Category: Discussions/Essays

“We are called to be architects of the future, not its victims.” — Buckminster Fuller

Much has been said about setting goals if we are to get anywhere in life. But artists in general are not known to be good at setting goals. It’s supposed to be against our nature for the liberal stigma attached us — a persona that implies that our lives be selfishly carefree and aloof — says that our work (when we actually do work) is totally dependent on our gifted talent and spur of the moment inspiration. How else could we be so both lovingly revered and widely shunned by society at the same time?

But we know better. We know that without discipline our wants and visions become nothing but mere hope and memory. Because without a carefully constructed vision and game plan to build ourselves into productive and happy artists, we’ll never develop either the skills or strength necessary to accomplish anything, let alone our dreams.

“Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength.” — Arnold Schwarzenegger

There are many rules to success. They include faith in ourselves, hard work, discipline, the ability to ignore naysayers as well as the strength to endure failure. We also need good habits and rituals, so that we do the right things regularly and automatically. But all that is for naught, if we do not chart and track our progress.

Remember these? I wasn’t always goal oriented. I still remember my best friend and I had, by far, like the least gold stars of anyone in my grade 2 class.

Charting and tracking our goals forces us to acknowledge them every single day. So, not only do we have to spend the time thinking about and writing down our goals, we must place them visually in front of us where we can see them regularly. This idea goes beyond just being inspired. It’s about keeping focused and staying on track. We all know how easy it is to fall off the wagon so to speak. Dreams and goals always feel distant — all finish lines do — and as terrible it is to say this, the odds are we will fail.

Regardless of anyone’s opinion of him, Arnold Schwarzeneggar is the definitive example of someone who set his goals high and created an effective game plan to accomplish them. Coming from a small Austrian town with limited access to both opportunity and education, the odds were all stacked against him. From becoming a five-time Mr. Olympia bodybuilder and iconic movie star to sitting on the throne as Governor of California, few people have accomplished as many grand and diverse dreams in a single life time.

But odds are irrelevant when it comes to actual living. We all know that anything can happen. Yes, we can win OR lose aiming for our goals, but by not setting any goals, failure is all but GUARANTEED. Dreams are achieved by first envisioning them, then by inching closer to them day by day. In charting our progress, we are forced to acknowledge whether we are actively doing anything to make them come true.

Personally, I set two types of goals that are charted and tracked: outcome goals and action goals.

Outcome Goals:

Outcome goals are what most people think of when they think of goals. Examples include winning a marathon, becoming a great animator or become as big as Arnold Schwarzeneggar. These types of goals are easy to identify and may be inspiring, but their success is dependent on many factors, some of which are completely outside of our control. Sometimes these goals are vague and even hard to measure — what does becoming a great animator really mean anyway? or happiness for that matter? Outcome goals are also large and distant, in that they can rarely be achieved quickly (if at all). Their grandiosity and the difficulty involved make them very hard to hold onto consistently in your heart and mind. Life gets busy and soon, we forget or give up on them. For far too many people, such goals, no matter how achievable, become like those bygone childhood dreams and the very language that they use — words like “wish” and “hope” — give these people away.

“Life can be pulled by goals just as surely as it can be pushed by drives.” – Viktor E. Frankl

Therefore, when making our outcome goals, we must make them as specific and inspiring as possible. Something that is worthy of our efforts and drive but can also be visualized. If, for example, we want to become a great painter, we can aim to be selected for a solo show at a famous museum. Or if we need to get back into shape, we can say we’d like to be able finish a 20 km marathon by the end of the year. The best goals are not only inspiring and grand, they are completely measurable.

This SMART goal chart should be familiar to all, but again, common sense is not common practice. In fact, most people don’t set any goals at all.

Action Goals:

These are the types of goals that we can quickly and easily see whether we’re accomplishing or not. They are small, immediate and can be easily scheduled. They have fast approaching deadlines and can be checked off on any “to do” list or calendar. The beauty of action goals is that the outcome of whether they are achieved or not have nothing to do with our environment or circumstances — they depend only on our will to do them. And when they need fine-tuning, we can adjust them accordingly but only to get us closer to our vision rather than to take a step back or worse, flake out on our promise to ourselves. If our work day has run long, and we can’t do our usual 30 minute workout, then we do 15 minutes instead. (Anyone who says they can’t spare 15 minutes is lying.)

