Wildly Dedicated: Professional Development Lessons from the Arts

Entrepreneurs can draw inspiration from artists on how to live well doing what we love. Stay open to possibilities, respond fluidly to change and failure, remain passionately engaged—consider these creative lessons for professional development.

Written Feb 18, 2011, read 2256 times since then.

In a Biznik blog posting, Lara Felton asked, “How do you express yourself as an artist in your business?” As a former arts reporter, I have found myself considering a related question, “What did the artists I interviewed teach me about being the owner of a small business?”

Serious working artists of every species have something essential in common with the micro-entrepreneur. They, too, seek to make a decent living doing what they love!

A familiar mindset in American society holds that if an occupation fully engages your gifts, makes the world a better place, and has tremendous intrinsic rewards, then you really should not expect to earn money to boot. Yet, while few of the creative people I wrote about in my journalistic heyday lived in luxury, many of them lived well—simply, but well.

The lessons they conveyed about how to persevere and thrive in the business of art often emerged indirectly. These potters, painters, dancers and song-makers brought me into their habitats, like a bear or fox inviting one into its den. I asked questions but just as vitally, I observed—as one would any creature doing what comes naturally. Here is some of what I learned from them about professional development.

Stay Alert: The collage artist was leading me up grimy concrete steps when she stopped dead, bent down, and picked up a gum wrapper. Once in her studio, she rushed to the easel. That bright green wad of paper had found a permanent home, a place where it was not detritus but just the thing to attract a viewer’s eye to the corner of her new collage.

How many times, in the headlong rush to accomplish our next agenda item, do we miss the Wrigley Gum sleeve of opportunity? It may be as subtle as a sigh or the sideways slip of a glance, letting us know a client’s thoughts have turned elsewhere. What those thoughts are would be well worth hearing.

It could be as obvious as a calendar page passed on to me by a good buddy. “Serendipity is an entrepreneur’s best friend,” read the text. I taped the paper to my computer. Soon after I was sitting at my desk, pondering what to name my communications company. I was just bracing for a lengthy discovery process when I realized the answer was literally at hand.

Go With the Flow: Two sculptors in wood taught me about the nature of adaptation to change, both that which comes about through our own choices and that which strikes like a hammer blow—or a heart attack.

In the first case, an art professor moved from Wisconsin to Oregon. Her final Midwest series evoked the elongated corpses of animals who met their fate on the highways around Madison: road kill as metaphor for terrain. Now, she felt herself compelled to echo the tall Doug firs and steep slopes of the Pacific Northwest, in works that stood as erect as a 19th-century missionary.

Another, older sculptor found himself suddenly in the hospital, a monumentally heavy work left unfinished in his studio. Within days, and while still under medical care, the sculptor was happily littering his bed with light, laminated wood pieces. He had found a medium for his new reality.

Staying true to our purpose need not mean that we keep doing the same things in the same way. Sometimes it can mean making a change to get a fresh perspective, or feeling a new heft in what we are here to accomplish. And then, we carry on with creativity and renewed commitment.

Release Failure Gracefully: The potters came together a few times a year to burn cords of wood in a traditional Japanese kiln. Days later, when the kiln had finally cooled, they opened its heavy door to inspect the results. Many of the fired ceramics were astonishingly beautiful—and ruined. In procession, the potters carried the cracked and shattered pieces to a hillside, and threw them so that they spiraled through the air before tumbling back to the earth.

Every day in my business, no matter how much care I take, some things go right and some things go wrong. Sometimes I won’t know which is which for quite a while. If we can accept that we’re by no means in control of every process, it’s a lot easier to deal with outcomes. The realization shouldn’t make us sloppy. It will, if we can take failure in stride, make us even more grateful and modest when we achieve excellence.

Do. Be. Learn: None of the flourishing creators I have ever met has been satisfied with the status quo. The drive to grow, to figure things out, to make something of value, to succeed by whatever definition one uses, is always there. Complacency is not a word in their vocabulary.

