Building Momentum

Momentum in a project is always great. It helps pull you along, the fun and easy parts become even more fun and easy, and the hard parts seem no-so bad and they end up being a lot less painful than you initially thought. Riding the momentum feels great, but the problem always lies with finding that momentum in the first place.

In our experiences, momentum seems to come if we're lucky - most of the time you end up trudging along, and then sometimes things get better, sometimes they don't. However, we've found that the secret to constantly gaining momentum is by taking lots of little steps.

Even if what you're doing is sort of painful, like doing an illustration of something you hate for a client that's underpaying you, or having to design your great-aunt's business cards - for free, by taking lots of little steps, you'll eventually find that doing more and more little steps is easier and easier, and before you know it, you'll be done.

Breaking down steps into even smaller steps always helps, as the more tiny little tasks you finish, the more accomplished you feel, and the more momentum you'll build. The key is tiny, tiny tasks. The more painful the project, the smaller the tasks should be. If you're really struggling, you can make the tasks as simple as "get out sketchbook." Next task: "find pencil." Next task: "draw a monster for warm up." Take a break, make getting a beverage of your choice the next task. In this way, you can tell your brain "Hey look, I've already got four things done already! This is easy!"

Don't focus on what you have left to do, but what you've already done. When silk screening large orders of shirts, it's never fun to look at the huge pile of boxes and think, "Wow, I've still got 750 shirts to print." It's way more motivating to say "Wow, I've already printed 250 shirts, and it's still early!"

That said, if you're working on a project you like, still keep the steps in manageable portions. That way it won't go from "fun" to "overwhelming," which is how a lot of our projects can get if we don't make sure we're on top it.

So whether you're working on something you hate or you love, make sure to build momentum by taking small steps and you'll find that you'll finish quicker, have more fun, and you'll be (many) steps closer to taking over the world!

Invincible is Only a Word, The Best is Just a Title

Recently Monkey + Seal have really gotten into reading the manga Vagabond, by Inoue Takehiko. It follows the life story of Miyamoto Musashi, the legendary swordsman who wrote The Book of the Five Rings. It has influenced many of the current mangas (One Piece, Bleach) that we follow now.

Long story short, it's an awesome samurai story, with lots of samurai philosophy mixed in with crazy fight sequences. However, in collection 4, there's a very philosophical part where the protagonist is trying to wrap his head around the idea of the "invincible" swordsman. [Spoiler alert!!] If you're wondering what this has to do with art (besides being an awesome comic), keep reading, and we'll get to it.

So Musashi comes upon a super-tall mountain. He then climbs it barehanded because he "wants to see what's at the top." So while he's climbing this crazy mountain, he analyzes the recent events that have transpired, one of which is meeting an old, reportedly invincible swordsmaster whose sheer presence unnerved Musashi. As Musashi climbs, he tries to figure out what it means to be invincible.

When he finally reaches the peak of the mountain, he can't help but laugh as he finds that at this height he sees that there are many more mountains, and others that are taller than him. He realizes that no matter how high you climb, there are other mountains that are higher, and that "invincible" is just a word.

Some might call it fate, but just as Monkey was reading this, he was having an art crisis. Frustrated that he's not where he wanted to be in art, and that the hard work required was getting weary, Monkey wanted success and fame and to "be the best" immediately.

However, after reading the manga, Monkey realized something. No matter how big, no matter how famous, there's always someone on top. And when you are on the very, very top, there's still your own personal best to vanquish. So, instead of agonizing over "not being there yet," Monkey realized that the point of life is not to immediately and easily crush all competition. The point of life is to enjoy the ride and not to compare oneself or your accomplishments to others. Continue to strive for your own personal best and constantly hone your skill.

When the goal of becoming the world's greatest artist starts to overshadow the fun and wonder of creating art, that's when you need to take a step back and re-evaluate what you're doing. Yes, it's awesome and amazing and cool to get commissioned by a collector, or to land an awesome illustration account, or to win a gold award in the Society of Illustrator's annual. But, if you're not having fun creating the art, then really, what's the point? If the status or money is really what it's about you might as well be a software engineer (or some other high-paying profession) if you're going to hate your job anyway.