“When it is obvious that the goals cannot be reached, don’t adjust the goals, adjust the action steps.” — Confucius

I love action goals. The reason is because they are not only simple and direct, they give an immediate sense of accomplishment. There aren’t too many things in our lives that give us that, not following orders, not doing our errands and certainly not watching TV or playing games all day. We’re talking about actionable activities we designed to better our own lives. Each time we do an action goal, we are one step closer to reaching our outcome goal. That feeling of accomplishment is almost indescribable — a sense of fulfillment that boosts the soul, confirms our intelligence and strengthens our character.

The Gossips by Norman Rockwell. Regarded primarily as “only” an illustrator during his lifetime, Rockwell was generally rejected by the fine art community. But despite this, and the strain of having to constantly produce and work with tough deadlines, it never stopped him from creating formidable art — art which was often loaded with wit, character and beauty.

So what does all this look like, working with a tandem of outcome and action goals? Well, as a personal example, I was recently diagnosed with Type II diabetes.* After going thru a few hours of justifiable despair I decided to take action; I didn’t waste one further minute and immediately set three outcome goals that were to be accomplished within six months:

(1) Drop 20 lbs

(2) Lose 5% body fat

(3) Become 90% vegan.

All three of the  goals were specific, serious and ambitious and the impact and change required in my lifestyle would be huge. Next, I set aside actionable goals, each one with its own chart that I’d place on my walls to see everyday:

(1) Find out as much as I can about the disease by reading a minimum of 3 books/research papers on the subject every week. (Ultimately, I read a total of 12 books and over 30 articles on the subject within the first three months.)

(2) Begin a rigid exercise plan of 45-60 minutes everyday. (Since that day I’ve missed a total of 22 days in 6 months and that included moving to another city and taking a 14 day trip to Japan.)

(3) Gradually transition my kitchen to becoming a vegan one, setting aside 1-2 meals per week where I’d be non-vegan as a cheat day to make the adjustment more palatable and realistic. Every time I failed to comply, I’d trimmed the content and size of my meals in proportion.

And the end result? Well, let’s just say I surprised even myself. By the fourth month, I’d lost 21 lbs and dropped 4% in body fat. I’ve now lost almost all craving for meat or dairy. My blood glucose levels are balanced and I’ve never felt more respectful of other life forms and the environment. Honestly, I didn’t fully expect to reach those goals so quickly, even as I weighed myself daily witnessing the predictable yo-yo effect of my weight and my emotions. But what was most amazing about this process was seeing the chart fill with simple annotations both in success and failure. More often than not, the sight of any unchecked boxes drove me to action almost immediately. And more incredibly, since achieving my milestones, I’ve gotten more confident and inspired to do better not just for my body, but for other areas of my life. Again I’m reminded of the power of following the process. Small success breeds further successes.

“The object isn’t to make art, it’s to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable.” ― Robert Henri

Lucian Freud, seen here working on his very last painting only two weeks before his death at the age of 88. He was a prolific painter who painted slow but dutifully his entire life. Everyday he worked and everyday he gave his full attention to his craft leading him to become the greatest realist painter of the 20th century.

I illustrated my story not to impress but only to demonstrate that setting goals in this fashion can work for anyone. The most important point is this: big identifiable goals are necessary because they serve as targets so that we can reach the not-so-measurable goals of happiness and meaning in our lives. Without them, we won’t reach beyond the merely comfortable, regular and safe. Entropy is a natural scientific law — if we do nothing, we slide insidiously from higher order to lower order, from growing to dying. Large visions and colorful dreams give us the drive necessary to move forward and, more importantly, to take action. Outcome goals inspire action goals. Action goals lead to a process of living a better, healthier and more meaningful life regardless of any future outcome.

