I’ve been working with creative and performing artists and other creative types — businesspeople, scientists, academics, lawyers, physicians, and folks from all different callings — for the past thirty years.
I’ve worked with MacArthur fellows, bestselling authors, and Academy Award winners; with teenagers who are just starting out; with unrecognized painters, writers, and musicians who bring love and commitment to each new project, despite their lack of marketplace success; with creators in every conceivable set of circumstances.
I’ve worked with rooms full of British artists, German artists, Flemish artists, and I’ve facilitated workshops in small towns and in cities such as Paris, London, Berlin, and New York. Thousands of creative and performing artists have come forward to be coached for free by the creativity coaches that I train — and each of these thousands of artists has told me his or her story.
Many aspects of my coaching and teaching practice have changed over the years. Not so long ago I always traveled somewhere to do a workshop. Today I’m just as likely to visit virtually or via telechats. For instance, in September of this year I’ll present the keynote address at a creativity conference in Bogotá, Colombia — via Skype, while sitting at my desk at home. The next day I’ll lead a workshop for thirty Colombian participants — again, virtually.
These changes are natural and even inevitable as technology makes them possible, and as I get older and busier. What does not change are the problems. The human beings who come to me want to create or perform. Most not only want to create or perform but also hope to do good work that is desired and respected. So much stands in the way of their realizing their dreams, goals, and ambitions! So much that I have written book after book exploring the answer to this problem and the answer to that problem and the answer to the next problem.
In short, I’ve seen a lot and I’ve written a lot, more than twenty books’ worth, about artists and depression, artists and anxiety, artists and addiction — analyzing the issues of the creative personality and the creative life. In this book I want to distill those lessons and identify what it takes to achieve your best possible life in the arts. In short, I hope to provide you with a user’s manual for your creative journey.
Each of the nine issues I describe in this book is of vital importance to anyone who creates or wants to create. Most likely you know how often you stall, block, and give up. Most likely you understand that the art marketplace is a difficult place. Most likely you understand how often time gets away from you, how often you fret about whether what you’re attempting matters to anyone, including yourself, and how often your discipline eludes you. You can name the challenges. But what to do about them? Mastering the nine keys in this book will help you tremendously.
What’s stopping you may be a lack of internal freedom — to speak up, to make messes, to have a point of view. It may be that stress is stopping you in your tracks. It may be that you don’t know how to get a grip on your mind and prevent yourself from thinking thoughts that don’t serve you. It may be that you lack confidence, that you have trouble kindling your passion, or that you communicate poorly in the marketplace. We will look at all those issues.
I hope that the following discussions will help you clarify what it takes to create regularly and deeply and to negotiate the challenges of the creative life. If you were suddenly handed enough time and all the energy in the world, you would still have to master these nine challenges in order to get your creating done. I hope this book presents you with a clear picture of these challenges — and points you to the solutions.
What do I mean by “your best life in the arts”? I see it as the following. You get to create or perform — that is, you get to do the thing you love to do. You have at least some successes. You avoid as many pitfalls as possible, including those that you put in your own way by virtue of your personality shadows. You create a life that includes creating but is not limited to creating: you make meaning in many different ways. You make yourself proud by your efforts, and you grab a slice of the art marketplace pie. All that is something.
You may well be wishing for more. You may be wishing for bestsellers, eye-popping fame, and huge paydays. Yes, these things are certainly pretty to think about! I am not against any of them. However, your best life in the arts, even if it doesn’t include stardom and huge piles of money, may still be a beautiful and rewarding thing.
Life is, after all, not a question with an answer — it is a project to be lived. If you can live it well while writing and publishing, while dancing and teaching dance, while painting and exhibiting — if you can live it well while making use of your brain, your heart, and your muscles — that is excellent project management and a great deal!
I’ve loved working with my clients, and I continue to love my work. I hope that what I’ve learned will help you. But in order for it to help you, you will have to do some real work. Roll up your sleeves in the service of your best life in the arts!