The Most Important Lessons I’ve Learned About Being (and Becoming) an Artist

A year into my Web3 journey, I wrote this article: Everything I Wish I’d Known About NFTs Before I Started, which included suggestions like “get your butt on Twitter,” “make work for yourself, first and foremost,” “reject perfectionism,” etc.

Of course, all of those are easier said than done, so the process in finding these come to fruition can only be done in the day-to-day work, alone, in the studio — pursuant of freer, better work, each time less derivative, more honest.

Now, I’m two years in and it warrants another reflective post — especially because I’ll contradict myself in a few instances (isn’t evolution amazing? and scary? and so, so humbling?). Thankfully, there’s no one right way to be an artist — and if any time is a good time to be one, it’s now.

“Personal Development” by the artist-author (2023)

With that in mind, the following points are a few things I’ve picked up along the way. Subscribing to these has helped me maintain balance in my career, and personhood, as I navigated through a wild ’21, a confusing ’22 and now a —TBD — ’23. (Though, to be transparent, I am expectant for continued growth, expanding peace, and inspired creativity.)

1. Art gets made offline. I know that this sounds very common sense. Sometimes, though, that’s kind of the kick in the ass we need. (I was reading a book the other day and this struck me: “If you want to change your life, you have to change your life.” Ridiculously, devastatingly obvious, I know, but it was just what I needed to hear.) We’re often under the harmful assumption that the more we create content, manipulate the algorithm, stay consistent in our online presence, engage for engagement, etc., the more quickly we’ll be “discovered” or go viral or garner the kind of attention that catapults us into a new stratosphere of influence/impact/financial abundance. Maybe the answer is — instead of trying to hack the system — work on your work. It will take time, but the likelihood of finding success by consistent effort is greater than the content creator looking to catch a lucky break. (You know what they say, anyway: “An overnight success is 10 years in the making.”) Prioritize the work. Good art gets found out.
2. Practice strong business discernment. Take on projects with people only in alignment with your values and intent. Do business with people you trust — financially and artistically. You’ll enjoy the process more, and (hopefully) you’ll be proud of the outcome, whether the project is externally “successful” or not. One of my favorite collections I’ve put out to date was in collaboration with Sean Williams and Cody Samson, titled “Tensor in Vitro,” a 5-part animated series made of AI-generated works trained on the artwork of mine and Sean’s. We have so far sold exactly one — out of all 100 — editions, which would have been disappointing, except for the fact that I’m so proud of the work and believe in the creative integrity of my co-collaborators. I’m still excited to have put the project out, and whether we sell another edition or not, I’m so glad it exists. Because of this, I suggest: Avoid jumping into the unknown for the money alone.
3. To make money holistically you have to make money…holistically. Simple, I know, but I’m a woman of simplicity. (See the example in #1.) There are a million and a half more ways to make money by corruption, deception, and greed than there are ways to make money holistically. If you’ve spent any time in Web3, you know this to be true — the scam culture is pervasive. The problem, though, is that business — the exchange of money — is representative of energetic exchange. The more I engage in that exchange, or the transaction of one thing for another (as in, with sales, commissions, subscribers), the more I understand that what I release returns to me.
4. Art can be made from a place of peace and pleasure; it doesn’t require, in every instance, suffering and despair, or that you give in to your vices. I’ve always struggled to believe that art can be made out of wellness. (Isn’t that terrible? I’m not sure why, either, but I don’t believe I’m alone here.) My favorite artists have been emotionally and mentally tormented — I have previously believed that, in order to reach that level of freedom (for lack of a better term? maybe romanticized imprisonment is better, though?) and rebellion in my craft, I needed to lean into my neuroses and find that level of despair. Unfortunately, in some seasons, I found it. Laughably, the art was fine. And even worse, I was sick. I’ve since decided that good art isn’t worth my life. I want to live long, and well, and to be free in my craft, creating from a place of euphoria rather than ruination. Tangibly, this has looked like cutting out alcohol, social media, shitty TV, consumerism (retail therapy), etc. for a time, being disciplined about meditation, drinking water, texting my mom, and and emphasizing mindful living, as a few quick examples. And, too, giving myself grace to fail or have a meltdown or ask others for more support. I believe art is the manifestation of a higher influence operating through us (check out The War of Art by Steven Pressfield for more on this — very, very good), and if we are so lucky to be a channel for art, then I am open only to those influences that bring peace and spiritual evolution to my life.
