I DON'T OWN A MAC: a post about identity
See, doesn't that just look nice?
I don't own a mac.
But, oh, I want to. It's not for the status, although they are quite cool.
I want a Mac because they weigh about one tenth as much as a PC (or the one I have at least). (And because right now my sad, beyond-its-years PC is wall-bound... oh the struggle of needing a plug everywhere I go.)
Although I have these practical reasons for wanting one, at the same time, some small space in my creative heart struggles with lugging my PC around.
I'm trying to be creative. How can I do that without a Mac?
Okay, that might not be the exact thought that rushes through my head, but it's a close cousin that I'm afraid to admit is there.
What gets into your head as you create that hinders you from creating something that's purely you? How do you compare yourselves to others?
When I create abstract art, it's tempting to look side to side at other abstract artists (which might look something like scrolling through their Instagram).
THEIR ART LOOKS SO GOOD.
Will my formless art be as good and compelling as their formless art?
Can I be as creative as they are?
(My PC sitting on the desk behind me as I paint taunts at me.)
Why do I let these things get into my head?
Just this past fall, I created a series of paintings that I truly felt good about. I mean, I've had fun creating in the past, but I always felt like my abstract art came up short. And finally, now, relief. I feel like it expresses what I want it to.
Part of it is the fact that I'm getting better at what I do. But what if I had been able to get rid of those thoughts of comparison that held me back in the first place? Could I have been satisfied and more confident about what I made sooner?
Even when it comes to M A D E , there's a pressure. There are thousands of other great magazines already out there. Why does the world need my magazine? What if this idea just flops? We're a start-up... what if we're only ever a start-up? What if we never take off because there are other great magazines and blogs? What if people think we're copying?
Ugh.
The pressure is on.
Or at least it feels like it.
Just yesterday, artist Christian Watson (otherwise known as @1924us) posted something on his Instagram that was a beautiful reminder to my tired, constantly-comparing soul. (He's taken it down already, otherwise I would share the actual post with you.)
He mentioned that he and another artist with a very similar style (both living in Oregon), Sam Larson (@samlarson), are actually friends, despite the fact that people constantly try to get them to hate each other.
That one small gesture was a quiet reminder to me:
It's not a competition.
This life- everything we do- who we are and are not-
None of it is a competition.
So we can start breathing again.
When did we start needing to have THE best Instagram feed?
Let yourself breathe.
When did we need to define ourselves so completely that it's no longer fun to be ourselves anymore?
Sometimes, we don't fit into the lines of our own brand.
Because we are a human.
We are more complex than a brand will ever be.
We are more creative than we think we can be.
Sometimes, we might create something,
And we might fail.
And it might not look or feel as awesome as we wanted it to. Or as awesome as that fellow creator beside us.
So, instead of boxing ourselves within walls- where that thing we created or feed we made or idea we tried now is a failure in our books- what if we remembered that it's not a competition- and just tried again.
Life and art and creating and being is a process of refining.
It won't just take a day.
It won't be easy.
Certain things will come more easily for you than it will for others.
And vice versa.
Thanks Christian for the reminder. I needed that more than I realized. We all, as creatives, are in this together.
When we get good at what we do, it's because we made four million mistakes before that.
And for the things that just happen to work out the first time,
Those are gifts to just give us a spark of a reminder that the beautiful life, art, writing... whatever that we're trying to create- IS attainable sometimes. And is worth all the mistakes it takes to get there.
They're reminders to keep going and doing and creating.
And we'll take those rare moments as gifts.
Not as a rule to follow for the in-between moments that will never live up.
One day I'll own a Mac. And I'll take it's 4.49lb self anywhere I dang please. (No walls necessary.)
But it won't make me better at what I do or cool enough to sit by the awesome artist next to me.
And I won't need it to.