“A moment of complete happiness never occurs in the creation of a work of art. The promise of it is felt in the act of creation but disappears towards the completion of the work. For it is then the painter realizes that it is only a picture he is painting. Until then he had almost dared to hope the picture might spring to life.” — Lucian Freud

*Note: The Center for Disease Control estimates that 1 in 3 people in America will have diabetes by the year 2050.

The original Superman was never viewed as a brilliantly creative or well-drawn superhero. But this didn’t stop the long and immense fan following due to his unique and interesting mythology about why he chooses to be who he is — the protector of humanity.

“I never made one of my discoveries through the process of rational thinking” ― Albert Einstein

I was watching a film the other night, and it wasn’t great by any standard measures, but by the time the credits rolled at the end of the picture, a couple of thoughts were refreshed in my mind. One, was that a lot of people (hundreds in fact) were required to make a project like this happen. It had the commitment of talented actors, established producers and a whole slew of artistic and technical crew. The second, in spite of its failure to engage on the whole, was that the film still had some very nice moments in it: good camera setups, thoughtful discourse and some excellent performances, all of which helped enliven individual scenes. This reminded me of a most important fact about art; any piece of art, created individually or by a group of individuals, is always worthy of respect. Simply put, making the long and hard effort to get something as difficult as a film (or even a painting or poem) complete is a huge accomplishment. The public always forgets this but shamefully, so do we — even as we battle day in and day out exercising our craft, trying to produce something of value.

Ridley Scott’s 1982 dream-like science-fiction thriller Blade Runner, featuring a riveting performance by Rutger Hauer as the replicant Roy Batty, was very poorly received by critics for its ambiguous characters and seemingly thin human story line. (A voice over narration was even inputted in its theatrical release out of fear that no one would understand it.) Today, those same critics rave about the subtle and imaginative brilliance of the film and respect it for much more than its legendary production design.

Now, that doesn’t mean we should applaud every piece of art out there or pat ourselves on the back for everything that we do, but we shouldn’t be so quick to undervalue creative effort either. I didn’t name the film that I watched because I’ve long believed that our time and energy is better spent in analysis, learning and appreciation of the creations by fellow artists rather than criticizing and judging them — I simply have too much respect for the people involved. We artists are already on a very lonely road and there is enough judgement and cynicism out there and I need not add to that. Constructive criticism — citing inconsistencies or problems based off dutiful analysis — is valuable and necessary, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. There’s a huge difference between cynical criticism and critical thinking.

“He has a right to criticize, who has a heart to help.” — Abraham Lincoln

As I have matured as both a man and an artist, my own attitude towards the judgement of things and people have changed significantly. I don’t have much interest it in anymore. I’ve begun to realize more and learn less. And while one can age without gaining any real experience (unfortunately), as we travel further in art (and life) we begin to see with greater clarity, which of course means, that we see both the good and the bad with greater obviousness and distinction. But instead of being overwhelmed by its flaws, I’ve found deeper appreciation and greater discovery. The more we see, the more we accept. We begin to see both the minutiae and the big picture, and how it’s all connected and how it all matters. There’s less room or reason for preconceived attachment to ideals or standards. There’s less desire to hold on to any expectations.

“My expectations were reduced to zero when I was 21. Everything since then has been a bonus.” — Stephen Hawking

Over time, I’ve found that intense emotional and mental focus on mistakes and failure limited in its usefulness — especially when it comes to viewing the works of others. We don’t look for “errors” in the works of Rembrandt or Van Gogh, not because they don’t exist, but rather because it serves no pragmatic purpose. Furthermore, their existence takes nothing away from the excellence of the work itself. Moreover, what we perceive as imperfect may be exactly what makes a piece of art so distinct and brilliant. Contrast is a fundamental component of great artistry.

Alberto Giacometti’s sculptural work is a brilliant display of contrast in shape and proportion. His “imperfect” representation of the real world is a “perfect” display of his creativity.