Titles are just that, titles. Really, at the end of the day, art should be fun, not a chore. Yes, it's hard work constantly creating, but we've found that studies and experimentation really helps break up the monotony and keeps the art from being a tedious trial to something invigorating and fun. "The Best" is just a title, so stop stressing over it and have some fun!

Take a Break

Recently Monkey got sick. Not incredibly sick, but he had a pounding headache when he got home from his job selling paper and he was feeling a bit warm, and he ended up going to sleep by 7pm, which is a rarity for most people, but even rarer for someone who usually doesn't get to sleep until the 3-5am range.

Monkey was primarily dehydrated, and with a build-up of stress, lack of sleep, and just a case of working too hard for too long, eventually crashed. While he recovered fairly quickly (yay!) it was a harsh wake-up call. Monkey + Seal tend to overwork themselves, and sometimes they need reminders that breaks are a necessary part of life. As much as we might think we need to constantly work night after night, hour after hour (and admittedly, sometimes we do), we don't need to do it endlessly. Working like this is crazy and unsustainable.

If anyone can attest to this, it's Monkey. For many years, Monkey would be constantly almost-sick, where he might not feel good, but he would power through everything and anything. Then, every year, around November, he would get deathly ill. Like 110 degree fever, vomiting, aches, headaches, shakes, chills, congestion, trouble breathing, deathly ill. Then he would be forced to take a week or so on the easy side before he could get up and running again and then the cycle would continue.

These days, Monkey has wised up a bit. He tends to feel colds and such coming on sort of early, and if he take responsible actions he can usually fend it off. Responsible actions generally means laying off the beer, sleeping sort of early (1-2am), and taking some breaks from work.

Basically, Monkey + Seal have learned that breaks are necessary. Breaks help prevent carpel tunnel syndrome, it helps keep your artist muscles from decomposing, it helps you keep your health. While you shouldn't let huge periods of non-work go on in the name of breaks, you should also not let huge periods of work go on without some sort of interruption.

With proper time management, hopefully you won't have to work non-stop. Make sure that you budget in proper breaks and points to rest so you don't wear down your mind and body. Many times, we've also found that when it's 3am and you've been working on painting the same thing over and over again and it's just not coming out right, taking a short rest, or napping for 10 minutes can do a world of good and we've sat back down to paint that same piece nearly immediately. When we were in art school, there had also been many times of us staying up all night painting for an assignment, then when we walk into class we immediately notice all the things wrong with the painting. We would then proceed to whip out our paints and make a few adjustments here and there and suddenly would improve it quite a bit.

So, for the sake of you mind, your body, your health, and your work, take a break!

Be Creative . . . While you Sleep!

Did you know, that when you are asleep, your brain is firing off cells as if it is still awake? Recently, Monkey + Seal were listening to a podcast by Radio Lab about "sleep and dreams". When a rat runs through a maze during the day, when he goes to sleep, his brain is firing off the same information as if he is going through the same maze! Each turn, each jump, everything - his physical and mental experience, the brain recorded it and played it back to-the-dot in his dreams. When the rat ran two different mazes during the day, when he slept, he dreamt of "a mix-and-match" parts of both mazes.

Meaning: when we dream at night, we free-associate and create new meanings from all of the experiences we had ever lived through.

Well, what's this got to do with being an artist you might be thinking? 1.) If we are creating in our sleep, then . . .You can also use your dreams to solve your artistic problems/questions. Write your question at night before you go to bed, "what shall I create tomorrow" or "should I paint that dog blue or red?" "how shall I end this novel?" etc. You'll be surprised. Trust us, it works. Most likely you'll find that an answer is presented to you when you wake up. (Don't forget to write it down!)

So, we use our dreams for creativity, what else? If we repeat the similar experiences of our waking moments even when we are asleep . . .We can solve an even bigger life problem. What if your life experience has been filled with past disappointments, broken dreams, and unfulfilled creativity? Wouldn't you, then, keep playing the same negative record over and over again in your biological cells when you sleep?

Science would say: Yes.

The same would be true if you filled your everyday life with creativity, love, and meaning-making efforts. You would then dream of the same encouraging dose of positive energy.

