Tag Archive - Fear

The Art of Taking Risks : 13 Years, 3500 Artists, 7 Memorable Lessons

 

Image from the vernacular photography collection of Mark Glovsky

When I was a girl, I was fearless. I was always falling out of trees, off of speeding bicycles, into muddy creeks. Once, I was bitten by an angry goose. I was knocked on the head accidentally with a baseball. A rock. And a basketball. On one hot summer evening, the rope of the tire swing broke and sent me and my best friend, Michael, hurling through the yard like a hockey puck. And then there was the morning I tumbled into my neighbor’s cactus garden. (Who knew that cacti spines came in so many size and color variations? Ouch.)

But somewhere on the way to adulthood, the youthful spirit of risk took its leave. Like so many other “responsible” adults, I succumbed to the tyranny of the regular paycheck. Although I never lived extravagantly, I traded my time for money, and money for things. Once on that spinning wheel, it’s hard to get off. Often we forget that it’s even possible to stop, reevaluate, and make radical changes to our lives. It feels too scary. Too hard and overwhelming.

This past year has forced me to stop and reconsider my options. Ten months ago, when I launched Gwarlingo, I never could have anticipated how quickly the site would grow and how enthusiastically it would be received. Some incredible opportunities have come my way as a result–I’ve made new friends, had fabulous conversations with readers (in person and online), traveled, flexed my writing, tech, and photography skills, been on the radio, been hired for new, challenging projects, and more. And every minute has been pure pleasure for me. For the first time in ages, I have no idea what surprises the day will bring when I get out of bed, and that excites me.
 

Image from the vernacular photography collection of Mark Glovsky

After thirteen remarkable years working at The MacDowell Colony, I’ve decided it’s time to take the leap into full-time self employment. The decision wasn’t easy, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Letting go of my 9-5 job (with a regular paycheck and benefits) will allow me to expand Gwarlingo and tackle some new creative projects. Is it a risk? Of course. But it’s a risk that takes me back to those free-wheeling, tree-climbing days.

While I’ll miss all of my friends at the Colony terribly, I can still be part of a creative community through Gwarlingo and through some new collaborative projects that are on the horizon.

Over 3500 artists have passed through the doors of MacDowell during my tenure there. That’s a lot of creative energy in one place. In the past few days a number of people have asked me about the experience of working at the Colony for over a decade. Here are a few of the lessons I’ve learned in my thirteen years at the nation’s oldest artist retreat…

  • If you are open, receptive, and generous with others, the majority of people will be open, receptive, and generous in return.
  •  

  • Reserve judgment. Forget rumors. Listen and be patient. Most people will surprise you.
  •  

  • The most successful artists don’t have some mysterious gift that allows them to excel in their field. They simply work hard, work consistently, take creative risks, and don’t worry about what other people think. This is the real formula for creative success.
  •  

  • It is artists who have the best bird’s eye view of our culture today–they can tell us where we’ve been and where we’re going. They have the special ability to imagine alternatives to the present.
  •  

  • Artists can also view the world from a micro level. They can help us appreciate the unseen.
  •  

  • Solitude is an art. Unplugging and learning to be alone with yourself is essential if you want to do your best creative work. Technology is a tool. We should control it, not the other way around. Turn off your phone, Twitter, email, etc. Do it. The withdrawal symptoms will subside, eventually.
  •  

  • Being an artist is challenging in our society. It’s hard mentally, physically, and financially. It takes a village–a community of friends, fellow artists, and supporters who understand why you do the work you do and believe that it’s valuable. If you have the means, support artists and organizations, like MacDowell, who are helping artists realize their full potential. And if you’re an artist, don’t forget to leave your apartment or studio every now and then. Find a residency program, go to a reading, concert, or opening, or have fun with friends. Play and connection are just as important as hard work.

These are just a few of the lessons I’ll take with me when I go.

 

Image from the vernacular photography collection of Mark Glovsky

I have a lot of exciting ideas for growing Gwarlingo. I’m looking forward to organizing live events, providing more resources for artists on the site, and digging into much-discussed topics like money, fear, and technology and how these dovetail with the creative life.
 
