On Becoming an Artist

A student contacted me via Instagram recently and suggested that they were an ‘aspiring artist.’ I politely responded that there is no ‘aspiring’— either you is or you ain’t. If you’re writing poetry, you’re a poet. If you’re making art, you’re an artist. You don’t ‘aspire’ to anything. You just are.

I live by the idea that an artist is anyone who loves what they do. You can bring a level of ‘artistry’ to anything. If you love baking cookies, you’re an artist, no one can take that away from you. However, this aspirational idea does bring up an important question:

Who decides?

If anyone can be an artist, then how does one distinguish themselves as a ‘real’ one? Which boxes do you have to check off? When do you ‘arrive’ or graduate out of amateurity?

Ya know who decides? You.

I can go high brow or low brow on this debate. High brow looks like this: in the 1917 Armory art show in New York City, Marcel Duchamp debuted his work called ‘Fountain.’ It was a literally a men’s bathroom urinal laid on its back and signed by the artist. That’s it. Duchamp was asked in an interview about the work, why it was to be deemed ‘Art.’ His reply was simply, “Because I say so.”

That’s it. You decide who and what you are. You don’t need to be Monsieur Duchamp or even Mr. Victore—and you don’t need our permission either. If you’ve made something, and you like it, then it’s art. The same thing goes for your credibility as an artist. You don’t need anyone else’s credentials or authority. You don’t need documentation or a degree. It’s an attitude you have to adopt. A declaration to make and hold to.

Say it loud and proud!
“I am an artist because I SAY SO!”

Stop judging. I hear too many times the question, “…would you take a look at my work and tell me what you think?” My standard response is this: it’s not important what I think about your work. I am a terrible judge of my OWN work, let alone yours. I am a terrible judge of my self worth, my image, and my value. We ALL are. So don’t judge. Just make. And here’s the funny thing: it’s not even about the work itself. It’s about how you enjoy making it, how it makes you feel, and how you get it out the door—and sell it. Even if you think that you’re making ‘bad’ art, keep making—until it is ‘good’ art. I’ve seen so many of you do this. Just keep going. I beg you.

To become an artist, a coder, a poet, a singer, or musician there is no entry fee, no secret handshake. You need to do the work. Understand that you are worthy, your work has value, and know that someone out there wants it. Because you say so.

Now, get back to work.