Why Haven’t I Made It Yet?
No, It’s Not Too Late: A Guide For Artists in Web3
Maybe it’s just me, but the Web3 space — right now, especially — feels very disjointed. There are two camps of artists: those that have “made it” and those that are figuring out what it takes to “make it.”(Please note that the quotes are very intentional, as there are a number of ways to define success as a creator, and there’s no one right way to be an artist. In this case, I’m using “made it” as meaning financially free, secure, or at least equipped to eat and pay rent for the next few months.)
On Timing as an Artist
Because we’ve seen the space bloated beyond sustainability, we saw a lot of quick successes, outrageous cash grab projects (that worked?), and career acceleration for artists that would, in any other industry or instance, be downplayed as ‘one-hit wonders’ or mere ‘overnight successes.’
If there are, in fact, two camps of creators (the ‘made its’ and the ‘making its’), I’ll be upfront and share that I am definitely in the latter. It’s been a while since I’ve made a major sale (multiple ETH+), and I’ve been sitting on the question:
Why haven’t I made it (yet)? And if I haven’t already…is it too late for me?
The question of timeliness is one that comes up for me on occasion regarding my career. And it’s only become more pressing with the rise of NFTs as careers are accelerated over the course of months as opposed to years or (perhaps even more commonly), decades. It’s a funny question to start, considering that the way we perceive time is with both incomprehension and pride. (We think we know. But we don’t — not even close.) And acceleration — or success— isn’t linear, anyway.
It’s also funny because the short answer is no. It’s really that simple: No, it’s not too late to make it. But here’s the catch: Does that mean that every set of eyes on this article is guaranteed to make it, at least eventually? Also no.
There are a few points to consider in asking yourself the next question: “If I missed the bubble — if I haven’t made it yet— why? And what can I do to change that?”
These answers are also very simple. They just require action to back them — and that’s the hard part.
So, before we dive in, I want you to firstly remind yourself, and rest in the fact, that it’s still possible. And if you absorb what’s next, maybe even probable. (You’ll have to keep me posted on that.)
Why You Haven’t Made It (Yet)
If you’ve read any personal development books, listened to any self-help podcasts, or follow any entrepreneurial accounts on Instagram, you’re probably aware that the number one key to success in anything is consistency. An absurd and offensive amount of self-belief is good, too.
You can argue that other things are important, too, like having a personal “why” to refer back to when things get tough, leaning on accountability partners to keep you focused, etc. But at the end of the day, more than anything else, you’ll inch more closely to where you want to go specifically by showing up day in and day out and by putting in the work. (If you want a really loving-but-effective kick in the pants, read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. I’m f*cking WRECKED every time I open it.)
Another favorite author of mine, James Clear, wrote Atomic Habits, which I’ve spoken of before in these articles for artists. He explains the beauty + benefit of consistency better than anyone I know, starting on page 20 in the first chapter of the book.
“Imagine that you have an ice cube sitting on the table in front of you. The room is cold and you can see your breath. It is currently twenty-five degrees. Ever so slowly, the room begins to heat up.
Twenty-six degrees.
Twenty-seven.
Twenty-eight.
The ice cube is still sitting on the table in front of you.
Twenty-nine degrees.
Thirty.
Thirty-one.
Still, nothing has happened.
Then, thirty-too degrees. The ice begins to melt. A one-degree shift, seemingly no different from the temperature increases before it, has unlocked a huge change.
Breakthrough moments are often the result of many previous actions, which build up the potential required to unleash a major change. This pattern shows up everywhere. Cancer spends 80 percent of its life undetectable, then takes over the body in months. [And here’s the part that always gets me:] Bamboo can barely be seen for the first five years as it builds extensive root systems underground before exploding ninety feet in the air within six weeks.”
If this isn’t a case for consistency, then I don’t know what to tell you, g. If you make it, let me know what code you cracked.
How to Make It (On Your Terms)
- Define what “making it” means to you. I’m using a very limited version of the term in this article for brevity’s sake, but it’s imperative that you have a clear goal for yourself and yourself only. I know you THINK you want to be the world’s highest-paid, most successful, most sought-after artist of all time. But do you, really? Is that your ultimate goal? (If so, that’s perfect, too. You and my artist partner, Sean Williams, are in the same zone.) I thought this for myself, too, until I took the time to actually define the vision for my life. More than being an artist marked by mass adoption and consumption (which might mean world-building, event planning, etc.), I really want my collectors’ and fans’ experiences to be intimate, personal. It means that, instead of prioritizing social media, for example, I’ll use that time to write personal “thank-you” notes to collectors when shipping works. Ask yourself: Do I want my career and my recognition/following/influence to be wide or deep? (Now, it can be both, but having a clear priority is helpful to start.)