And then there is my own creative work that’s been languishing–I have a novel to sell, stories to finish, and photographs to print.

Of course, I will also need to piece together the funding to make all of this happen. Traffic on the site continues to grow. Last month I had over 25,000 unique visitors to Gwarlingo. I expect this number to climb as I have more time to devote to the project. This opens up some new opportunities for sponsorships, which I’ll be exploring.

I’ll also be available for freelance and consulting projects. I have a large project with a nonprofit that will take part of the year, but I also look forward to working with artists who need help with grant writing, project proposals, social media, and artist statements. I have a few artists penciled into my calendar already.

 

Image from the vernacular photography collection of Mark Glovsky

My last day at The MacDowell Colony will be April 27th. Life is going to be very full until then, so please forgive me if I’m not able to post as regularly in the coming weeks. You will have more of my time and attention very soon.
 
Thanks to all of the staff, friends, and artists who have made my job at the Colony so memorable through the years. I also want to thank the friends, old and new, who have participated in the evolution of Gwarlingo.

We’re just getting started.
 

Image from the vernacular photography collection of Mark Glovsky


Don’t miss the next Gwarlingo feature. Click here to subscribe to Gwarlingo. You can also follow me on Twitter and Facebook.
 
Support Gwarlingo by making a donation of any size. Gwarlingo takes countless hours of labor each month, and your help keeps the site going!




A special thank you to Mark Glovsky for sharing these beautiful images from his found photography collection. Thanks Mark!

 
 

Ai Weiwei : Creativity Is the Power to Act

 

Ai Weiwei, "Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn," 1995. Middle view of a triptych of gelatin silver prints, each print 49 5/8” x 39 1/4”. (Photo courtesy dailyserving.com)

 

Ai Weiwei, "Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn," 1995. Last view of a triptych of gelatin silver prints, each print 49 5/8” x 39 1/4”. (Photo courtesy dailyserving.com)

 

Ai Weiwei’s Blog: Writings, Interviews, and Digital Rants, 2006-2009 has been good company the past few days. Between 2006 and 2009, Chinese artist Ai Weiwei used his blog as a daily notebook where he posted thousands of photos, documented his artistic practice and personal life, wrote about art and architecture, and turned out a steady stream of scathing social commentary. Over 100,000 people visited the blog on a daily basis until the Chinese government shut Ai’s site down in 2009.

Ai Weiwei is a Renaissance man of sorts, with a broad range of interests. He is a writer, architect, sculptor, curator, poet, critic, publisher, and photographer. In the West, he is probably best known for his spectacular installation Sunflower Seeds at the Tate Modern in London. The work consisted of one hundred million porcelain “seeds,” each individually hand-painted by 1,600 Chinese artisans, and scattered over a large area of Turbine Hall.

 

In Ai Weiwei's "first large-scale solo exhibition to be held anywhere in the ethnic Chinese world," Taipei Fine Arts Museum's 'Ai Weiwei absent' was a critical success. The highlight was the artist's "Forever Bicycles" installation, which was made specifically for this exhibition out of 1,200 bicycle units. (Photo courtesy thisiscolossol.com)

 

Herzog and DeMeuron’s Olympic Stadium, fondly referred to by some as the “Bird’s Nest,” is a feat of engineering, an aesthetic marvel. Ai Weiwei served as a consultant on the project. (Photo courtesy Inhabitat.com)

 

Chinese artist Ai Weiwei holds some porcelain sunflower seeds from his installation at The Tate Modern in London on October 11, 2010. (Photo by Peter Macdiarmid/Getty Images courtesy The Asia Society)

Ai is also a self-taught architect and proponent of authentic, simple design. He has worked on over 70 architectural projects total, including a notable collaboration with Swiss architects Herzog & de Meuron , which resulted in the memorable “Bird’s Nest” stadium for the Beijing Olympics

Recently, Ai has been making headlines for other reasons. On April 3, 2011, the artist was arrested at Peking Airport just before catching a flight to Hong Kong. Around 50 police officers searched Ai’s studio and took away laptops and hard drives. Police also detained eight staff members and Ai’s wife, Lu Qing. The arrest sparked major protests around the world. On 22 June 2011, the Chinese authorities released him on bail after close to three months’ detention on charges of tax evasion. He is prohibited from leaving Beijing without permission for one year.