5. Acceleration is only as healthy as your infrastructure is healthy. As an artist, your scalability is important. It’s hard to keep up an entrepreneurial business, though, that has a faulty foundation. You are an artist, so I get it: The logistics can be overwhelming, but it’s imperative to get your ducks in a row (you know the ones: taxes, trademarks, periodic filing reports to keep your LLC in good standing…). If you explode as an artist social(media)ly, that’s only exciting until you can’t fulfill your orders on time and everyone starts emailing your “customer support” alias for refunds.
6. Growth into your artistry and growth out of your ego are inversely correlated. Make bad art, make ugly art, make art that you think is stupid. A Basquiat quote I think of often says it best: “I don’t think about art when I’m working. I try to think about life.” What if, instead of trying to make really technically perfect or on-trend or guaranteed-to-go-viral work, you just, I don’t know…didn’t?
7. If you look for reasons to be hurt, angry, or insecure, you will surely find them. Right now, I’m reading a book I highly recommend: Becoming Supernatural, by Dr. Joe Dispenza. In a section titled, “How energy gets stored in the body,” about a quarter of the way in, Dr. Dispenza writes about something called “neuropeptides, which are chemical messengers created by the autonomic nervous system within the limbic brain. Think of neuropeptides as molecules of emotion. Those neuropeptides signal hormonal centers, in this case turning on the adrenal glands in the third energy [solar plexus] center. As the adrenal glands release their hormones, you’re feeling pretty ticked off [to continue on from an example shared earlier in the section]. And you broadcast a specific energy signature through the third energy center that in effect carries the message, ‘Send me another reason to feel the way I’m already feeling — send me another reason to feel angry.’” Our subconscious brains, for the better or worse, are always scanning our surroundings for information that confirms our already-existing biases. If you’re (even subconsciously) expecting to fail, you probably will. (The good news is that the opposite is also true.)
8. Money can help fix money problems. Unfortunately, though, money doesn’t go very far in trying to fix life problems. In fact, it often amplifies and exposes them. Don’t look to make money, especially as an artist, in to escape the problems of your life that need addressed in therapy, in self-reflection, with loved ones, etc.
9. Figure out your work flow. When are you most “tapped in”? I read once, in a personal development book, I believe, that some of us are ‘night owls’ (you know the term) while others of us are ‘morning larks.’ I’m the latter — my most creative, most transcendent, most open-to-the-big-ideas hours are between 4am and 9am. Sean, my partner, is most activated at night, starting around 10 or 11pm and through the early hours. You, too, have an optimal Create State. Maybe yours is midday, after breakfast, in silence, phone turned off, post walk around the neighborhood. It could be anything that sets you up for creative and strategic success. Through trial and error, and some self-analysis, discover what that looks like for you. And then build your schedule around it, as much as you are able.
10. You will be wrong. It’s okay, and it’s necessary. Whether this applies to a future collaboration, project, partnership, painting, mixtape, investment, advocation, or ambassadorship, at some point, you will find yourself having to face it: You kinda f***ed up. Maybe you gave the wrong advice that cost someone six month’s worth of rent or you cut corners on a brand collaboration — and it shows — or you signed a really bad business deal. Please, for the love of all creation, don’t not start (or finish) something because you can’t stand to fail. You might not consider failure an option, but you should definitely consider it a guarantee. Expect that you will be wrong, so when you (inevitably) are, it doesn’t throw you off course and into a spiral. Instead, you’ll be able to maintain your merry wits about you when things go awry, address your wrongdoings with humility, apologize (and follow through on compensation) as necessary, and calmly and effortlessly return to the job — be it painting, spreadsheet reporting, or breastfeeding— at hand.

If you don’t know me, hi! I’m Sophie, a Chicago-based artist and writer.

Connect with me on Instagram or Twitter, or shoot me an email if you’d like to get in touch (sophie@sturdevantcreative.com).