You Could Drop Me Anywhere
Not long ago, I was talking with an artist friend I have known for years who has always expressed a kind of amazement that I have managed to build a relatively successful life as an artist.
From his perspective, this seemed improbable and a bit of a mystery.
I did not come from a privileged background. There was no inherited wealth. No family connections. No institutional support structure waiting for me. Along the way I had a family to support, children to raise, responsibilities that required attention beyond the studio. From the outside, I suppose it could appear that somehow favorable circumstances aligned around me and allowed me to continue while other artists struggled.
At one point he asked me a question that stayed with me.
He said something to the effect of this:
“What if everything suddenly changed? What if you found yourself in a completely different situation, somewhere obscure, less fortunate, without the circumstances you have now. Wouldn’t you just give up?”
I thought about it for only a moment.
And I said no.
No, because he was misunderstanding something fundamental.
He was assuming that my life as an artist has been the result of circumstances.
But circumstances were never the determining factor.
Based on how I am, you could drop me anywhere and I would figure out how to make my way.
This is something I think many people misunderstand when they look at the lives of artists or anyone who has managed to sustain a long practice over decades.
Observers often see outcomes.
They see exhibitions, sales, recognition, publications, opportunities.
And naturally they begin constructing explanations based on external conditions.
They imagine luck. Timing. Connections. Privilege. Favorable circumstances.
But what they do not see is disposition.
They do not see the underlying structure of mind and temperament that existed long before any visible success arrived.
For some people, making art is something they do when conditions allow for it. For others, making a creative life is simply how they move through the world.
These are very different things.
The first depends upon circumstances. The second grasps and reorganizes circumstances.
I have never thought of myself as someone pursuing success as an artist. I simply became organized around continuing.
START, CONTINUE.
I wake up and work. I adapt as necessary. I adjust to changing realities. I learn what is needed. I keep moving forward.
If everything disappeared tomorrow, I would do exactly what I have always done. I would begin again from wherever I happened to be standing.
I suspect this is one of the great dividing lines between people who imagine themselves becoming artists and those who have fully accepted the identity of being one.
The artist is not someone who makes art when life permits. The artist is someone who arranges life itself around the continuation of the work.
External success is always downstream and uncertain.
It may come or it may not. Conditions may improve or deteriorate. Recognition may appear or disappear. Money may come or go.
But none of those things determine the continuation of the work.
The real question is much simpler.
If everything around you changed tomorrow, would you still continue? Could you adapt? Could you begin again from nothing? Could you reorganize yourself under entirely different circumstances?
For me, the answer has always been clear.
You could drop me anywhere. And I would figure it out.
Because the real work was never learning how to become successful.
The real work was becoming the kind of person who continues forward regardless.