An Audacity Evaluation

When I started this blog post, I had recently been tasked with writing an “Original Oratory” speech for a class, and I chose the topic: “Audacity”.

This post was initially going to contain my process of brainstorming for that speech, but the semester is now over and I’ve both written and performed the speech. So instead, here is the speech, and afterwards, some relevant thoughts and takeaways.

“I dare you to commit a crime..
But before you do, let me clarify:
I don’t want you to participate in any illegal activities. I want you to do something you feel is socially illegal. Like, compliment someone you wouldn’t normally associate with, say no to an activity so you can catch up on schoolwork, be respectful and attentive during an extremely boring convocation, or, my personal favorite: wear out-of-the-ordinary clothes like neon and sweater vests.
As some unknown, probably important person said: “Audacity is the key to greatness. Without it you’re just… average.” Don’t go commiting crimes, but do go doing things others won’t. It’s how you can make a difference.

With that said, I think audacity is the skill of standing out. It’s not that people learn it, but more often that we lose it as aging brings on the pressures of social lives. We all know of children that have the audacity to draw a scribble with a crayon and call it a “dinosaur” and then go around showing it to everyone like it’s olympic gold. They aren’t ashamed of their hard work, and love to share it.

We lose that audacity when we learn that things are “wrong”. Someone… at some point… tells you that your scribble doesn’t look anything like a dinosaur. They tell you your hard work isn’t as hard worked as someone else’s. You find out that someone will always be better than you at… whatever, and it devastates you. We learn to hold back because all of a sudden we care more about other people’s approval than we do our own enjoyment.

First and foremost in our older lives is that loss of social audacity. Often it’s for the better, preventing us from making unnecessary scenes in public places, and saying things we may later regret. But the lack also crushes creativity. It stops us from doing new things- things that could improve the world. Because we are too scared to fail. We’re too scared someone might laugh. If comedians can admired for anything- it’s just that. They make careers out of their social audacity.

However, you can be socially audacious and still a quiet person. Audacity doesn’t always correlate with loudness. What it does mean though, is that a sure belief will overcome any fear of being the center of attention. For example: if an audacious person wants to stand for something, like how amazing cardboard is, or how great the game bananagrams is, or how cargo pants are the superior pants, they will stand for it, and be unashamed of doing so. Think: each audacious person is running their own ad campaign instead of buying into any of mass media’s.

I would love to meet Robert Rauschenberg. Or rather, I would love to meet anybody who has the audacity to become famous for a blank canvas. So many people have such strong feelings against what seems like an utter lack of effort. But Robert was bold enough not to care. He created a piece of art that looked like he didn’t do anything. He accepted the criticism and moved on. He thumbed his nose at convention, per say, by challenging the saying “art is in the eye of the beholder” by making the whole piece up to the beholder.

Audacity in art is apparent in hundreds of ways. Namely, literally any unique art style, since the artist couldn’t possibly know if it would be marketable until trying. Think: Dr. Seuss, Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali. Most well-known artists aren’t well-known because their work fit the standard well, but because it stood out well.
That’s what you have to do: try, and be willing to fail. But NOT willing to give up. The artists were told they would fail. Plenty of times. But did they?

I have a challenge for you: don’t look around at other peoples’ reactions before formulating your own. Don’t let someone tell you your dinosaur isn’t a dinosaur. If you stand out enough, people around you will start to accept that as simply who you are. They’ll start to admire, instead of criticize, your dinosaur because unlike their’s, at least your dinosaur is happy.
There will always be comments. But twisting hate into love is a skill to be mastered. Next time somebody says something less-than-nice to you, say “thank you” right back with a smile in a genuinely nice tone (it doesn’t work with sarcasm or anger). Trust me when I say, even if they don’t change right away, the response will make them think. It may just help them realize how much better compliments are than their usual duche remarks.

Audacity is more than just speech though, it’s also about actions. Having a positive attitude all the time isn’t normal. But it should be. When doing anything, we should do it with a positive attitude. This means: not grumbling about assignments, taking down the laundry with joy, and happily listening to music while doing the dishes. Likewise, instead of cussing out rivals, we should compliment them on their achievements. If we as society put as much energy into loving others as we now do hating others, the change would surpass imagination.

