Chapter One - Talent and the value of art

 

Chapter One

Talent and the value of art

Do you have an affinity for something that is hard to put a value on, a way to express yourself uniquely that can’t be described as just having fun or something that serves as a distraction? Is there something in your world - maybe even somewhat abandoned in your youth - that you can lose yourself in and feel extended into? This blurry, undefinable thing in your lane that is self-generated, that pulls at your curiosity and makes you feel at home might be an indication that you have a natural talent for something. Forget for a moment whether or not you can do it for a living or can at least be hired or commissioned to do it. Forget for a moment whether you think you’re even good at it. Let’s just address the natural inclination to do something that’s unique to how you want to do it. That’s talent. 

Your immediate thought might be that you don’t know how to paint or sing, or dance. Don’t equate it to art. First there’s you, a unique human being who has lived through a story only written for you from moment to moment. Then there’s talent, how you uniquely do something in a way that nobody else can. Then there’s art, the medium and outcome of what you do. If you take talent out of the equation, you have a person who is very efficient at the fundamentals, but plays only the notes on the page, dances the steps but doesn’t engage with a partner, writes only the facts, or performs a sport in a predictable and beatable way. It’s the uncanny valley of expression, and you’d be surprised at how many people fight their own instincts to follow the plan. Talent creates the artist, the storyteller, the athlete you cheer for, the thing that resonates with you on a deep level, and it doesn’t take huge success or awards to validate it. 

Somehow, it’s the hardest thing to allow yourself to nurture. It’s an amazing gift, an extension of your vocabulary to express more than can be described in simple conversation alone. It is a language (one could say it’s one of the romantic languages), a dialect, a specific and purposeful overture that begins capturing what it is you want to say with a blurry image and focuses it over time. It is one of the hardest things to attach purpose to if you don’t already know what you want to say or do with it, so it’s easy to dismiss. Don’t do that to yourself. If you feel like you have  talent for something, own it. 

Go ahead, take this moment to allow yourself ownership of talent for something, or even a few things. Again, you don’t have to be good at it yet. Say it: “I have a talent for ___________.”

Once you discover you have talent for something, your greatest joy will come from the freedom to do it. The only thing that will ruin this love - and this has the potential throughout your life as an artist - is when other people attach their own ideas about what you should do with that talent and what you should say with it. People, from strangers to those closest to you, will tell you to make money, go on reality TV shows, or they’ll tell you what to do and how to do it. Many times, it isn’t even specific people, but rather the anticipation of what people in general will say, and how they might dismiss it or control it. 

The only problem is, none of them were in the room when you figured out you could do it. They won’t be part of your rehearsals and self-discovery, and they won’t fully experience or understand your low points or let you have your triumphs without telling you to already think about what comes next. What they’re not even giving enough oxygen to is the fact that your talent already has value that might not have context to whomever is giving you advice. Most people who will share an opinion or advice with you are doing so based on one viewing. They are basing this opinion on their own experience, which doesn’t apply to you. At all. 

I’ll say it again: Advice from someone for how to do something, especially when it comes to expression and creativity, is just a reaction. They are fulfilling their role as an audience member, and they are making sense of it. The best and most useful feedback you will ever get is a sense of how you’re coming across. 

Two things that I will reinforce with you are important to remember and easy to forget. First, you as an artist and whatever you create has value already. The things you create, especially spontaneously, are born in truth from the moment, or at least colored by it, so it has great value because it attaches meaning to life. In these modern, digital times, most everyone who wanders around you - especially in big cities - are preoccupied with little screens or soundtracks that take them somewhere else. 

Take a moment to lift your eyes from the page and look for humanity around you. 

If the people on your landscape aren’t specifically focused on a task, who is actually focused on what’s happening around them? Are these people thinking about the past or worried about the future, but not in the present? Are they holding the little screen in front of them, endlessly scrolling to see what other people are doing? Who is actively engaged in the now? 

That’s what the arts do. If you’re creating something new, personal, and specific, you’re interrupting the script of distraction and inspiring your audience to think and feel something. Anything that reminds people that they’re alive has value on immeasurable levels, and that goes for the artist as well. You didn’t receive talent by coincidence or dumb luck. Talent is a life-affirming gift. 

The second thing I will tell you is that you have the right to appreciate the present without any thought to the future. All we really have for sure is the present moment. That is our precious time to interact, to communicate with urgency, to take in everything that’s happening around us. The inspired reaction behind people responding to you and what you should do, translated, is them putting a greater value on you and your talent than the current context implies. It’s as if they’re saying “I wish more people knew about this artist!” That’s totally valid and a huge compliment when you understand it - they’re not trying to fix you - and it shouldn’t take away from your enjoyment and appreciation for your experience. You’re allowed to enjoy this and appreciate that people have a reaction, even if it’s misguided. It was your path that brought you here anyway, and it will be your journey after this. 

There’s a third thing! I totally lied. I want to attach this to your DNA as an artist: The inherent nature of being a creative person is that whatever you do is going to feel imperfect. That’s why it’s beautiful. You are celebrating the odd and unexpected things that happen to us in life. If you want perfection, become a mathematician or architect. Respect and enjoy the imperfection. That’s where the genius moments of authenticity will come from, and will in turn reflect the human experience. Beyond that, do NOT feel the need to apologize because things didn’t go the way you wanted to, or if internally, you’re comparing yourself with another artist or an idea of what you wanted to do. By apologizing, you are telling your audience that their instincts for liking what you did are flawed and incorrect. Stop it! Don’t tell them it could have been so much better, or that things went wrong. If they couldn’t tell the difference, then for all you know you could have had moments of all natural, wild and free range genius. 

This creative life that has chosen you is a never ending exercise of falling forward, of chasing your center, pursuing truth and asking questions. Some of your instincts will cause you to doubt yourself or compare your life with your friends and family members who may have found what you view as a more stable and enjoyable life. “Maybe I should have settled down,” you might ask yourself. Sometimes during this journey you’ll even quit, and that’s okay, too. It’s all valid. A creative life, however, will put you on the dynamic slant that keeps you leaning - and learning - towards the unknown. That’s what makes it so important and exciting. 

Here goes the old cliche: If it was easy, everyone would be out there doing it. As an old acting teacher of mine once said, artists are very special, maybe even broken people. Nobody in their right minds would go through this on purpose. (It’s almost as if we had a choice, right?)

Consider yourself lucky that you have this gift. You are made to communicate this way. No apologies or excuses are needed. 

One recurring thing I will put in front of you at this point of every chapter that follows is this idea: If you are fine with just having talent, be it for writing, singing, musicianship, dancing, painting, balloon twisting, contortion, aerial acrobatics, or whatever makes you happy, you could absolutely just keep doing it without any aspirations to go further, to make money or do it for an audience any bigger than your close family or stuffed animals and lead a long and happy life as a creative individual. They are YOUR gifts to do with as you please, and you are the main character of your own story. You could even stop reading this book if everything has thus far given you the validation you need, and that would be just fine. What comes after validation is up to you. 

If you’re curious about what the next steps some people take are, read on.