Ai Weiwei with musician Zuoxiao Zuzhou in the elevator when taken in custody by the police, Sichuan, China, August 2009 (Photo courtesy Ai Weiwei and Christine König Galerie)

 

One thousand and one antique Chinese chairs for the 1,001 Chinese visitors Ai Weiwei brought to Kassel, Germany, for Documenta 12 (2007) as part of his project, "Fairytale." (Photo Courtesy Ai Weiwei via pbs.org)

 

Artist Cpak Ming took a series of photographs of flash stencils around Hong Kong after the arrest of Ai Weiwei. The photographer received a firm warning from the Chinese government after photographing this piece of flash graffiti on the side of the People’s Liberation Army barracks in Admiralty, Hong Kong. Next to Ai's Weiwei's face are the words: "Who's Afraid of Ai Weiwei?" (Photo by Cpak Ming courtesy mymodernmet.com)

In his art practice, Ai has actively embraced technology. “I think the Internet and information era is the greatest period mankind has encountered,” Ai told Hans Ulrich Obrist in the book Ai Weiwei Speaks. “Thanks to this period, humans finally have the opportunity to become independent, to acquire information and communicate independently…I think that art won’t have too grand or too much of a future if it fails to connect with today’s lifestyles and technologies.”

For Ai, virtual reality is as important as reality itself. He believes that all art is social in its way and  that technology can bolster the power and reach of art, particularly in oppressed societies. Ai’s first blog post was one sentence: “You need a purpose to express yourself, but that expression is its own purpose.”

In 2007 Ai used his blog to create a compelling work titled Fairytale. Using the internet, he recruited 1,001 Chinese people who had never been to Europe to wander around the town of Kassel Germany during Documenta. As someone who spent 12 years in New York City, Ai understood the power of travel and hoped Fairytale would change the lives of those 1,001 individuals who made the trip to Europe.
Continue Reading…

On Money, Fear, and the Artist

 

A currency collage by artist Mark Wagner (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

A visual artist I know once told me about an audit she endured with the IRS. My friend is a professional artist in New York City with her own studio. Her work is shown at galleries and museums. She has received grants, been accepted to artist residencies around the world, and every now and then, she even manages to sell a few pieces of artwork.

During the audit, one of the IRS employees explained to my friend that she couldn’t keep declaring a loss for her business year after year. “This looks more like a hobby than a profession,” the auditor said.

My friend attempted to explain the financial ups and downs of being a working artist. Yes. There had been a dry spell in the “income department” in recent years, but her expenses were legitimate. Art was her business, her life, her passion–not a mere hobby. The auditor was completely puzzled. “But if you aren’t making any money creating art,” he asked, “why do you keep doing this year after year?”

 

"The one dollar bill is the most ubiquitous piece of paper in America," says artist Mark Wagner. "Collage asks the question: what might be done to make it something else?" (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

 

A detail of the above currency collage by artist Mark Wagner (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

I love this story because it says so much about the profit-oriented culture we inhabit as artists (and when I say “artists,” I define that term broadly to include writers, performers, designers, filmmakers, composers, visual artists, etc.).

For most artists I know, money is a constant source of anxiety because most creative projects don’t make economic sense. As artists, we have chosen an alternative paradigm to the profit-oriented one. This doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be smart about the business-side of art making, only that money isn’t our primary motivator.

The concept of creating for its own sake remains a radical concept in our culture. This is one of the central rifts we’ve seen playing out between Wall Street bankers and supporters of the Occupy movement. One camp places a higher value on profits, while the other a higher value on more elusive qualities like imagination, empathy, and justice.

Of course, if you have your money invested in the stock market, then you want your broker to be greedy with your money–you want to earn 6%, not 4% like everyone else. But when it comes to art, greed turns the best ideas sour. It isn’t hard to sniff-out the difference between work that was created from a free, deep place, and a blatant commercial commodity.

