When someone believes in you . . . (Part I)

As a junior in high school, I knew I wanted to be an artist. I gathered my random drawings and doodles and applied to Art Center College of Design. I received a four-semester full tuition at their illustration department. During the rest of my high school years, my mother was diagnosed with cancer, my father was laid off from his office job due to work politics, and my sister developed manic depression. So when I finished senior year and couldn’t afford to continue at Art Center, I took on two jobs and schooled myself through city college while helping to pay the bills at home. The first semester of junior college, I took painting, acting, and dance classes. To this day, that was one of the most memorable years. As I immersed myself at my jobs and academics, I slowly lost track of my direction. My parents, though well-meaning in their quest for our family’s survival, told me to “stop dreaming,” that “art was just a hobby,” and “it won’t pay the bills.” They told me that even if an artist were even able to “make it,” it would be because they started out already really, really good, that they had talent and had wanted it since at a very young age. Since I didn’t express my interest in art until high school, I believed them: I believed that whatever passion I had for art, was not enough to begin with. I didn’t show an overwhelming promise. I didn’t start early enough, I thought. They took me aside and looked at me with pleading eyes, “You don’t really want to go into art now, do you?” I was confused. I nodded. I would forever regret my own collusion and betrayal.

I doubled my focus on work and academics and found that I loved Literature. In my last year of English class at city college, my teacher Ms. Allison Murray assigned the class to write personal essays based on the UC school application themes. It was a required final essay to pass the class. I turned mine in, not expecting much. “You should actually apply to the UC with this essay, “ she confronted me in the hallway. I thought of my entire extended family, most of who never finished beyond junior high. I thought of my mother who finished her masters in engineering, whose degree wasn’t recognized in the US, who worked at Gatorade bottling juice and vacuumed offices as a janitor, and my Dad who would glue little tabs unto A frames so when people had displays at stores, these A frames would stand properly. At that time, I worked two jobs and didn’t even pass the ESL test even though I grew up in the US, there was no way a four-year college was possible for me. For the next two weeks, Ms. Murray pestered me, emailed me, called me, “Did you turn in your essay and application to the UC?” The answer was always the same, “I’ll think about it.” Seeing my mother worried about bills at night by the kitchen light, my father pulling double work shifts, and my sister struggling through her own school, I didn’t think I had a right to apply.

I prepared myself to disappoint Ms.Murray by telling her I wasn’t going to apply after all. After class, I took my time to leave, hoping to talk to her alone. She said goodbye to the students leaving and our gaze met, her eyes narrowed, her voice quieted and slowed with intensity she said, “You.Can.Do.This.”

I thought about why it was I was drawn to art and literature in the first place and even though it was hard to pursue, why I wanted to continue: I wanted to find the key to myself and I wanted to express myself through art and writing. I also wanted to encourage others to climb their own mountains and grab a hold of their own individual keys. I turned in my essay to the UC system. In the spring, I was accepted to all of the five schools I applied for: Berkeley, UCLA, Irvine, Santa Cruz, and San Diego.

When someone believes in you, it is the greatest selfless love that one can give.

Has someone believed in you and made a lasting impact on your life? Be sure to thank them and let them know how you’re doing!

I have many people to thank in my creative and self-discovery journey (Rick, Martha, Carlos to name a few) and they all deserve their own post and recognition.  So please stayed tuned for Part II of “When Someone Believes in You . . . “

How to Solve the Problem of "The Starving Artist"

"Is it a guarantee?" people have asked me, "if I work hard and become an artist, is it a guarantee that I'll make it?" Most people want to hear the answer "Yes, just stick to your studies and you'll be okay. You'll graduate school and find a good job and they'll take care of you for a long time." This is the old way of thinking. The answer is: Only you will know. Only you can determine that answer. Nothing is ever a guarantee (Not even for the lawyers). So is it still worth it for you to pursue it even if you can't predict the outcome? I hope so. It is for both Monkey and Seal.

Often as artists we grapple with a lack of abundance. We think, "jobs are limited and we are beaten by artists younger than us." What is hard to understand is that we become the very image of the "starving artist" NOT because it is the "ultimate truth" or "expected result" of being an artist, but because there is still yet not enough institutional, community support, and resources for the artist. AND we haven't switched our minds from being reactive to society to that of self-determined action. We hope things will fall in our laps, rather than taking action and going for them.

Five years ago, there were barely any books written about the career track of a successful modern-day artist (still very few now). Many older veterans will tell you they simply worked hard and were lucky to have "moved up the ladder." A lot of the Studio Gibli/ Miyazaki artists over 40-50 years old had little or no prior background in animation, they were simply taken under the wings of older mentors. Most have had to carve their own path and learn through others. Many alumni networks exists for ivy-league schools and academia studies for lawyers and doctors, yet only recently are art schools reproducing that format. So although there are internships out there, career help from art schools, this is still an old way of thinking - this is only ONE OF MANY PATHS to become a successful artist.

There is no clear blueprint. No ten-year "proven" track of academia, residency, and practice. Most artist graduates will probably tell you, that their path afterward was wide and unpredictable. Both Monkey and Seal have worked at various jobs: retail, web designer, graphic designer, t-shirt printing, tutor, UI icon artist, logo designer, marketing agent, illustrator, fine arts painter, concept artist, animator, fashion designer, etc.

It is part of the frustration and simultaneous beauty of being an artist: it is a flexible field and having learned the basics, you can do cross-jobs and apply your foundations in any related field.

Enjoy the times when you are struggling. Because this is the time for your to experiment and find your voice. Which field calls out to you more? What should you specialize in, if any? What style and mediums best suit the stories you would like to tell most?

"But I'm sick of being poor," cries the fledgling artist, "give me stardom, give me riches." No one denies that it would be nice not to worry about income and to continually have clients bid for your art. Yet at the same time, shouldn't we enjoy our creativity, our time, and our lives as it currently is? With all its thorns and roses? And shouldn't we walk the path in our own pace and find the beauty of our art through self-discovery? And reach stardom and riches when our artist identities are solidified that it can take on the masses? (Is stardom and riches your ultimate goal? Or is it creative freedom, financial rewards, and being respected by your peers?)

The great composer Stravinsky complained, "I cannot compose what they want from me, which would be to repeat myself. That is the way people write themselves out."

I am not an advocate of masochism. I do NOT believe that "you have to suffer first as a starving artist before you make your big break." I do believe that you can be successful AT ANY TIME YOU CHOOSE. But before you choose stardom, make sure your heart is at ease, then you will be able to continue to create art however you please, without giving in to the pressures of your future fans. Do not choose wealth and fame as an artist out of desperation (I'll make anything you ask of me, just give me money or I'll trade this life of an artist, for anything, anything at all) or avoidance of your responsibility as an artist (Now that I have money, I don't have to make art anymore! or Now that I have fame, it doesn't matter what I paint, people will pay me for it anyways). But choose wealth and fame to further your art, you voice, and your experiences in life.

So in the meantime, enjoy it now. Enjoy the time you are able to experiment, when you live and create and amuse yourself only and not the mass. Enjoy not having the track record to live up to, but to toot and play your own horn, while walking through life to your own drumbeats. And when the time comes, enjoy that too!

And remember, the quickest path directly to your dreams is to do more of what you love.