I think we should start with the audacity to wear neon for fun. If someone comments on it, tell them a clean joke, compliment them, make them smile.
We need to stop thinking about other people’s opinions, and start thinking about the positive change we can make on the world if we just go ahead and do it. Audaciously.”

— Joshua Steely 2023

Why I can be Audacious

Events of my childhood led me to understand very early on that I have it good. I am the lucky one. With two loving parents, a full stomach, blessed mind, creative joy, and (I like to think) a decent sense of humor, I really am free of worry. This freedom allows me to stand out.
While some may seek the approval of peers or parents, I know my parents support me no matter what, and my peers will grow past their judgemental ways. Because of my safety net at home, I am able to explore creative endeavors most children and teens wouldn’t risk social wrath attempting. I wrote books, made merchandise, and started a craft club in fifth grade themed around my stuffed animal “Moosey”, and continued it in sixth grade until I moved away for seventh. I moved to a school without double-advanced math, so I was thrust in with the grade above, setting me out as the “smart math kid”, but really I was just a bit more priveledged. I accepted the title, and worked with it. As I’ve had on repeat in my head: “it is what it is”. That title separated me enough to not worry about fitting in- it wasn’t even an option.

By now, I’m really not sure what my peers refer to me as- I’ve tried so many different things. I joined FFA, Science Olympiad, Swimming, Tennis and Girl’s Tennis Managing, Theater, Choir, Academic Super Bowl, Spelling Bowl, the School Art and Writing Publication, and Key Club (and that’s just with my school). I also work at a library and started my own art blog (shocker). Personality-wise I joke at everything and still focus enough to have a perfectionist’s mindset. I’ll correct a teacher but keep a secret, I’ll drive you home but won’t go to the football game, I’ll sing “Let it Go” at the top of my lungs, but prefer to watch the rest of the movie in silence. I’m social but avoid social life. (I have no conclusion for this paragraph because I too am unaware of an singularly accurate descriptor.)

Social Audacity…

…basically means to not give a- (let me reword:) It means to not care what others think. Not to mind if their morals align differently, and to still stand by yours no matter the circumstances. It means to refrain from giving in to social pressures, and to not be afraid of standing out.

In my speech I refer to a crayon-scribbled dinosaur. When we are kids it is so easy to be proud of our hard work. We draw that dinosaur lickety-split and show it off “like it’s olympic gold”, proud as all get-out. But at some point, someone tells us our dinosaur looks weird, should be drawn with a different color, or should be “like this”… and we’re stupid enough to listen to that. Too often people stop trying to improve their dinosaur or be content with their dinosaur, and they start to resent their own dinosaur because of other people’s influence.

To extend the metaphor, people have “dinosaurs” for all kinds of things. Their looks, their actions, and their hobbies, to name a few. Because this is an art blog though, I’m going to address the artsy dinosaur.

The Artsy Dinosaur

While trying not to rant about social media and how it alone kills more dinosaurs than any other source (I can think of)… I’ll say a little about my recent experiences.

I like to think I protect my uniqueness with a firm hand. I hand out business cards without remorse, recently finished releasing a hundred cardboard heads with QR codes into the world, and try to share even my less-than-perfect creations with others somehow. But doubt is still consistent. I mention social media because on the platforms there are incredible artists. and I mean incredible artists. I know I’m capable of a lot, and if I worked as hard as each of them had I could probably do it too… but I can never be as good as all of them at everything. I’ll never do flawless realism graphite and stippling pen work and automaton creations and woodworking and pottery and quilting and crocheting and drawing and metalworking and glass working and and and and and. Never. I can’t do everything. All I can work on is my own dinosaur. Whether it sticks with cardboard, or expands to other sculpture or design or art mediums, is up to the future. There’s no way of knowing what I’ll become. But the attitude I maintain through it all is up to me.

The audacity of my dinosaur is up to me.