Seal recently tried this experiment out on herself. And it works. Prior to listening to this podcast, Seal mainly dreamed of harsh critics, being stunted in her art, and of scarcity. Because, unfortunately up until a few years ago, that's all she had ever known. So for the past couple of nights, she decided to give it a try. During the day she painted, whether she was feeling like it or not. She went on adventures, drank pumpkin spiced latte, attended a storytelling performance, filled her life with more creative endeavors. Before she went to bed at night, she would meditate on the positive experiences of the day while breathing deeply. In the morning, when she woke up, she felt immediately the surge to face her easel right away. This is new, since it usually takes several hours for Seal to get out of bed and into creative mode. The new change also allows Seal to have more clarity during the day. She can hear the positive voice getting stronger with each day - that voice that says, "you're enough" and "why don't we try that" or "that could be fun."

Have you ever noted how you feel, the very moment you wake up? Are you filled with energy? Are you ready to create? To face your paper and the easel? Or do you feel sluggish, un-rested, and un-creative? Isn't it then worth it to spend our efforts in making new, creative experiences in order to re-live them in our dreams, in order to feel refreshed and ready for more creativity?

The very second you are "awake" is the moment of a very important decision: will you create today? Will you make meaning today?

MonkeyandSeal hopes you are creative during the day and dreaming of creativity at night. Isn't your dreams worth trying?

Pursuing Your Dream

Monkey + Seal, as you probably know by now, are pursuing their dreams of living their lives as financially successful artists who are able to change the world (for the better) through their art. In the very subjective art world that is usually only interested in sure-sales (after all, who goes into the business to not make money?), this can be difficult.

Most people grow up learning that art doesn't pay the bills, that professions like engineering or medicine or law are the way to go, since they're higher-paying jobs. Acting is too competitive. Dancers don't make money. Artists are always "starving." With such a background, we get asked (and sometimes we ask ourselves) "How do you do it? How do you follow a dream that seems impossible?"

The super-cool, quotable movie-one-liner is "How do you not?" (and then we put on our sunglasses and walk away, with the person asking the question totally dumbfounded and cut scene to us back in the studio painting). In all seriousness though, it's really the honest answer.

To abandon one's dream, to give up what you want to do with your life is an incredibly difficult choice. While we often think that it's not a choice, that it's the safe, responsible, socially-approved way of going about life, it is a choice. It's a choice that goes against your inner you; it defies your core self and is a constant day-to-day battle. If you're unhappy at your job, because you'd rather be doing something else, it's obvious that you're not doing what you really want to be doing, because let us tell you that if you're doing what you love, it doesn't seem like work.

If we hated painting and making art and screenprinting, we wouldn't keep doing it even after working a day job then coming home and doing laundry and cooking dinner and ohwaitwhyisitalready2am and then still deciding to break out the paints. We wouldn't spend three days reworking our webstore, or using our savings to buy t-shirts to print on, or show at craft fairs without sleeping if it wasn't what we really truly loved.

Doing all that stuff, which seems crazy and difficult, is still crazy and difficult, but we do it because in the end, it's working towards our dream. Is it scary at times? Oh most definitely. But what we find more scary than trying and maybe failing is not trying - after all, not trying has a 100% rate of failure.

If we have kids, we never want to force them into following a dream because we never chased it. At the end of the day, failure is okay. Failing is learning what didn't work so you can make it work next time. Failure is more experience. Not trying..well, not trying is nothing to write home about, and that lingering "what if" will always be there, haunting you.

Following your dream is scary, but what is scarier is the thought of growing old and having regrets. When faced with these two options, what will you choose?

Create in the Midst of Chaos

Sometimes life "gets to us." We are always in the midst of chaos, in the middle of "to-do lists," deadlines, and laundry. Yet at the same time, we still MUST create. It is a difficult balance. Most people do not do it. Most people come to four types of conclusion:

1.) They do not create at all. (A terrible tragedy.)
2.) They create sporadically, only when the timing, the mood, the inspiration hits, when all circumstances fall into place. (This is not only very rare, it is also very impractical and you become at the mercy and whim of fate.)
3.) They create, but not very deeply. Just skidding the surface, the potential of the artist you are meant to be. They half-heartedly create. They remain on the outskirts of their skills, and subject matter.
4.) Or They withdraw from life, they break up with their spouses, withdraw from friends, hobbies, any and all pursuit except for art. (This is also very extreme and in the long-run very damaging to your creativity. As all creativity stems for being engaged with life).