You may be able sell the end product of art–the concert ticket, the photograph, the book–but the idea itself is free. Art is a gift, and like all gifts, it must be shared in order to make an impact.

 

(Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

 

"For most artists I know, money is a constant source of anxiety because most creative projects don’t make economic sense. As artists, we have chosen an alternative paradigm to the profit-oriented one." (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

 

 

"Fear is normal for an artist--it's the reason we get trapped in the cycle of self-doubt and anxiety, the reason we hesitate to declare a project finished." (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

Being an artist is so hard because we’re operating in a parallel universe from the larger cultureone that values imagination, creativity, and ideas more than money or status. But a true creative exchange–one in which art is given and accepted without obligation is a way of side-stepping the soul-crushing grimness of consumerism. I would go so far as to say that it’s an alternate way of being. It’s this free exchange between artist and audience that creates movement, provides pleasure, provokes change, and offers meaningful connection.

As writer and MacArthur fellow Lewis Hyde says in his classic book The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World, “The gift moves toward the empty place. As it turns in its circle it turns toward him who has been empty-handed the longest, and if someone appears elsewhere whose need is great it leaves its old channel and moves toward him. Our generosity may leave us empty, but our emptiness then pulls gently at the whole until the thing in motion returns to replenish us.”

“Motion” is a key word here, for an artist needs this movement to thrive. “Make the work,” said Walt Whitman. “Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping,…Stop it and just DO!” wrote artist Sol LeWitt to his friend Eva Hesse. “All that is important is this one moment in movement,” Martha Graham once said. “Make the moment important, vital, and worth living. Do not let it slip away unnoticed and unused.”

Art that languishes for too long on the hard drive, on the studio wall, or in the murky recesses of the imagination becomes stagnant. At worst, it becomes insular and self-absorbed. “No art is sunk in the self,” observed Flannery O’Connor, “but rather, in art the self becomes self-forgetful in order to meet the demands of the thing seen and the thing being made.”

Fear is normal for an artist–it’s the reason we get trapped in the cycle of self-doubt and anxiety, the reason we hesitate to declare a project “finished.” Our bodies are wired for self-protection. The moment we sense artistic risk or criticism, our “fight or flight” response kicks in. This is perfectly natural, but if we aren’t careful, we can get stuck in this place, unconsciously filling our time with research, editing, re-evaluating, re-writing, re-working (the artist’s version of “flight”).

 

"A true creative exchange--one in which art is given and accepted without obligation is a way of side-stepping the soul-crushing grimness of consumerism." (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

 

 

A detail of the above currency collage by Mark Wagner (Photo courtesy Mark Wagner at smokeinmydreams.com)

 

In Journal of a Solitude, May Sarton writes: “There is only one real deprivation,…and that is not to be able to give one’s gift to those one loves most…The gift turned inward, unable to be given, becomes a heavy burden, even sometimes a kind of poison. It is as though the flow of life were backed up.”

This doesn’t mean that stillness isn’t important–it’s key to the creative process–but at some point we have to let go and allow our work to be subjected to the marketplace. “The artist who hopes to market work that is the realization of his gifts cannot begin with the market,” Hyde explains in his book. “He must create for himself that gift-sphere in which the work is made, and only when he knows the work to be the faithful realization of his gift should he turn to see if it has currency in that other economy. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t.”

Continue Reading…

Designer Milton Glaser on Creativity and the Fear of Failure

You may not know graphic designer Milton Glaser by name, but you undoubtedly know his work. He is best known for the “I ♥ NY” logo, his “Bob Dylan” poster, the “DC bullet” logo used by DC Comics from 1977 to 2005, and the “Brooklyn Brewery” logo. He also founded New York Magazine with Clay Felker in 1968 and was one of the co-founders of Push Pin Studios in 1954.

Following September 11th, Glaser updated his iconic “I ♥ NY” design.

Many of Glaser’s designs have achieved iconic status. ”The hallmarks of his work are its simplicity, wit and elegance,” said Stephen Holden in the New York Times. “It may be commercial art, but with a capital A.”