Again, it’s popular and even fun (in a childish way), to judge and criticize. It seems rational, harmless and natural to do so. And in this day and age where it’s so much simpler to blame others for our own insecurities and failures, being an armchair critic can be a veiled form of protection from ourselves; for the responsibility of not taking action, for not taking the risks associated with following our dreams. Having a cynical and disparaging attitude is also a very easy (and weak) way of demonstrating our so called superiority and knowledge. Unfortunately (or fortunately), what counts is action. We are defined by what we do and how we do it. Even making the most simple piece of art, whether that be a brief piece of music, a drawing or a short performance on stage or in the field, is much more valuable than the criticism lay upon it. It takes the powerful combination of verve and bravery to take this road less traveled.

“When the artist is alive in any person… he becomes an inventive, searching, daring, self-expressing creature. He becomes interesting to other people. He disturbs, upsets, enlightens, and he opens ways for better understanding.” — Robert Henri

Each day as a creative, I try to do my best just like all the rest of us. We work hard to create something new, we put our backs and hearts into it. No one deliberately makes “bad” art. No performer aims to fail or displease. It takes a kind of courage and nobility to do art because art appears to offer no pragmatic purpose; in the public’s eye, art serves only the artist’s ego. How many times have we heard that the artist is a “selfish” being? Society forgets that it’s the artist’s spirit that brings joy, beauty and realization to this world. Without visual art, music, theatre, writing or even sports —all of which are categorized as mere “entertainment” — the world would be bland beyond belief, with neither an appreciation of the present nor a sense for the future. It’s not surprising that the paying public is primarily obsessed with the established art of the past — it fails to accept and see what’s directly in front of them. It needs to be told what’s good and what’s not. But it is art, in fact, that teaches. It instructs us on how the world works and how to live by showing us how to see. Creativity is the ultimate act of living. Nature demonstrates its creativity each and every second with its continual birth of living things. Us artists are merely trying to do the same.

The late and brilliant Robin Williams stars as the inspiring English teacher John Keating in Peter Weir’s marvelous film, Dead Poets Society.

“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” ― Sylvia Plath

More often than not, we are our own worst critic, the primogenitor of judgement. Art is so responsive, so reflective, it’s hard to not see every flaw in our work and, more alarmingly, within ourselves. That is its power — we can learn more about who we are from our own work than from most anything else. At the same time however, we must be careful in the presence of such magic and veracity. A young or growing artist is not always ready to maturely handle such powerful truths which can be easily misinterpreted as damning indictments; it is all to easy to get too down on ourselves when witnessing our own inadequacies. To properly deal with our inability to perform requires time and reflection — to stand back and respond with calm and insight. Hence the importance of teachers and mentors who can keep us on that straight and narrow path (of not losing our mind or spirit). And sometimes, artists have to be their own greatest cheerleaders because, since the day we were born, we’re always dealing with loneliness.

“Dreams have only one owner at a time. That’s why dreamers are lonely.” — Erma Bombeck

As creatives, we have to battle each day with our mental, emotional and financial insecurity in order to proceed. This is just to get by, to survive. Throughout history, the world has been unkind to artists, lauding them only after official critical and financial success. It’s all much simpler to jump on the bandwagon of a “winner.” But should art be viewed in terms of winning or losing? Is that how we should define the value of our efforts? I think not. Because each creative act is built upon the foundation of many smaller creative acts such as planning, experimentation, practice and physical dedication — and it is physical because making and doing are not mere mental activities. Conception and inspiration may come first, but dreams stay dreams when they are not acted upon in the physical universe. Artists bring things into existence where there once was none.

“Imagine a world in which there is no time. Only images.” ― Alan Lightman, Einstein’s Dreams

Marc Chagall’s paintings have a dreamy magic to them. They are filled with love, playfulness and joy. This painting is now perceived to be the inspiration that gave birth to the theme of “The Fiddler On The Roof” which is now one of most famous and beloved musicals of our time.

Hence, we cannot judge the success of our work or our lives by anyone’s opinion — and especially so if it’s particularly denigrating. An artist’s work is continual. We have to trust that this endless imaginative process has no choice but to reveal itself in the most honest and beautiful fashion. Because it’s all process. And in such a process, there is no room for invasive criticism or judgement. So why spend any of our time engaging in it? Our energy is best saved for making dreams come true.

“(There is) No end, no conclusion, no completion. (Only) Perpetual becoming.” — Henry Miller