Life, Love, and Comics. Part V: The Three Rules

Life, Love, and Comics. Part V: The Three Rules

At long last, I get to the conclusion of this little blog series about Life, Love, and Comics. Many years ago, Before I really started putting much thought into any of this mumbo-jumbo, I had an epiphany. While working out some sketches for some ideas I wanted illustrate, and seeing how uninspired and unimaginative the sketches were looking, a thought hit me, so simple yet profoundly true, about how I should approach doing my artwork. I quickly wrote down three rules, and since that day, they’ve been taped to the side of my computer monitor, staring back at me.

For much of this blog series, I’ve been waxing philosophical about how to think and act like a professional, how to maintain joy for your work by finding balance, and also how to over come fear and resistance to exposure. But all that stemmed from these three rules, 3 fairly basic concepts that I believe have helped keep me honest when producing artwork. They are as such:

1) Does it Kick Ass?

Simple. When thinking about constructing a composition or plotting out a story or drafting up concepts for characters, keep this 1 question at the forefront of your mind: Does it kick ass? Put another way, is what you're working on hitting all the highest marks it can? Is it entertaining, beautiful, exciting, respectable? Is this the best I can do?

Just what kicks ass to you is a matter of perspective, but the point is to break free from just doing something uninspired or unimaginative. Sometimes, especially if you’re working commercially or on a tight deadline, you may not get the luxury of thinking too hard about it. But even then, during a draft stage of project, your intention should be able to be summed up simply as “this should kick ass”. If you need help getting ideas, look around for inspiration. Look for examples of how other’s artwork achieved this quality “kicks ass” and where and how. This may also require you to embrace completely random and impulsive sketching or writing, something that draws you out of a repetitive safety zone and gets you thinking fast. Or, it could mean shelving a project for days, weeks, even months, in order to give your mind time to unlock from thinking too hard about it, and then come back to it with a fresh pair of eyes and see just how its not exciting or interesting. Sometimes, it simply means taking all the hard work you may have put into something and tossing it all out and starting from scratch.

Essentially, what you’re aiming to do with this first rule is ask the first real honest question of yourself and what you’re attempting to do with your Craft. It’s also a way for you to be the first point of critical evaluation for your work. Because when others see your work, the first thing you want them to think when they see your artwork is “this KICKS ASS.”

The Future is Stupid, by artist Jenny Holzer.

2) Don’t disrespect your audience.

Put another way, “Don’t UNDERESTIMATE your audience”. This one might not make a lot of sense, but its a fundamental concept to confront because it can be the first excuse and falsehood you erect for yourself in order to justify laziness. If you think your work is kicking ass, then it should objectively kick ass. Its not that you want to only make artwork that is appealing to people, but that it can be appreciated for its quality and craft, even if the subject matter isn’t to their taste.

What you don’t want to do is try to justify artwork that isn't good by simply assuming the viewer doesn't “get it”? This is disrespecting your audience. You know how there’s artwork out there that looks ridiculous and stupid, like someone just blew their nose into a tissue and partially set it on fire and then put it on a gold pedestal, and then attached some art-wank description next to it that explains its some kind of commentary about poverty and class and sexuality and whatever and how its essentially impossible to understand it without the art-wank explanation? And you know how you thought “…that’s stupid”? Yeah. Don’t disrespect your viewer. Be objectively good at your craft, and don’t side step legitimacy with art-wank excuses. Conceptual art can get away with this kind of crap because…well, that’s kind of what its all about, being smart and stupid at the same time. But if you’re like me, and the rest of the hard working artists in this world, your artwork probably has limitations, like being visual, or audio, or narrative, and in this way, you have to communicate effectively with limitations. Art-wank is an excuse used by ass holes who think they don’t need to justify why their artwork isn’t objectively good. DON’T be an ass hole. Be an honest artist.

When I say “don't disrespect the viewer”, I certainly don't mean avoid making controversial or challenging artwork that some people wont like. Producing challenging artwork also means you have to challenge yourself. But producing insulting artwork is much different. I also don't set out with an intention to have my artwork be appreciated by everyone. I recognise that I can’t please everyone with my art, nor do I want to. Fundamentally, I want my artwork to be respected, and real respect and legitimacy doesn’t come from saying so yourself, it comes from others saying so. In order to achieve that, your audience has to be able to “get” what your communicating with your artwork.

“The Atlas” by Michelangelo. One of his “non-finito” sculptures intentionally left undone to represent the human struggle to be freed from the material. Sometimes, perfect isn’t always perfect.

3) Stand by your artwork.

Finally, if you’ve managed your way through the first 2 rules, you must lastly come to a position where you can stand by your work. This is where you get to take a nice, long look at your work and think “ I challenged myself, I didn't create anything I think of as crap, and though it may not be appreciated by everyone, it is objectively awesome”. This is where you “let go” of your artwork. And if you’ve done the best you can with your craft, then it needs no further explanation or excuses.

At a certain point, your artwork must be able to defend itself, for better or worse. Really, you must learn to love and appreciate your work, and be able to accept it at a certain point as DONE. No matter what kind of artwork you do with your craft, the result of your work will outlive you. It becomes a monument that will or will NOT stand up to the scrutiny of time. It can be terrifying to finally let go of something as “finished” and have that be it. But until you’re able to accept it for what it is, you may get caught chasing an illusion that its “just not yet perfect.”

But that’s fine. Nothing is perfect. That’s also the point. When you get to a point where you’ve simply done the best you can with intention and skill of choice, then accept it, for better or worse. Opinions and interpretations of art will change over time, along with fashion and culture. This is inevitable. More so, this is also where you have to accept yourself as an artist and your craft for what it is. You can strive to improve at your craft all your life, and indeed you should, but through all that time, each incremental step towards success is made by accepting the work you do as yours, perfect or not. That’s life. Flaws and all.

The above title image is a sculpture, “The Atlas”, by the famous renaissance artist Michelangelo, in the style he called “non-finito”. Its largely believed that “the artist deliberately left them incomplete to represent the eternal struggle of human beings to free themselves from their material trappings.” So, despite being unfinished, they still represent intention and aspiration for perfection, but ultimately unattainable. Accepting that in yourself is the best you can do.

And that’s that. Thanks for reading these posts, hopefully they’ve imparted some insight and wisdom. If not, well, like I said, nothing’s perfect. Now… back to work.

Exciting News for 2020 (all things considered...)

Exciting News for 2020 (all things considered...)

Life, Love, and Comics. Part IV: Critical Evaluation and the Illusion of Perfection.

Life, Love, and Comics. Part IV: Critical Evaluation and the Illusion of Perfection.