy, and you’ll understand the difference. You need to push back against the digital trend. I believe it is possible, and necessary, to bring your creative self back into your art career. Thinker bigger, experiment, try new venues, talk to people, get off those screens and get out into the real world.  Image from Boca Raton Museum of Art “Smoke & Mirrors: Magical Thinking in Contemporary Art." I’m still thinking about the myths that get in the way when you’re trying to shape your career as an artist. Perhaps the biggest fiction is that you cannot combine a successful career with an authentic creative life. This illusion is alive and well on social media. People create ideal versions of themselves in order to seem more successful, more confident, more one-dimensional than they are. These avatars make the rest of us feel inadequate, as we live through our ordinary ups and downs, our doubts and fears. Many artists believe they have to be constantly upbeat in order to attract interest, despite the fact that their art grows out of their raw and messy, genuine selves. This illusion of the ideal self leads to another fiction. Artists believe that there is a secret “right way” to succeed, and in order to find it you have to apply for every opportunity you hear about, whether or not it’s right for you. This syndrome, sometimes known as FOMO (Fear of Missing Out), is emotionally exhausting, since you set yourself up for rejection and discouragement. Don’t chase random opportunities. Most of them are not worth your time and effort. It makes more sense to figure out your goals for the next year or so, and create a strategy to reach them. The best paths to follow grow organically out of your art, your values, and where you are in your career. Do experiment and try new things, but choose those that fit your goals. When you let go of illusions you discover a more complex and vital reality, where you will thrive. You don’t have to let go of your real self in order to succeed. Mary Edwards, Ph.D Career & Life Coach for Artists “Left Brain Skills for Right Brained People” Instagram: coachingforartists.maryedwards  Image from Boca Raton Museum of Art “Smoke & Mirrors: Magical Thinking in Contemporary Art.” The image you see here is from a remarkable exhibition I recently saw at the Boca Raton Museum of Art, called “Smoke & Mirrors: Magical Thinking in Contemporary Art.” While the exhibition’s focus was on stage magic and hoaxes perpetrated for financial or political gain, it made me think of the mix of illusion and reality in artists’ careers. One of the most seductive illusions is that the art world is a meritocracy, with only the best artists achieving recognition and reward. This belief makes artists doubt the value of their work, when what they actually need to improve is the quality of their relationships with people who can help them advance. Another illusion is that the art world is totally random in its functioning, that artists get discovered through sheer luck. We know that art careers don’t happen in a linear way, yet success isn’t random or accidental. It begins with a clear understanding of where you are on your path. For example, an emerging artist’s job is to become visible in a variety of venues, gaining experience and exposure. A mid-career artist uses that visibility to build a network of relationships, since opportunities come from people who know you and like your work. An established artist might focus on moving from local gallery representation to finding a gallery with a national reach. Yet your own values are the bedrock of your reality. Think about your life as a whole, and try to create the life you want to lead. While letting go of illusions will bring you clarity, a full creative life can bring joy and satisfaction. There’s real magic in that. Mary Edwards, Ph.D Career & Life Coach for Artists “Left Brain Skills for Right Brained People” Instagram: coachingforartists.maryedwards  The coming of January 2024 makes me think about New Year’s Resolutions. They hold the promise that we can shape our lives by declaring our intentions, and then writing them down. Whether this is true and useful, or just a happy fiction, it’s worth knowing how to make an effective resolution. First, I believe the best resolutions are long-term and big picture, focused on how you want to develop your life and art practice. Effective resolutions shape your behavior. While many think that goals should be focused on specific outcomes, it seems to me that the complexity and chaos of the art world make such planning a lesson in frustration. But when we think on a larger scale, the resulting actions can shape our future. A good resolution guides your thoughts and actions, helping you develop new habits. One of my favorites for creative people is: “become more visible.” This vow might lead you to attend an art exhibition in a nearby city, or to join a critique group, or become a member of a local nonprofit arts organization. Such a resolution makes you ask yourself, everyday, “how can I become more visible as an artist?” When resolutions are focused on process (rather than results), they open up new ways of approaching your life and work. One of the best, for creatives and the rest of us, is “discover new sources of inspiration.” Such a resolution puts you in motion. You explore the world around you with an open, positive mindset. My own New Year’s Resolution, both as a coach and friend, is simple: “talk less, listen longer.” What about you? Mary Edwards, Ph.D Career & Life Coach for Artists “Left Brain Skills for Right Brained People” Instagram: coachingforartists.maryedwards  Maria Maea, Untitled (Nephew), 2020, Hammer Museum Many of us get stuck when we’re launching our most important projects. Since your best work is often grounded in personal passion, you can feel vulnerable and confused about how to move forward. What if you can’t get it right? How will you know when it’s finished? When is it time to get feedback? It’s important to understand what ideas need in order to grow. You don’t want to expose your work to feedback and criticism too soon, when the work isn’t quite ready. But what conditions can you set up in order to nurture this work so that it becomes stronger? Gardeners struggle with this question all the time. To grow seedlings, they often use a heating mat and fluorescent lights to protect and nurture these young plants. This happens with tiny humans as well, as incubators provide premature infants with a safe space to live as they develop. Your own early ideas also need light and warmth, time and attention, and a safe place to grow. Trust yourself to provide a kind of incubator that prevents the harsh eyes of the world from commenting until the work is strong enough to stand on its own. Most important, protect your work from your own doubts. Silence the voices in your head that can suppress an idea before it has had time to germinate. Remember your successes, all the times you have prevailed in difficult circumstances. Your belief in yourself is the light and warmth new work deserves. When the time is right, do reach out for feedback from people you trust. Ideally choose supporters who can be objective, who can listen as you share your best intentions. Good feedback helps your work grow, but only when you are ready. Happy Holidays! Mary Edwards, Ph.D Career & Life Coach for Artists “Left Brain Skills for Right Brained People” Instagram: coachingforartists.maryedwards  Marie Kondo has made a fortune by telling people how to declutter their homes, so that they get rid of anything that no longer “sparks joy.” This idea has inspired one of my favorite exercises for artists. Artists face a challenging paradox. While the creative process itself is dynamic and unpredictable, creative people need structure and order in order to make consistent progress. When you declutter your living space, you remove unnecessary belongings. It’s what we do (or intend to do) when we run out of closet space or move to a smaller apartment. When you apply this idea to your art practice, you open up mental space by finding time for what matters most to you. So here’s how it works. Examine two or three typical weeks in your calendar, where you write down appointments and other commitments. Notice how you actually spend your time, and look for patterns or recurring activities. Then think about your long-term goals, your highest priorities. How much time do you spend on them in a typical week? For example, many of us spend hours each day on administrative tasks, errands, and meetings. Such activities can become automatic, habits that drain your energy. Look at your own calendar, and ask yourself if any of your recurring activities could be eliminated. Then remake your calendar by blocking out chunks of time devoted to your most important goals. Mark these times as appointments, just as though you were going to the dentist or meeting a friend for lunch. When you think about accepting a new invitation, you’ll look at your calendar and see that you’re “already booked.” You have an appointment with yourself. For many artists this will mean finding the time to create the work that is the core of your practice. Mary Edwards, Ph.D Career & Life Coach for Artists “Left Brain Skills for Right Brained People” Instagram: coachingforartists.maryedwards |