At the same time, they are receptive, capable of slowing down to listen to that still, small voice within. And always, they hunger to gain more understanding of the art of their craft, and the craft of their art. They cheerfully sweat the details. They study, practice, and reflect. And they are never truly alone. . . .

Share: Artists live in community. Part of that is the nature of human culture: They have absorbed a tradition, whether of down-home fiddling or string quartets, and so they have mentors both living and long dead. Entrepreneurs can draw on a similar trove of resources for learning and development, enhanced these days not only through traditional media and instruction, but via communities of practice such as Biznik.

Entrepreneurs, like others engaged in culturally creative activities, often find both staunch friends and constructive critics in our own ranks. If not precisely birds of a feather, we are like the snow geese, sandhill cranes, swans, and ducks beyond number flocking to feast beside and upon a broad lake in winter.

I hope that paints a picture worth this thousand words.

Learn more about the author, Karen Mathieson.

Posted by Cathy Wilke, Yonkers, New York | Feb 20, 2011

Great article Karen. As someone who comes from the arts I can tell you that you're absolutely right in the comparisons--especially the part about staying alert. Oftentimes we do miss a great opportunity because we've got tunnel vision regarding our agenda.
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 21, 2011

Thank you, Cathy. I'm sure your coaching clients benefit from the creative insights you draw upon as you help them to achieve their right livelihood.

Another of my favorite analogies from the arts is to consider whether we prefer an additive or reductive creative process in "sculpting" a career. In the first, one builds a form as a ceramic artist does with clay. In the second, one removes material to reveal a presence; as with the marble lions of the New York Public Library, the artistry lies in the chips.

Do you have some clients who prefer to start from scratch to envision their future, and others who "whittle" to find the shape of their true vocation?

Thanks for any thoughts you could share with our Biznik community!

~Karen
Posted by Thomson Dawson, Ojai, California | Feb 21, 2011

Karen-- that is a lovely read indeed!

I've spent my entire self-employed career (30 years) as a "creative" professional... in the advertising and corporate communications business. It has been a good ride. But I sense that chapter of my professional life coming to an end. I have many accomplishments to look back on with a sense of pride. And there were many big failures along the way too. But you can't really live and grow and not take a few punches along the way.

In many ways I am throwing all of my "would-of/could-of" thoughts into that kiln you speak of, and let them all melt down into the raw goo of my reinvention.

Two years ago, I made a decision to claim my new creative destiny and I began to write... at first I wasn't sure about how to write, what to write about, and I had to overcome my deep beliefs that I didn't have anything interesting or particularly useful to share– but I went for it anyway.

Then I thought how cool it would be if I could make my living simply by being me–paid to have a useful point of view. No more pitching business, searching for clients, creating art for someone else, managing people and process... nope, my vision for my future requires a full commitment to keep writing and sharing even when there is compelling evidence that no one else is in the room with me.

Whatever form your "art" takes, if you opt-in to living the artist's way, the journey requires all and more of what you share here...

thanks for writing this piece... I'm sure there are many, like myself, you will appreciate your gentle encouragement to believe it and then you will see it.

to your inspired success, Thomson

Creativity, Innovation, Clarity and Confidence
Posted by Bill Bradfield, EA, Blaine, Washington | Feb 21, 2011

Karen,

I loved it, especially your little vignettes. There is inspiration in this article and advice that we can all use.

Bill

I keep the IRS off your back and out of your pocketbook
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 21, 2011

Thank you, Bill, for your kind words. I love writing about moments that have served for me as flashlight beams on the large and murky subject of creativity!

Thomson, I much appreciate your honest and heartfelt response to the article. You name something vital in your account of how you faced limiting beliefs on your vocational path. In the Feb. 14 & 21 issue of The New Yorker, there's an article by Rebecca Mead on the great Victorian novelist George Eliot, whose experience of self-doubt and dedication in the writer's solitude might be of encouragement.

~Karen
Posted by David Coblitz, St Louis, Missouri | Feb 21, 2011

Karen, Your article was a nice respit from my busy day as a working artist who tries to bring as much creativity to my business as my art, but alas, I'm never satisfied that I've done as much as I want as well as I want.

