Artist = Working Stiff
We declared in the first post in this series that an artist is an entrepreneur. Let’s go further.
An artist is a working stiff.

Are you a ballerina? You are not a sweet, sylph-like damsel.
You are a jock.
You are a professional athlete. You are tough. The ordeals you put your body through would cripple an NFL linebacker.
Yes, it’s romantic to be onstage at the Met in The Nutcracker and yes, your Mom and Dad will burst themselves with pride and little girls will gaze at you in awe and envy. But behind the legitimate romance of the balletic stage—and it is legitimate—are thousands of hours of grueling practice and classwork, nights coming home on the subway alone and freezing and exhausted. Torn ligaments, ruptured ACLs, bone spurs, sciatic nerve damage, plantar fasciitis, broken bones. Politics within ballet companies. Getting screwed out of roles. That’s not romance. That’s hard, backbreaking work, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
And we’re not even talking about self-doubt, fear, struggles with self-belief, sabotage by oneself and by others, arrogance, complacency, perfectionism, ambition.
Yes, succeeding as an artist takes skill and talent and genius. But more than that, it requires mental toughness. Because the artist is alone. Indeed, the ballet dancer may be part of a company and the comedy writer may have a gig on a cable show. But these jobs can end in the blink of an eye. We can all be on the street any moment.
How does the artist navigate this lonely, pitiless, competitive jungle? She must inculcate within herself the mindset of the entrepreneur, the professional, the warrior.
Keep up the insightful writing, Steve!
I got another Post this AM, alongside your, Steve. From a site that oversees attitude and output in the Songwriting/ Music field. It told me that , in essence, micromanaging my songs is wasting energy, I should just let them “Flow out”.
That’s fine if you are in a studio with others to respond to, others who have the chops on a variety of instruments and studio equipment. I’m up this am at 5;30 checking the email. My Mate wants breakfast before we go to the dentist and the P.O.Box to pick up mail. THEN I get to micromanage a song. We’re recovering from the last 2 weeks of serious disruption of schedules and getting our shit together with each other’s help, and optimistic as always, I will try to get back to Laundry and other sidebars. We DID manage to get groceries stocked up after the very brief houseguest left and the neighbors came home after 2 weeks (expected) and care of their pet was relinquished.
No broken ankles or other trauma, just being over 80 and when the garbage was opened to prepare to clear out the mess in the kitchen, the bags in the barrel proved to have been savaged by Racoons and needed to be dumped out, shoveled into fresh bags, and the barrel hosed out and clamped with industrial strength bungees until the evening before this AM pick-up. Yesterday I was exhausted to the point of only capable of staring straight ahead in a small form of shock when we celebrated freedom by going out to breakfast. Just venting…sorry..
Muriel, I feel for you. I also had a challenging two weeks. With the small creek in the garage fiasco, multiple x-rays, and a trip to the dump, all I accomplished was a half-assed background for a painting and half a page of notes for a short story. But amidst the chaos, a better beginning and end to the story presented itself. Look for the gems among the mundane. Don’t give up.
Hard work without any guarantee of success, hmmm. Insanity. Signing on for the duration. Wishing all a week without the doubts.
Thank you so much my dear Steve.
Let me introduce the romantic warrior. The warrior who when he or she closes at night the doors to the audience and to the non-evolutionary people of terrible upbringing, they become romantic. They cry, they feel, they are happy children, angry dogs, scared babies without their mommy, total failures, they dive in the wells of fear and rise through the ashes of the volcano in the jungle of beautiful exotic fruits-of-choice.
And they pass through fire and shadow in their romantic frenzy so they may be able to become at last, when all mythical symbols become silent, stable workers and Peter Pan sends them back home to the sensible cosmos, to the sensible pen and paper, and ink onto their thumb and middle finger replace the magic with natural laws.
Two symbols clashing.
As a retired dancer, I say thank you for acknowledging that we are athletes as hard-working as any dedicated athlete. For me, one who reads your message message every week and have for at least two years, this inspired me the most to keep going. I’ll keep this message so I can read it again every time I doubt myself. Thank you.
So true. It’s not just a dream it’s your “business” and you have to work like any other business owner does.
I really enjoyed reading the comments this morning, which I don’t usually do since I read the post in my email. But I feel like I’ve finally found my tribe! Don’t feel so alone or out of place. I started pursuing my art as a novelist but segued into music where I “micromanage” my songs, writing lyrics and music, performing and producing. Not really going anywhere but a couple streaming service with a few listens but I love it!
Glad you found this tribe, Kathy. Welcome!
“Because the artist is alone.”
It’s easy to live alone physically, by yourself.
It’s hard to live alone mentally, with yourself.
“She must inculcate within herself the mindset of the entrepreneur, the professional, the warrior.” The Warrior Ethos, dear Steve!!
Every writer should pin this to a wall beside his writing table. Because we all, from time to time, experience adversity and feel discouraged. Your words are a reminder that what we do is not easy. If it was, anyone could do it.
Thank you.
Awesome, inspirational post as always. Thanks.
This blog post really hits home! Being an artist is definitely more “working stiff” than dreamy muse. It’s the grind that counts.
Who’s the artist? There’s something so fetching about that illustration!
And all that pain, adversity, and trauma the dancer endures is in complete contrast to the beautiful/elegant/seemingly effortless performance they create.
Just makes the art they create even more amazing . . .
It’s all about lacing up your boots and cinching your pack and getting along down the trail, yeah?
“She must inculcate within herself the mindset…” I wondered on the etymology of the word “inculcate,” and so looked it up. And lookie there… from the Latin for “to tread.” Harmony in metaphors! Giddy-UP!
A little tough love from Steven.
Dammit, Steve! And just when I was ready to throw myself yet another “pity party,” too, you had to go & ruin it with your “tough love, come to Jesus, win one for the Gipper” inspirations—LOVE YA, BRUH!!!😎 ☮️🤙🔥
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