Although the above four solutions are possible, very easily doable, they all prevent you from both fully living and fully creating. So how do artists create in the middle of life, in the midst of chaos?

For starters, name what you are "in the middle of."

For example, Seal is in the middle of:
multiple deadlines
physical tiredness
not enough sleep
fear of failure
fear of not finding the right style in her art, etc.
continual freelance
growing pains in her experimental skill sets

Now that you have listed your chaos. How do you plan to continue creating despite of it? You have to find your own answers for that because each answer will be different and personal.

For Seal, art needs to be a priority for her. Her laundry, dishes, and friends wait, until she creates first thing in the morning. Then afterward, she will address her emails and call her friends. She doesn't withdraw from life, but she lets the people closest to her understand that she loves them and at the same time, there will be hours or days before phone calls are returned.

Seal also likes the AA saying, "suit up and show up" regardless of what's going on in your life. Meaning: show up on the page. Paint, draw, doodle - something - regardless of what you're feeling and having to do that day. (acknowledge your feeling "I feel blah, I don't want to paint" but convert it into action, "but I will anyways" "I will create today.")

State you intention and do it! "I will write for 15minutes before I go to work." A novel is made with one word at a time.

Other creative solutions people have come up with is: paying friends to do the laundry for you while you paint.

Quiet the chaos. Center your mind and body and focus on the intention of creating. Most seeming "emergencies" can wait until you create.

Remember to be gentle with yourself, this is a daily practice that gets better each time!

Happy Halloween!

So rather than watch the Giants' game last night, Monkey + Seal took a little break from their art and headed to downtown San Francisco to the Asian Art Museum for their last Matcha event of the year. Matcha is an evening-type event that happens every other month from February-October at the museum, and features a cash bar, entry into their special exhibits (which usually requires a special ticket), and performances and art making activities and other fun stuff.

This was our first Matcha, and at $10, it was definitely a steal. We got there late since Monkey had to work, but we got to breeze through the museum and check out some really awesome art from around Asia. We then caught up with a large group to hear the last story being told by a docent in the gallery.

Then, we hit up the main event of the evening. The amazing storytelling/music duo of Brenda Wong Aoki and Mark Izu (and company). Blending fusion jazz with theatrical storytelling, "Mermaid Meat" was AWESOME. It was really inspiring to see the spoken story being brought to new dimensions by a dramatic telling with the creepy atmospheric hauntings of the music. If you read this in time, they're actually doing what I assume to be a similar show on October 31 at Yoshi's San Francisco.

We then checked out the Beyond Golden Clouds exhibit, which featured a lot of old-skool Japanese folding screens. Both Seal and Monkey were inspired by the expertise of the brushwork, and with one screen in particular that seemed to master the economy of line, hinting at mountains and rivers shrouded in a bank of fog with the slightest value changes and brush strokes.

We saw another mini-concert/performance by Brenda, Mark and Co., and then we sped off to grab some dinner. Overall it was an awesome night, and we couldn't really beat the show for the $10 ticket price. Woo!

Because we're inspired by the mood of the season, we've decided to share with you a little scary story we've co-written (it's kind of long for a blog post, just be warned!). Enjoy and have a happy Halloween! We are proud to present: The White Door

On Sam's way home from work, he would generally keep to the same route, down Lincoln, right at the corner store, down two blocks on Woodsbury, and then left onto Ausiel, which took him past a few blocks of old Victorians til he got to his apartment. He deviated from this route rarely, only if he needed to pick something up from the dry cleaner's of perhaps some limes at the corner store.

One day, on a unremarkable day like any other, as he walked down Ausiel he looked up and noticed a door he had never seen before. Granted, he didn't look up focusing on noticing strange doors on a daily basis, but he noticed that at the peak of a house, presumably where the attic might be, lay a strange, whitish door that was left ajar.

