Make presents, not products

A friend of mine — Head of Art Education at Kunsthalle Zürich — was visiting during Gallery Weekend. While guiding us around Berlin, she told us about an artist she’d recently worked with, who had drawn a small, personal animal for every crew member who helped install her exhibition.

Not only did she make everyone a piece of art, but she had such joy and confidence in her creations, she considered them gifts. If you ever had a proud kid showing you something they made, you know the energy. When was the last time you felt like this?

It might seem easy to be confident when you're already successful. But it doesn't have to be – we don't know how many nos came before the yeses started rolling in. We don't know if she's her own worst critic. We don't know if the success actually makes it harder, because people have expectations now.

From crayons to installations

I think (hope at least) that most of us started our creative pursuits because we found joy in the process, and/or the end result. Yet I know so many people who are sad they haven't gotten the reception they wanted. Some have quit. Some kept going, but still hurt a little that it’s not their career. Some are even financing their life with art, but bitter the institutions aren't taking them in.

And who wants to admit they want something that just doesn’t want them back? That's personal. Private. And what do you say then, when you run into someone and they enthusiastically ask how's it going with Your Thing?

I've been there. I studied music, worked hard to be an artist, and I had some wins. But I really struggled to earn a decent living, and over time I got less willing to trade mental wellbeing for something that wasn't even fun anymore. I started working in tech, got a monthly pay check, and retired my music project.

I felt down about this for a long time. I was grieving the tours I wouldn't go on, the albums I wouldn't make, the recognition I wouldn't receive. But I also wanted to have fun making stuff again, and there were no escalators up from my sad little pit of self-doubt. I had to get back to creating every day (morning pages is my weapon of choice), find a new community, and fundamentally change my definition of success.

Make presents, not products

Because there's some real magic in deciding that you are simply sharing your creations with the universe. Giving without expecting anything in return means you hold the power. You get to choose your audience – or keep it to yourself. Decide you'll take a break this week, or try out something really weird and different.

When you are generously sharing your creativity, efforts and craft with the world, you get to do whatever you want.

Creating for rewards is different. You narrow your field of vision, start tweaking your product to please the audience – even if it's not exactly what you love the most.

There's nothing wrong with wanting money or prestige or any of that. Or needing it to pay your rent. But creating for external rewards will quite likely turn what you're doing into work, so be wary of seeking that out for what really matters to you. Keep something to yourself, keep it separate from any potential rewards, maybe share it if you're feeling good and confident about it.

It takes practice

The pressure to hustle, grow and monetise is so intensely loud, I don't think any of us will be free overnight. But you can practise.

For example, I spent several years coaching creators on how to make money online – and I am sharing my writing here for free. I own my space by paying for my domain and hosting. There's no algorithm here to make me go viral, no payments to count my worth. You can't see how many others are reading this, so there goes my prestige too.

I am sharing because I like the process of passing on what I've learned – and maybe someone needs what I have to give. So I straighten my back at parties and tell people that I'm writing. What I'm really doing is feeding that kid more crayons.