Some things you've inspired me to share from my art (as well as from my former job as an engineering researcher & product developer): I usually start out with a clear intention, but along the way I'm open to letting what I've created so far add to my ideas. Hence, I frequently discover that I can make something better than what I originally intended by keeping an eye open for ideas springing from the work itself as it comes along. Also, keeping your conscious mind quiet to allow your subconscious to speak to you helps a great deal with creativity. All my best ideas come from a bout of conscious study/thought followed by relaxing & letting my subconscious speak to me. That is where ideas spring from, but it helps to feed the subconscious material to work with first.
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 21, 2011

Many thanks for contributing to the collective insights, here, David! You have beautifully summarized the value of peripheral creative vision. One of the ceramic artists whom I interviewed for that long-ago story on the Japanese cave kiln called it "corner of the eye stuff."

Also, you give us a working artist's affirmation of how to build the reciprocal strengths of our creative muscles. The conscious and subconscious contributors to our creative efforts do best when they collaborate, don't they!

~Karen
Posted by Susie Schwarz, Smithtown, New York | Feb 21, 2011

Oh, Karen, it is a good article. I really like it because it takes all the business out of the picture and just focuses on the art, the passion and desire...to just "do, be and learn!"

A good read. Thank you for sharing.

Susie
Posted by Susan French, Tarzana, California | Feb 22, 2011

Hi Karen,

Thank you so much for this reminder to take the time to smell the roses. You're so right. It's so easy to move from one item on the list to the next and lose myself in in the process.

The tone of your article triggered that feeling of shared spirituality, or universal connectedness through all things living.

Carl Jung called that phenomenon "synchronicity." Mystically at the right place at the right time.

That special feeling of shared experience with other living things including ourselves and in which we somehow feel led or guided.

My guess: both words mean roughly the same thing.

It also reminds me to take the time to "check in" to the present. Take a breath. Be happy with what I've accomplished in that day.

Bottom line: our souls and spirits don't flourish on crossing things off of our list. They flourish when we open our awareness to everything around us, to be creative, to allow for the living connections in our lives that are NOT connected to our agenda or to our bottomline.

Great article. I love to read things that lead me back to the reasons I bother in the first place.

Susan http://www.hypno4success.com
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 22, 2011

Susie and Susan, my thanks for dropping by to spend some time with fellow professionals who are wildly dedicated to the art of their business!

Susan, your comment about Carl Jung couldn't be more apt as a follow-up to David's observations. Jung developed the concept of the collective unconscious, in which crucial themes of the human experience are available "on tap" for our creativity and growth. As you, David, and many others have found, connecting with that powerful source comes through receptivity, and is expressed through action.

Yesterday was my birthday, and so I would especially like to thank all the Biznik readers and commentators who helped make it so meaningful. Eons ago, my high-school graduating class took as its motto, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life." If that is indeed the case, then we have the opportunity to make every day a creative "birth" day for ourselves and the world!

~Karen
Posted by Malya Muth, Edmonds, Washington | Feb 23, 2011

Hi Karen. So many wonderful comments already. It seems there are a whole lot of people like you and like me too, that have emerged from a purely creative expression into a business activity, bringing our creative tendencies with us.

There was a moment while I was reading your article that I sighed - remembering how blissful those years were, when my focus was mostly on the art of crafting a musical phrase or perfecting my tone quality to evoke a certain emotion from a sung word. But your article is a wonderful reminder that we can find moments of beauty and transcendence by staying mindful of those artistic sensibilities we cultivated from music or visual art, and incorporating them into our business activities.

The crafting of the perfect article for instance - but also as David said, quieting our conscious mind to allow solutions and ideas to spring from our inner pool of connected wisdom - such a delicious experience!

(Mine always happens in a warm bath, truly escaping back to the pool of inner consciousness :)

And also, like the kiln remnants gracefully tumbling down the hillside, keeping in mind that the failures and successes in business evolve us, just as the years of practice and perseverance moved us forward in pursuit of our art.