At first, Sam though he had seen a dim light in the room casting strange shadows about. Although the door had no strange markings besides a round-ish crystalline knob and a shiny white finish, Sam couldn't get it out of his head when he went to sleep that night.

The door didn't quite make sense. It seemed to jut out into open space - why would you make a door leading to a four-story fall? If it was just for decoration, then why was it a full door and not a window?

That night, as Sam slept, he saw the door, closer this time, as if he was flying. This time, a strange greenish light seeped out and as he approached the door a black cat suddenly jumped out and hissed at him, waking him just as his alarm clock was about to go off.

As the days turned into weeks into months, Sam would occasionally glance up towards the door, and it seemed to always be open, almost beckoning for him to enter. While he didn't even know how he could get up there, he was quite curious, but never curious enough to take any sort of action.

Soon it was October, and with the crisp fall air sweeping through the streets and talk of Halloween costumes filling the water cooler chatter. The month quickly flew by, and with Halloween falling on a Saturday that year, parties were being thrown left and right.

Sam, dressed as a scarecrow, decided to venture with his friend Paul to check out a few different parties to celebrate Halloween. After staying longer than expected at a nearby bar, he found that he and Paul were unexpectedly close to his house. While things were already getting a bit loopy after the shots at the bar, Sam was relieved when they walked back on Ausiel to what was familiar territory for Sam.

As he waited with Paul and some other guests outside the apartment complex to get buzzed in, Sam was suddenly hit with a jolt of familiarity. The apartment building looked really, really familiar to him. As the buzzer went off and the gate was opened, he realized he was at the same building that had that strange door on its roof.

As Sam went in, he suddenly felt the urge to climb the stairs to see if he could finally find out what was going on with the strange door, but Paul threw his arm around his shoulder and led him into a ground-floor apartment.

"Whose party is this?" Sam asked. Paul just shrugged and informed him that it was the resident manager's apartment, but that the guy was a friend of a friend. As Paul scampered off to procure some more drinks, Sam absently rode the buzz and started looking around. The apartment wasn't lit very well, and dark curtains hung from every corner, dividing the room. Fake cobwebs were strung up upon bookshelves and on cheap prop candelabras decorating table tops.

As Sam made his way deeper into the party, pushing past the billowing black curtains and costumed guests towards what he assumed was a bathroom. When he finally found the door he assumed to be a bathroom, he pushed it open to find that it was actually some sort of closet. It was only a few square feet, but surprisingly, it was nearly empty, save for some long black coats that hung from a clothing bar stretched across the width of the closet.

What surprised Sam even more was that in the darkness, he could see light oozing out of a crack in the back wall of the closet. He looked back to see if he was being watched, but all he saw were guests dancing and completely engaged in their conversations. He stepped forward and found that the back wall wasn't a wall at all, it was a door. A door he had seen before every day on his way home from work.

Sam's pulse started to race and emboldened by the alcohol in his system he closed the closet door behind him and started groping into the closet, gently pushing away the coats. His hand ran against smooth, porcelain-like molding until he came to what found what he was looking for. As soon as his hand wrapped around the door handle, he knew it was the same door. Crystalline door handle set in an ornate steel locking mechanism, smooth porcelain finish, Sam had seen it a thousand times before and just feeling it in his hand, he could see it even in the dark.

As Sam slowly turned the handle and stepped past the hanging clothes, he found himself in a narrow passageway, seemingly between the walls of the apartment building. Naked wooden beams and posts surrounded him, foam insulation sprayed on either side of him. A bare lightbulb hung from a ceiling too high to see and disappeared into the darkness above him.

Sam slowly progressed down the claustrophobic hall, noting that he could hear sounds of the party through the thin walls. He came upon a rickety wooden staircase that ascended upwards into darkness. As he took careful step after careful step, he could hear sounds of other apartments now, horror movies being watched, other parties, bed creaks and moaning. He climbed the stairs for what seemed like a lot longer than he should have been able to, but he pressed on in the dim light.