Artistic “Style”

All established artists seem to have a distinct “style”… and I really don’t.
I understand it’s something developed over time, but like most things, it probably helps to take a break and evaluate the progress so far every once in a while. Here’s my break:

Moosey

My first point of reference in my art is Moosey: A character based off of my stuffed animal that starred in my later elementary and early middle school years. The details included in the character reflected my age, and were easily replicatable and recognizable for the merchandise I made along with the books.

The takeaway is: the character was based off of my stuffed animal. Any adversaries or partners that joined him in the books… were also stuffed animals of mine. And anything we made in the club tended to be based off of either Moosey or just moose in general.

The Cereal Box Figurines

Again, this large stint of art reflected the resources I had available. I had (and still have) plenty of cereal boxes, and no difficulty obtaining walmart acrylics and brushes. I knew how to make cubes, so I based the figurines off of that, and developed a system that maintained a resemblance throughout each one.

But did I ever make anything completely original? Hardly. Most every piece was either based off of a character from some fandom, a skin from a game, or a person and their outfit in real life. The artistic problem solving was in the way I made them, by simplifying details into the often more basic shapes and fewer colors, but the characters were seldom unique.

Drawing from References

I admire people who can draw purely from memory. I have yet to master that skill. Nearly everything I draw is from a reference.
I saw something on Instagram the other day that inspired me though- it was a man who took a stick and used it like a quill pen. My immediate thought was: “What if he drew the tree the stick came from… with the stick?” Which sent me down the path of “is there something I could take from a house and use it to draw the house?” “What else is there similarly?” Perhaps there is another layer to be added to reference usage that would make the art that much more meaningful.

The thing is… I enjoy drawing from references. When I play Minecraft, everything I tend to build is a translation of something else. For example, I have built pixel-by-pixel animals, one such being the turtle from Minecraft. I just picked blocks that resembled the colors and built it big enough to live inside its shell. I built the Colosseum and bits of Rome to-scale using Google Earth as a constant reference. I built the Library of Congress based on images. I built Cragievar castle. Did I ever really make a unique base? Nope. Because I rather preferred the translation process instead.

I would love to improve my portraiture, and perhaps dabble in caricatures. I love observing the things around me with the close eye of an artist, and look for the beauty in everyday things. Direction may help, but I’m still yet to find my art “style”.

With time though, it might just find me.

A Tentative Return to Social Media

I’m quite hesitant to return to social media due to the exact reasons I left it. However,
I feel with my renewed purpose and new sense of direction, I may be able to more effectively utilize social media to meet that purpose instead of initiate a mind-numbing scroll every time I open the app.

I consider jsteelycr8.com to be a hub for all the going-ons of my art career. It is a comforting central point that I can return to and update at any given time, pruning off or grafting on new branches including YouTube, Twitch, Instagram, Patreon, Fiverr, Etsy (maybe, who knows), or countless others, even those yet to be created in my life thus far. With this central point I can maintain a sort of focus, and therefore make all the branches grow in similar ways. But the branches also serve a vital purpose: to connect new people to the main stalk.
You see, websites are great because of their consitency. You type in the same link (or click the same bookmark) each time, and the website shows you its newest version. Social media sites however, are ever-changing, adding new content and following trends out of control of the user. I can control this website… it just doesn’t advertise itself well (past my business cards and head hunt experiment). This is where social media can pitch in. It will be able to share the things I am putting on my website in ways that people (who don’t frequent my website to see it) see it.

In other words: My opinion on Social Media has not changed. I still believe it to often hinder, rather than encourage young artists because of the incredible work posted by professionals on the site. It too often makes art seem daunting because the viewers don’t see the thousands of hours put into the craft prior to a creator’s sucess. Professionals already did the practice- so we don’t get to see the extreme growth very often. Art should bring an artist joy no matter their skill level and amount of practice. This is why a website is great for me: I can compare inwardly to my thoughts and work, and I can showcase my personal improvement, instead of doubt my abilities.

I can use Social Media to share my joy and creativity, rather than compare myself to others’.

The Idea Box

I highly doubt this concept is new, but it doesn’t have to be for me to use it and make something cool out of it.

What is an “Idea Box”?