In 2009, Glaser was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Barack Obama, and his work is in the permanent collections of the Museum of Modern Art, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, the Smithsonian Institute, and the Cooper Hewitt National Design Museum in New York, among others. Milton Glaser, Inc., which was established in 1974 in Manhattan, is still producing work in a wide range of disciplines. Philip Roth fans may recognize the numerous book jackets Glaser has designed for his friend over the years.

 

A poster Glaser designed to raise awareness of the Darfur crisis and benefit the International Rescue Committee.

Glaser is an articulate speaker, as well as a talented artist. In this seven-minute video, the renowned designer shares his own views on the creative process and the inevitable fear of failure that all artists confront.

Continue Reading…

Ten Rules for Writing Fiction


A Draft of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" from 1843

The Guardian’s two-part series “Ten Rules for Writing Fiction” has been a popular topic of discussion in the writing community in recent weeks. The idea was inspired by Elmore Leonard’s “10 Rules of Writing,” which originally appeared in The New York Times. The Guardian asked writers like Zadie Smith, Philip Pullman, Margaret Atwood, and Jonathan Franzen to provide their own list of rules for fiction writing.

The advice ranges from the maternalistic (“Nobody is making you do this: you chose it, so don’t whine”) to the practical (“get an accountant”).

Richard Ford includes recommendations about domestic life: “Marry somebody you love and who thinks you being a writer’s a good idea” and “don’t have children.” In marked contrast, Helen Dunmore takes a stand for creative parents everywhere: “If you fear that taking care of your children and household will damage your writing, think of J.G. Ballard.” (In addition to writing over forty books, Ballard raised three children on his own after his wife died of pneumonia).

Several authors suggest carrying a notebook or journal. Ted Hughes advised Michael Morpurgo to “record moments, fleeting impressions, overheard dialogue, your own sadnesses and bewilderments and joys.”

Another key theme is discipline. “Write,” may be the best advice of all (or as Walt Whitman said, “Make the work.”) This may be common sense, but the act of being alone with one’s self and creating something out of nothing can be overwhelming, even for the most experienced writers. “Don’t wait for inspiration,” says Esther Freud. “Discipline is the key.” As A.L. Kennedy observes, “No amount of self-inflicted misery, altered states, black pullovers or being publicly obnoxious will ever add up to your being a writer. Writers write.” “You see more sitting still than chasing after,” says Jonathan Franzen. Anne Enright agrees: “Remember, if you sit at your desk for 15 or 20 years, every day, not counting weekends, it changes you. It just does. It may not improve your temper, but it fixes something else. It makes you more free.” “Discipline allows creative freedom,” says Jeanette Winterson. “No discipline equals no freedom.”

There are other memorable rules as well “Write a book you’d like to read,” recommends Hilary Mantel. “Think big and stay particular,” appears on Andrew Motion’s list. David Hare observes that “style is the art of getting yourself out of the way, not putting yourself in it.” Neil Gaiman offers this gem about the editing process: “Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong.” Anne Enright suggests a writer’s version of death meditation: “Imagine that you are dying. If you had a terminal disease would you finish this book? Why not? The thing that annoys this 10-weeks-to-live self is the thing that is wrong with the book. So change it. Stop arguing with yourself. Change it. See? Easy. And no one had to die.”

And no discussion about the writing life would be complete without some mention of fear. “Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money,” says Jonathan Franzen. “Be without fear,” advises A.L. Kennedy. “This is impossible, but let the small fears drive your rewriting and set aside the large ones until they behave–then use them, maybe even write them. Too much fear and all you’ll get is silence.” I’m especially fond of Will Self’s advice: “You know that sickening feeling of inadequacy and over-exposure you feel when you look upon your own empurpled prose? Relax into the awareness that this ghastly sensation will never, ever leave you, no matter how successful and publicly lauded you become. It is intrinsic to the real business of writing and should be cherished.”

Finally, Esther Freud gets the prize for the most obvious, but essential rule: “Never forget, even your own rules are there to be broken.”

Click here to read part one of The Guardian’s “Ten Rules for Writing Fiction.” Part two is available here.

Click here to subscribe to Gwarlingo.