- Be an artist — even while you’re still becoming one. A major inhibitor of our progress is a mistrust or subconscious rejection of our dream as being unattainable due to external factors (“market dynamics”) or internal (“I want to be an artist but my parents didn’t believe in me so why should I?”). It needs to be embedded and woven into your identity as true as anything else about you. When you stop operating like a an almost-artist and start operating like an ARTIST artist, you’re more likely to be one. (For example, would you be more inclined to collect work from someone who says “yes, I’m an artist” or someone who says “well actually I like to make art in my spare time but only for fun and, I don’t know, it would be cool to be an artist someday but I doubt that would ever happen for poor little old me.”) Another important thing to note about artistry, too, is that you’ll never arrive. There will never be a day in which you are an artist, “officially,” because the best of us never stop learning, developing, asking questions, and posing questions. Artists for art’s sake are in absolute and ceaseless pursuit of making art. Recognition, access, financial freedom, and influence are often a cool side effect of being great at what you do, but they are never the reason to begin. If you’re afraid to step into your identity as an artist, determine why. Find healing, if you need it. And then go be an artist, even while you’re still figuring shit out.)
- Let go of the timeline. Assuming that the success bubble has already been blown *and* has burst, you can relieve yourself of trying to catch the last wave. Phew! That feels better already. Now, let’s prepare for the next one (or the one after that, or after that…). Art and its patrons are not going anywhere. The first of us were painting on cave walls to communicate, even before we had language as an effective tool. And now your cool internet friends are selling their own little digital cave paintings for millions of dollars online. (What they’re communicating now is only a matter of individual style and personal interest, but those that “make it” are, in fact, communicating important, challenging, persuasive, or provocative ideas to others.) Instead of using this precious time to convince people you have something important to say, just say it. And keep saying it and saying it and saying it until someone comes along and thinks, “huh…I’ve never really thought of it like that before.” BAM. That’s that virality factor, baby.
- Invest in building your infrastructure. I used to believe that any time would be a good time to make it. Now I know this couldn’t be further from the truth. There is, in fact, a good time to make it, and it’s only once you’ve done the work to build the infrastructure that can carry success well for the long term. If you have a year or so under your belt as an artist, with little understanding of your audience, your style, your narrative, or your identity — to find quick, accelerated success wouldn’t whip you into shape. It would crush you. Spend some time to figure out where your infrastructure is weak or unstable. How are your accounting skills? Do you need to catch up on paying taxes? Do you have good business sense? How’s your marketing? Can you speak about yourself or your work that evokes interest or engagement? Can you collaborate and cooperate with others (or a team)? Does your work need…work? Now’s the very best time to identify and fortify those weak points. And then, once you’ve built a structure of integrity, prepare to optimize opportunity — rather than letting unrealized potential (and a mismanaged opportunity) be your downfall.
- Let your good ideas marinate. A few months ago, Sean and I picked up some new materials for painting. I’ve been interested in more mixed media work to enliven my gesture and give my creativity some new breath, and Sean has his eyes set on a few major paintings over the next few months. We’re both currently inspired by George Condo, so we grabbed a handful of oil sticks and happily made our way home. Sean dove in head first with his oils, throwing color across a canvas like only he does (if you know him, you can picture it). Let me tell you, though, by the end of the day, this man was so perplexed that his paint was as wet as ever. Having worked exclusively in acrylics until this point, the drying time for oils was, for him, unexpected. So, we hung it up in our kitchen to let it dry a bit and then tabled it, figuratively speaking. A week ago, though, we’d returned from a trip and he decided to check in on the piece. “It’s dry,” he said. “I think maybe you should give it a go,” I replied. He sat on it for a while and then told me, “I’m probably going to take this in an entirely different direction than when I started. I see something so different. In fact, I probably couldn’t even keep going in that initial direction if I tried.” He’d taken a few months to marinate on this piece, and kept working in the meantime. When he returned to it, he was a different artist — inspired by new works, new stories, with at least a few new skills in his toolbox. His story is more refined, his style more recognizable. If we give ourselves some time to actually think — to be inspired, to grow — imagine how much more holistically those creative ideas can develop. And this example is only in reference to a few months; take into consideration that the most impactful art may be in the works for decades — or even a lifetime. Your creativity isn’t a production house. (Treat it like it is, and you’ll burn out before you have the chance to see success.)
- Let me bring this back around to…consistency! (I know you saw that one coming.) Read the above section again. Maybe even out loud to yourself, your roommate, or your dog, just to let it sink in. Then, develop a plan of attack. How can you best approach consistency? What does this mean for you? Get really, (like, annoyingly) clear on your capacity and commitment. Does consistency for you look like devoting two hours a day to skills development? Does it look like a weekly figure drawing class? Does it look like a three-month sabbatical in the forest with nothing to do but paint? There’s no one right way to do this (don’t forget it!), but decide what works for you and then do it. Over and over and over again, until you hit 32 degrees, and the ice begins to melt.
Clear writes, in Atomic Habits, “Change can take years — before it happens all at once.”
The change we know in Web3 happens nightly, if not minute-by-minute, to no exaggeration. But artistry isn’t content; it’s creation.
There’s no such thing as a short-cut, but the closest thing to it is consistent work, a solid infrastructure that can bear incredible and sustainability, ever-increasing success. And personal, without-a-doubt self-belief. Arm yourself with these, and trust that maybe you’ll be fine — not in spite of but because you haven’t made it (yet). Time is on your side, as long as you’re in it to win it.