It’s a box. With ideas. inside on bits of paper.
More importantly though, it’s a decision-making tool. Here’s my issue it solves:

I have so many random ideas that I write down, that other people suggest, that I see and want to try, and I have so little time. I want to try out all of them. But I can’t. So sometimes I just settle with doing none of them. And that’s no fun. So now I put them in the Idea Box and hope to draw the best one. Even then, it seemed like a waste to spend all my time on these wacky ideas that may never see the light of day. If nobody else sees them, are they really worth anything?

And that is why I am pleased to announce:

I started a YouTube Channel!

Yay. Woo. So unique.

Look, I know everybody and their Mom has a YouTube channel, but are they me? Nope. So therefore, my channel will be inherently unique.
I’m beginning by basing the video style off of the average Adam Savage video in which there is little to no editing, and the majority of the video is him talking to the camera. It’s the kind of video you aren’t engrossed in for the special effects or fast edits, but rather one you put on while doing a mundane task, and can listen to somebody enthusiastically ramble about their new discoveries/old experiences/general ideas and thoughts, and glance over for context at times.

Besides all the dozens of other ideas I have for videos to post, there will be an “Idea Box” series in which I simply take out an idea from a box (I can get creative with seasonal boxes, et. cetera), beit my own, somebody I know’s, or a commenter’s, and I make that idea. I can go through the process of workshopping all the way to finalizing it, however I decide to do so. They will be consistently creative episodes that make their own little show because of their similar roots.

I can’t hesitate…

…when I’m thinking of making a video. Or else I’ll never make it.
The weight of social pressure is immense. If I pause to consider how bad my video editing skills are, and how so many people could do what I’m doing a million times better: I’ll be too scared to try.

This is why I am glad I decided on my purpose. Every time I am scared to record something, I can just restate my purpose to myself and press record. How can I share my God-given joy and creativity with everybody if I don’t try YouTube?

I hope you stick along for the ride as I continue to explore videography and attempt to improve each video,

because boy will this ride be fun.

A post about Purpose

It is human nature to pursue purpose. People dedicate their lives to different things, and do those things well because of intention behind their actions. For example: a person has to have something beyond motivation to choose running as a sport, and be competitive in it.

Our cross country team has a motto this year, and that motto is one word:

“Purpose”

The one word asks exactly what we all look for: the “why?”. In this case: “Why are those crazy cross country members running on a Saturday morning?” In other cases: Why are we competing in a sport? Why are we working overtime? Why are we choosing choice a over choice b? Some of them come with answers, but those answers lead to more questions: Why would we study for a math test? (For the grade, most likely) Why do we want the grade? (To get into a better college and graduate with less debt) Why are we going to college? (To learn) Why are we learning? (To grow) Why are we growing? (To succeed) Why do we want to succeed? (Because it feels a whole lot better than failing.)

Why am I writing this blog post right now? To share.

And that’s what I’ve decided my purpose to be:

My goal is to share my God-given joy and creativity with everybody.

and a purpose really is a goal. a goal for a life.

Life is full of goals, but purpose is a goal full of life.

I would be able to fall asleep feeling accomplished each night if I could point to a moment (or moments) in that day I worked towards my goal. I value joy and creativity above almost anything, so when I share it with others, I share the value God has given me, with them.

Purpose in Art

Great examples of purpose in art are students’ AP portfolios. Primarily because they each have a “guiding question” (a.k.a. a purpose) driving the collection of works. My AP portfolio’s guiding question this year is along the lines of: “How can I twist fairy tales to show how messed up our world really is?” And I have proceeded to make works displaying sadly true depictions and statistics of teen suicide, child trafficking, and drug overdosage with Rapunzel, Little Red Riding Hood, and Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty as the victims (to name a few).

Just as guiding questions streamline portfolios, so does purpose streamline lives.

Moving Forward…

…is the only way we really can move in time, isn’t it.

I’ve taken a new step forward: I’ve recorded a video of myself talking, and posted it.

I was scared even thinking of posting a video on YouTube, and sharing my joy and creativity that way. There are so many nuances to YouTube, and so many rules, and so much editing, and so much software and troubleshooting and and and then I pressed record.
I told myself, “this is a benchmark. It has to be bad so I can improve.” and I went for it.