Sam came suddenly to a dead-end. Was this it? Was this just some strange coincidence that led him to a wall of nothingness? It took a while for Sam to realize that he hadn't come to a dead end, but that the stairs simply turned to the left, as if it was spiraling up around the perimeter of the apartment building.

Sam continued to climb, this time in near darkness. As he stepped through the murky black, he wondered if this was some cruel trick - that eventually up here in the dark recesses of the building the stairs would just give in and he would tumble down to his doom, fated to be rot in the walls like some rat. But the stairs were study, and Sam continued to climb.

As time passed, Sam began to get confused. Was he really so drunk that he couldn't tell how far he had walked? He wasn't sure how many steps a flight of stairs would take to traverse the side of a building, but he had been walking for what seemed like a while, and he had already turned with the stairs five times now. Sam figured that he was, at the very least, above the entrance to the corridor, but the sheer height of it didn't quite make sense. He felt as if he had been walked up ten to fifteen stories worth of stairs, but the building was only four stories tall. He had made it a point to count out how many floors of windows the building had on multiple occasions.

Just as he was about to give up and turn back, through the darkness came a faint light, as if it was creeping through a door just slightly ajar. Suddenly Sam's resolve was back and he climbed on, slowing his pace so he would make less noise as he approached the pinnacle of the stairs. As the distance between them shrank, Sam noticed that it didn't seem to be made of porcelain. It was a bit too shiny, I looked more like polished bone.

Sam nearly laughed out loud at this thought, thinking it would be too absurd and impossible to find a bone large enough to carve an entire door out of. Just then, he could hear a strange chanting going on behind the door. As he neared, he attempted to slowly peek through the door, but leaning forward put off his sense of balance and as he stuck his hands out to brace himself, he ended up pushing the door in forcefully and stumbling inside.

Once inside, it took his eyes a while to adjust. Bright lights were directed towards the middle of the room where a metal table lay. After Sam rubbed his eyes, he found he was in a room with a tall, hooded man with deep-set cheekbones and old eyes. The man stepped foward and extended his hand. "Welcome Sam. I see you finally found the door you've been looking for."

"How..how do you know my name?" Sam looked around, suddenly noticing that there were others in the room, all cloaked with their hoods obscuring their faces. "I'm really sorry to burst in like this, but you see.."

"Oh, we know all about you Sam," spoke the tall man. He motioned for Sam to follow him and walked towards the center of the room. "We know that you've been dying to know what this room is, and how it can exist where it does." Sam was speechless. "Do you know what floor you're on, Sam?"

"Uh, I dunno," stammered Sam, taken aback by the tall man's knowledge of him. "We're in the attic, above the sixth floor?"

"Nice try, but how about the thirtieth floor?" The tall man smiled, the creases of his lips extending a bit farther up on his face than a normal human's smile should Sam stepped back, hesitantly.

The tall man continued. "Sam, I could try to explain to you how the door works, or how we're on the thirtieth floor in a four story building, or I could even explain to you what new door we're actually trying to open, but instead.." Sam suddenly realized that two of the shadowy figures had snuck behind him, and they quickly grabbed him by his arms.

Sam struggled to free himself, but someone else had already grabbed his shoulders and was trying to hold him still. Then there were hands on either side of his head, and a sharp sting in his neck. His captors suddenly let go. Sam stumbled forward, then backwards, and suddenly found himself sitting in a chair. "But instead," the tall man took a step closer to Sam, "I'm just going to show you."

"Sam, you are going to be part of this little experiment tonight. If you hadn't realized, it's just about midnight, so we really should get started." The tall man reached into his cape and slowly drew out a long, thin knife. "I apologize that the drug we just gave you only interrupts your voluntary motor control. You won't be able to talk, or scream, for that matter, but the unfortunately part is that you will most definitely be able to feel."

Sam's body felt like a dead weight. His head became heavy and he sank deeper into his chair. He tried to scream for help, but his body wouldn't listen. Two of the figures lifted Sam up and started to carry him towards the center of the room. "Well, Sam, it's time for us to say good-bye. We really hate to do this to you, but you know what they say, curiosity skinned the cat. Yes, yes, I know the saying is that curiosity killed the cat, but I've never met a creature that really survives too long after being skinned alive, you know? Say 'meow.'"