Today I added this piece “Self Kindness” to my Instagram Feed. Sharing it, not knowing what response I may receive, if any, made me think of a storyboard on Instagram by Pascal Campion (an artist and storyteller with a long list of artistic accomplishments and a large online following, including me) I recently saw which expressed a common truth about being a creative in a digital world (and even more broadly, about being a human and the need to feel seen and heard). Since I ran across his work several months ago, I have enjoyed his honest expressions of life’s moments with his skillfully simple, personal, and expressive illustration style. And I, at this moment in time, am glad to take a moment and reflect on his recent post.
He shared a storyboard of him and his cat on a walk in the woods. His first question to his cat (which also spoke to me as someone who often asks my cat life’s most important questions) was: “Should we continue making stories that no one reads?” Because life as an artist, especially on the internet, can often feel unseen - even when it’s obviously not true, as the cat simply and honestly points out, “Some people read them.”
Later the narrator also states something that hits home for me as well, “Art needs to evolve”. To me, that defines the struggle of an artist. If we are not continually striving to create something new, to tell a new story, find a new way to share a thought or idea - then are we truly creating art? As I try to push my own artwork further with materials, ideas, and methods (such as with this new self-portrait post), I often feel like I’m on some giant hamster wheel going nowhere, even more unseen and unheard - compounding this feeling of sharing my art into a void.
It was comforting to see someone with such a large following struggling with insecurities and questions - the same as someone like me, with a much smaller audience. Because it’s true. If you’ve ever shared an image or idea online, you probably also know this to be true. Sharing work online often feels like taking a walk with the house cat and talking to nobody but yourself, across a vast snowy field of no response - even when it’s demonstrably not true.
Hello?
Do you like my art?
(crickets)
Indeed - cats are the winners of the Internet interaction game, and somehow they know it to be true.
Here’s a picture of my cat.
(oh - hello! There you are!)
On top of that - I, like many creatives, can be extremely insecure about my work. Even though I may counsel new artists about being brave with sharing artwork and learning to use feedback wisely (and sometimes sparingly) - I still face the same demons when putting a new piece out into the world.
Do you like my work?
Do you like me?
Because, yes, sharing art feels like asking for approval - of the art and of self.
Sharing art is personal because the art IS personal.
And it’s not just that my art is personal - it’s the rawest, most intimate part of me. And when it’s not - well, quite honestly, it usually isn’t my best work. It’s the art that captures life in the moment that is the most moving - be it the beauty around us, the emotions within us, or the expressions of the world through our particular lens.
Creating and sharing a piece of art is like opening up my diary for the whole world to see. I see, think, process, dream, and create with a language of visual imagery. It’s why words often escape me. Why I won’t remember the title of a book, but I’ll remember the cover art in detail. I remember the visual scenes created in my mind from reading, but not the exact words. I memorize piano music based on the visual memory of where the measure was located on the page. I translate everything to imagery. My art is the visual journal of my life, and I can tell you the time and place as well as my emotional state of where each piece was created.
And so, just overcoming the anxiety and surviving the process of continually sharing my art even when it’s in the rawest, most personal, untested forms, is an accomplishment.
Let me repeat that again, in case I mentally left the room and didn’t pay attention.
Being willing to share the art is an accomplishment of its own.
And it doesn’t help, that when we share online, we also see online. It’s easy to dwarf your own story and accomplishments with the many amazing stories being told everywhere - for there are SO MANY brilliant artists and people out there sharing what they do. It’s inspiring. Overwhelming. And can feel… daunting.
(Here are just a few examples of the stunning beauty and brilliance out there that recently crossed my visual path.)
It’s easy to forget, but important to remember: Each piece being made, each story being told, is beautiful in its own way because of the journey it has made to reveal itself in this little stolen moment in time - shared to all, seen by some, and held true by the artist who willingly opened their heart and posted it.
So, if you have a moment, as you post your story, share your art, and enjoy the stories of others - remember to stop as you scroll through the abundance of imagery, as you ponder in wonder
“like” what speaks to you
share your thoughts and reactions
and then, even better,
find someone to walk with you in conversation - giving new life to the moment and new inspiration to you and to the artist who made it possible.
As for myself, today I’ll be following Mr. Campion’s lead - out on a mental walk with my cat trying to understand and unravel the direction of my art, letting “Self Kindness” be my guide. Though my latest art isn’t my usual art style or subject matter, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you can see a little bit of my story while considering your own story, well-being, and journey as well.
And as his storyboard of the human and cat conversation continues… it ends with “I like how you think kitty cat.”
Yes, me too.