Too often I try and jump right in and perform perfectly. I’ve been able to do that nearly my whole academic career thanks to an incredible, high-functioning mind. But there are so many more things I can’t be perfect at from the getgo. SO many things. And filming myself is one of those.
So this first video has no editing. No script. No planning. except for a newly discovered purpose and oh, so much excitement to share. Excitement to share my thought.

and while it may still change some day, I can be content now because

I’ve finally defined my purpose.

The Biggest Decision of my Life (so far)

…will be College.

The thought of college (as a high school senior) is one of immense weight and pressure. The source of the pressure is hardly whether or not to attend college, as I fully expect to, but rather where to attend college. 

I have formed two options: 
Option 1 is Indiana Wesleyan University: with its campus close, but not too close to home; one I am very familiar with from my art camp experiences there; with amazing art+design division staff. I would be studying Studio Arts and Human Communications.
Option 2 is Western Michigan University: an out-of-state, large campus with countless opportunities, and a gorgeous city with a new environment to explore and thrive in. I have an idea for a podcast that would be incredible if I were to attend WMU, and the surroundings would surely spark countless more ideas. I would be studying Paper Engineering. 

This blog post is not intended to convince myself through emotion why I should attend IWU, but to add a level of logic and clarity that emotion prevents. 
Indiana Wesleyan is a Christian school, so I would be able to grow my faith and thrive in a Christ-centered environment.
Western Michigan is a secular school, so it would be easy to fall into the traps and temptations inevitably surrounding me. 
Indiana Wesleyan is a small school, with about 2,200 undergrads enrolled. 
Western Michigan is a big school, with about 14,400 undergrads enrolled. 
Both IWU and WMU do not allow tortoises without ESA approval. Which I do not apply for. 

While there are obviously factors, my predicament stems not from which campus is better, or which has more preferable people; those things are easily subjective and bound to change based on circumstance. Rather, it stems from the fundamental question of: Can I make a living with art?  

I understand that less than 30% of college graduates end up working in the field of their degree. I would probably be in the 70% percent who don't if I earned a degree in engineering. I would likely pursue art anyways. The difference being, I would not have had four years to explore and expand my craft in a safe environment such as university. And I would have a backup degree in engineering.

But back to the question:

Can I make a living with Art?

We all have one life to live. And for some reason, senior year has me expecting I can plan mine all out before I even hit eighteen. 

A YouTuber by the name of TangoTek's take on the purpose of life is, "Do everything you can to be happy with the time you have." (All I need to add on is "Love the lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. And love your neighbor as yourself." and it's exactly as I would have it.)

There's no telling what will happen in the coming years. While it is far from ideal, there's a possibility I don't live past college. What would my investment in a future have been worth then? if I didn't enjoy the years leading up to a future that never came? 

While there are plenty of comfortable artists out there, it is well-known as an instable career. For a person like myself who is immensely habitual, and yet enjoys spontaneity to its fullest, the idea is beyond attractive. 

Because of my entrepreneurial experience and creativity, I'm quite sure I would be able to make things work as an artist. And I'd enjoy the ride the whole way. Not the ride to finish a lucrative degree in engineering so I can live a comfortable life. Instead, the bumpy and unsure, but passionate and adventurous, life of an artist.

Things I have truly enjoyed in my life are both service activities (being a part of Key Club, etc.), and creating things. Being "smart", being "competitive", and being "employable" have all meant less to me than serving others and creating new connections, new ideas, and new things out of cardboard. 

So if I am choosing based on what I really love: I choose art and communications. 

If I pursue them at a university level, perhaps I will gain what I am currently lacking to make art a successful career. (And yes, I know success is also subjective). With the gained knowledge, I can at least know where to look for any next steps. 

But first I need to take the next step that’s right in front of me. Is it the right step to study art? The right step to study engineering? I feel more inclined to one than the other… is inclination the most important? or is financial comfort?
I know I would be able to enjoy every day as an artist, so if it falls to a question of passion or stability…

I choose passion.

“It’s Not Her.”

