Protecting Our Vision

Photograph by Erik Ness

Usually, what we do to improve our creative skills is beneficial. We grow. We learn. We feel energized and our works become infused with it all. However, there are times when the effort to improve seems almost harmful; not focused on creating to our own vision, but how well it meets the mark and vision of someone else.

It begins with seeking value judgments outside of ourselves as proof to ourselves that our work is worthwhile; that our passion and that we are worthwhile. We tend to forget that just being alive makes us exceptional and that the ability to create and have passions is extraordinary! We tend to forget, too, that an assessment of our work has nothing to do with our personal worth. Add to this a penchant for commerce (whether our intention is to make money or not), and we have instant rational supporting our inclination to judge our work through:

• Another’s work. For example, a piece we aspire to emulate.
• Approval from someone we respect.
• A grade or a specific price for our work.
• A win/award in a contest.
• A contract (with a client, a magazine, a gallery, etc.)

Then, the problem worsens as we give more weight to these external opinions (and rewards) than we grant to our own vision. Finally, we let these assessments move us to alter our skill set — under the guise of improving it — so that we may meet some arbitrary, external mark rather than the design established by our own heart. The harm arises when the yardstick we used to evaluate our work turns inward, damaging our own self-worth.

However, appraisals of our creative artifacts (e.g., photographs, journals, paintings, etc.) are subjective and limited. These valuations are narrow versions of truth and cannot take into account the creator’s vision. Further, how do you account for mass appeal, trending (up and down), and changing tastes? Just because a creative piece is held in high critical acclaim doesn’t mean that its value is greater than another piece that is not held up in the same way. Indeed, the second piece may be ahead of its time, with the set of critics that will love it just entering preschool. The assessments themselves are of minimal value and certainly have nothing to do with our personal worth.

But let’s back up a moment. Studying technique, process, and even copying others to learn how to do something is a good practice. Being financially rewarded and receiving accolades isn’t a bad thing either. It’s not what or how we learn, nor the rewards we get from it that harm us. It’s what we practice in combination with our intentions that leads to heartbreak. If our intention is to recreate — rather than create truth through — a thing, practicing under the vision of another is both expected and fulfilling. If, however, our intention is to share our vision — our truth — with others, practicing in (or using) a voice that’s not our own will dissatisfy us at some point. Further, when we carry out our practice this way, we move our skills in a direction that may not align with our own vision (we can’t be sure), potentially moving us away from our creative intention. How frustrating that can be!

Protecting our vision (and creative soul) from injury begins with the following question:

Do I intend to create my truth or recreate the truth of another?

The answer is neither good nor bad, but it is key to our next steps. For example, if I’m recreating the truth of another, then the product of my actions is known and measured externally. Therefore, it’s likely that completion will bring satisfaction. The quality of my achievement will be easy to assess though a comparison of my completed project to the model project — whether or not I was motivated by the desire to learn and improve my skill set.

Following the answer to our question, is perspective. If I intend to create my truth and place my vision at risk, an essential perspective is that all else is secondary. That is, the rewards and accolades mean much less than my goal to craft and share my vision. Likewise, improving my craft (or, honing my skills) is specifically tailored to creating the truth of my vision in a way that is accessible (because I want to share it). The quality or value of my work requires a balanced look at my process and my outcome together. Further, the primary assessment comes from within — all other evaluations are subverted by my own. Granted, since my desire is to share, I do care about whether the message was delivered successfully. Do others get the point? If yes, then I’ve been successful in my delivery. It doesn’t matter whether they like it, agree with me, or will pay for my message. I am creating truth and all else is secondary.What a great song for our vision and heart!