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Introduction

“My only concern about art collaborations is that I never thought of myself as an artist.”

Sufjan Stevens*
(Singer-songwriter, Carrie & Lowell, Illinois, Michigan)

“I still feel weird about saying that I’m an artist, just because people assume that you’re well-off or you’re taken care of, and you don’t actually have a job.”

Emma Kohlmann^†
(Visual artist)

“I identify myself as a sculptor, but at the passport desk I put ‘artist.’”

Matthew Barney^*
(Multimedia artist, creator of the Cremaster Cycle)

You may not think of yourself as an artist, and that’s fine. Many people I know who could be labeled as “artists” don’t see themselves as artists, either. I’ve spoken to writers, musicians, filmmakers, dancers, visual artists, and the like who see what they do as work, and when they create, they’re simply working—they save the word “artist” for their taxes, passport forms, and polite cocktail conversations.

This is a legitimate way to view making things. The majority of people doing creative work don’t make a living from it (or any money at all), so it’s important to create for the sake and love of creating in and of itself. This way, even if nobody but you knows that you get up early or go to bed late to finish your project, you keep on going.

I’ve had a day job my whole life. While it hasn’t always been easy, I’ve always managed to find the time to create. I’ve never been a full-time artist, though. Does this mean I’m not an artist? I don’t think so.

Making Time for What Matters

There are countless creative people who work part-time or behind the scenes, people you’ll never see mentioned on the front pages who’ve contributed to films, books, art exhibitions, and theater pieces. Not everyone gets the glory or notoriety, but the work they do is still essential (and creative).

I’ve put on shows at dozens of venues, facilitated tours for the musicians I manage, and organized art and music events at places like MoMA PS1, the New Museum, the Hirshhorn Museum, and the Broad Museum, but I haven’t always seen my name affixed to a write-up or article. That’s OK. I know what I put into it and can feel proud that it made it out into the world, and that’s enough for me.

In fact, a large part of my creative output is about bringing ideas and people together. I’m a collaborator, and a firm believer in the act of collaboration, and I’m not strictly a maker of things. I see this book as a collaboration with you because without your input, it’s incomplete.

Let’s start our project together here by having you answer a few questions about your own creative impulses in the space provided.

• What does the word “artist” mean to you? What kind of image does it conjure?

• Do you consider yourself an artist? If not, why? If so, what kind of an artist?

• What’s your passion project? I mean, what do you do outside of your normal day job or responsibilities? (Or, what is it you find yourself wanting to dedicate time to even if it doesn’t pay the bills, or pay anything at all?)

• Do you find yourself gravitating to a specific area of creativity? What do you have a knack for, or what seems to come easy to you and bring you a sense of fulfillment in the process? (It could be hosting dinner parties, planning trips, fundraising for a cause, starting businesses, etc.)

• If you had to “brand” your specific, unique approach to creativity, what would it be? Write down a word or a phrase or a sentence.

• Write down a hypothetical answer to the question “What do you do?” that doesn’t involve what you do for paid work. What did you write?

Look at your responses to these questions. In your day-to-day life, do you make enough time for this?

Make Time for Creativity is the first volume in a three-part series meant to guide people through different aspects of a creative life. Whether or not you view yourself as an artist, this book (and the series) is for you.

The book looks at different aspects of finding time for your passion project. I divided it into four chapters: Work-Life Balance, Daily Rituals, Intentions and Goals, and Downtime and Creativity. In each section, I discuss my own experiences, while also weaving in advice, revelations, and experiences of different types of working artists, including musicians, authors, filmmakers, dancers, designers, and visual artists. For these, I approached friends and people I’ve collaborated with at one time or another because I wanted the book to feel like a community gathering.

The people who ended up here are not random, and the majority of the quotations came directly from me asking for something very specific to help illuminate the creative process for you, the reader. (The handful of other quotes, like the ones at the start of this introduction, came from previous conversations I’ve had with creative people across a variety of platforms.)

Their quotations then led me to create different prompts about mind-set, goals, ideas, frustrations, triumphs, balance, lack of balance, and staying healthy through these ups and downs. The number of voices allowed me to build an eclectic collection of thoughts for each chapter, giving you the space to see yourself somewhere in the mix and to also see something new.

What’s most important when you’re reflecting on these questions, quotations, and prompts, and writing down your own answers and insights, is finding relevance and inspiration and equal footing for yourself and your own brand of creativity.

Whether you see it like this or not at this point, you’re an artist, too, and what you put into this book is what completes it and is, ultimately, what makes it worthwhile.

Let’s get started.

* Stosuy, Brandon, “It’s Sufjan Stevens’ Way or the Highway,” Interview, November 30, 2009.

† Stosuy, Brandon, “On Becoming Comfortable with the Idea of Being an Artist,” Creative Independent, November 1, 2018.

* Stosuy, Brandon, “An Interview with Matthew Barney,” Believer, January 1, 2007.