…is a heartbreaking thing to hear after spending so long on a portrait piece. And it’s even worse to know its truth.

The one that Isn't Her

Luckily, just because a final piece is inaccurate to the reference image, it can still look great. 

This was a spontaneous portrait. (Which is crazy to say, what with how perfectly the picture fits on the random piece of cardboard I plucked off the dusty floor of the school’s art room).
I was in class, and burnt out from my portfolio series after completing two, and starting two more, pieces within the first few weeks of school. So I just… started a portrait. And it ended up taking from that Thursday, September 7th, until this Friday, September 15th. Non. stop. Sunday alone I colored that thing for seven or eight hours. It was a blast.

But I wanted it to look exactly like the picture, and I failed to do so. 
I hope to improve.

Portrait drawing is Hard

Portraits are infamous for their difficulty to freehand. Hence, commonly being aided by transfer and tracing techniques to get proper proportions. (I have a newfound respect for the portrait artists of old. I'm lookin' at you, Da Vinci. *not you, Picasso.)

But most things are difficult, if you don't first learn the fundamentals. (Take Calculus without first taking any Algebra, and you'll agree). Proportions are the fundamentals of portraits. However, (my mind especially) wants to draw the nicest line it can, and then wonders why the portrait is inaccurate. Well (obviously) it's because human faces are full of imperfections. That's what generates uniqueness. I would have to perfect the imperfections by ignoring my desire to draw a fun line, and to observe what is really there in front of me. 
Ways to practice include: still life drawing… and obviously more portrait drawing. and really, just drawing things how they are, not how you want them to be. 

Here’s where I put a small disclaimer: This is all very situational.

That jab at Picasso was because his work doesn't apply to accuracy. But that doesn't mean his portraits aren't art, or don't represent the details of faces in a different way. He drew them how he wanted them to look.
I explored caricature art as a possible hobby for a bit, and it is far from accurate portraits. But it does resemble the people another way: exaggeration. They draw them how they think is humorously accurate.

So I give you this: There are the exaggeration of features, and the subtleties of accuracy, and both are used to draw portraits. Either is a fine choice…
(but I want accuracy).

How Drawing People brings you Closer to them.

My aunt recently shared with me a podcast episode from "People I (mostly) Admire" titled episode "110. Drawing from Life (and Death)" with artist Wendy MacNaughton, discussing her book "How to say goodbye".
It was one of, if not the best, podcast episodes I’ve ever listened to. 
While I have yet to read the book discussed (I requested it for my library), I find the bits from their discussion fascinating. They talk of MacNaughton's artist residency at a kind of retirement home, where she drew people in their last stages of life. She might talk with them while she drew, they rarely may ask to draw her simlutaneously, or she simply be with them. But in every case, the drawing was personal.
The smallest amount of research on MacNaughton tells you her mantra: "Pay Attention", (which sounds like one I’m familiar with: “Details man, details.”) which she preaches through most everything she does. These portraits were so personal because she was truly paying attention to the people she was drawing. It brought her closer to the person not only physically, as they were mere feet apart, but emotionally. And she says it can bring you too, closer to anything or anyone in your life. By spending time looking meticulously at each and every detail (without the art result itself mattering) you learn more about something than you would with a thousand passing glances. One such exercise she assigns to the podcast's host and listeners is as follows: Pick an object, get a piece of paper and drawing utensil, and set a timer for five minutes. You are now to draw the object.
But you cannot look down at the paper.

Because the result. doesn't. matter.
What matters is that you pay attention to each detail of what is in front of you. 

I would even extend the challenge to trying this in your mind at a random lull in your day. Try admiring every imperfection of some person or thing that is in front of you. You’d be surprised at how closely you haven’t looked before.

Portraits are a challenge. But they are oh, so worth every minute.

I want a taco truck

…but not for tacos.

I want a taco truck because of the nice shop window, and the abundance of space inside.
I want to convert it into a mobile art studio.

I’ve discussed a similar idea in a previous post. Though it mainly consits of my fear of the vehicle crashing and losing all the supplies housed within. It is still a fear. But maybe with a truck it’s less likely. Maybe.