Thank you for another inspiring article. I need to subscribe to your blog. Can you send me that link?

Malya
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 23, 2011

Thank you, Malya, for an eloquent contribution to the conversation. Comments such as yours reveal the wisdom of the group, the buzzing hive of insight and industry that is Biznik!

Interesting that you should ask about the blog. I dismantled it in frustration last fall, having found it the wrong venue for what I was trying to accomplish. I realized that what I really wanted was to be writing in and for a community of practice--namely, Biznik.

Lately, however, I've been reading the advice of Biznik blogging gurus Judy and Bob Dunn. I finally grasped--as an artist might identify the right medium for communicating visually--the significance of what I called the dang thing in the first place. (See: Stay Alert, above)

So, while I will maintain an active community writer presence on Biznik, the Ship's Log will return in Spring 2011, with short postings on the voyages of Serendipity. Whew. It was colored pencils, not acrylics, needed all the time.

~Karen
Posted by sarah levine-simon, Poughkeepsie, New York | Feb 24, 2011

I so agree with you. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSJs9EEzJnA
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 24, 2011

Sarah,

What a delightful al dente presentation! Brava for your singing, and thanks to you, the faithful Thisby, and your friends for creating a modern-dress Mozart scene molto originale. I'm not sure I'll ever see feather dusters in the same way again.

With any luck, this string of comments will demonstrate more visualizations of the creative spirit at play and work.

~Karen
Posted by sarah levine-simon, Poughkeepsie, New York | Feb 26, 2011

Thanks Karen. We are onto Sausage Today with Tosca relish next month. Keep on explaining about the value of the arts. We need you.
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Feb 27, 2011

And Sarah, we certainly need your wicked-good way with an aria!

~Karen
Posted by sarah levine-simon, Poughkeepsie, New York | Feb 27, 2011

In my town of Poughkeepsie (Dutchess County) NY, the artists are members of The Arts Council and the business people belong to the Chamber of Commerce. The Chamber has no category in their directory for those of us who make a very decent living giving private lessons. I belonged for 4 years in order to buy cheaper health insurance. I fought and fought to make them see that I was an entrepreneur.
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Mar 03, 2011

Sarah, thank you for a painfully clear demonstration of the cultural divide known as "town and gown."

It's true that from medieval times onward, those who worked with "intellectual capital" held their black Hogwartian robes apart from the common mire of money-making, conveniently missing that someone had to mortar the bricks in their ivory towers.

However, those dealing in the tangible often forgot that science, to name just one discipline, provided them with safe milk to feed their children, and a vaccine to keep them from dying of smallpox. (See: Pasteur, Louis)

Something similar happens with the arts. There's a willingness to consume, to enjoy, to rely on what the arts provide, but not a sense of how they are part of the fabric of society, the weft to the commercial warp.

This is especially true when one is dealing with institutionalized mindsets. While I am sorry to learn of your experience, I am not overly surprised. Just today, I read of a new report from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, carding down both my own state, Oregon, and its neighbor, Washington, because they require companies to pay more than the federally-established minimum wage, currently $7.25 an hour.

The good news, I suppose, is that with a wage like that, parents can't afford to pay a music teacher to help their kids warble or wield a bow. Now maybe those pesky pseudo-entrepreneurs with their artsy-fartsy way of thinking will just give up and leave town.

~Karen
Posted by sarah levine-simon, Poughkeepsie, New York | Mar 04, 2011

So well put, Karen. It's tiny but I see a good trend in home-schooling. It's the frustration with all of the institutionalization you speak of above. And it's a way to cross the divide. I count among my students several home-schooled teenagers. Parents were "down-sized" and started home-based business. These kids are a pleasure to teach. They interact well with the elderly, the young, their own age. The parents embrace the arts. Work space and home space have become the same in a good way.
Posted by Karen Mathieson, Portland, Oregon | Mar 04, 2011

What heartening news, Sarah! I appreciate hearing about the financial and cultural adaptivity of your students' families. As a long-time member of the electronic cottage industry, I offer them (and you) a solid round of applause.

~Karen