The idea is that I can have this studio for farmer’s markets, traveling, zoos, and parks. Basically, anywhere there will be people and there could be me to draw them or offer them art.

I’ve had a (non-unique) idea of a free icecream truck before. I would love to (if one day I have excess income or am retired and well-off) run a free icecream truck. Just drive around towns and talk to people, and give them icecream. Even better would be to have one of my kids run it (that is of course, if I ever have kids). This could teach them the blessing of giving, and give them the wonderful customer service experience with none of the anger or frustration.
I would love also to do this idea with art. Just draw fun, free portraits for anybody who’ll spend quality time with me as I draw them. It’d be well worth the time.

Back to the farmer’s market.
Where I used to live we had a massive farmer’s market over the summers. And yes, there were food trucks. Quite similar to the ones that crowd fairgrounds (I guess having it at a fairground isn’t a bad idea either…). In this hopefully-not-so-far-off-world I would be able to roll up in my little art truck to the market, and it’d be all set up. So conveniently. Far superior to setting up and tearing down tents and tables each day.

Also at zoos, and parks, and venues. Anywhere I could make people happy with a bit o’ art, I could do so from my little truck.

I think it’s a great idea.

Creativity > Efficiency

Several months back, I bought a plush figure of Zedaph. People buy plushies all the time to support or remember their favorite entertainment providers on YouTube, but this one has a greater meaning to me.

Zedaph is a Minecraft content creator (which is how I was introduced to his style of content) but he isn’t at all like your average Minecrafter.
Your average mincraft content creator explores massive areas, collects resources excessively, and builds extraordinarily large projects and over-efficient farms.
Zedaph makes the wackiest contraptions anyone can think up, and completes the most obscure challenges in the game. He doesn’t focus on “grinding” (that is, making massive amounts of satisfying progress) but rather, having fun. He collects what he needs for his contraptions and challenges, but then enjoys completing the creative challenges instead of getting all the “best gear” and making the best farms.

The Zedaph plush to me represents creativity over efficiency, and that having the best things isn’t always the most enjoyable. Sometimes you just have to be a bit wacky to have a good time.

The Tipping Point (by Malcolm Gladwell)

Nope- this is not suddenly a book review website. But, I have read Malcolm Gladwell’s “The Tipping Point” and quite enjoyed it. While it mostly covers other things, I feel its concepts also apply to this summer. Especially for my art.

The IWU art camp turned. me. around. And I believe in a better direction.
Shortly before the camp I stopped playing Minecraft. Now when I say “stopped” I mean suddenly I wasn’t averaging 6 hours a day of playtime. I was playing maybe an hour a week.
Now here’s an important note: Minecraft is hardly a mindless game. There is massive potential for incredible organization and true feelings of community and accomplishment. And I was part of a lucky group that has all that. My only issue was a decision I needed to make. I could either invest time and effort into the Minecraft universe… or I could invest time and effort into myself and those around me. Once I phrased it that way… the decision wasn’t hard at all.
People are very capable of doing both, of course. However, I am not one of those people. Those people carry one life: one in which they play Minecraft first, and do other things second. I was always leading two lives. One of art and one of Minecraft. I was never fully invested into either.

But now.

Instead of jumping into Minecraft, I can jump into art. Physical, tactile, messy, and plain fun art.
I was making things relatively often alongside Minecraft, but not nearly to the scale of this past month.
I’ve drawn more. I’ve sculpted more. I’ve painted more. I’ve even written more.

Gladwell’s book - if anything - clarifies that a tipping point is far from a single occurence, so I know the art camp wasn’t the only thing that turned me around. It’s a buildup that suddenly spills over. Picture this:
You’re filling a bucket with water. It doesn’t suddenly spill over once you turn on the faucet. It fills up slowly with low water pressure from a sink. It fills up quickly with high water pressure from a hose. Some buckets are larger and some buckets are smaller. But all of them have a tipping point if the water keeps coming.

I may never know what every droplet that contributed to my tipping point was. But the newly found time from dropping Minecraft, and the rejuvinated creativity and drive from the art camp surely helped create the excited, art-filled, new me.