The validity of artistic work

The argument I keep making, who I am trying to convince, and why it's important.

Had to figure out how to get ol’ George Bailey in here

Welcome back to Slacker Stuff, a weekly column for professional creatives, heads of content, or anyone else aspiring to be a creative leader.

Last week, I told you about the practical reasons why I treat my work seriously. This week, let’s think a little more broadly and start with three seemingly disconnected thoughts:

According to the Bureau of Economic Analysis, Arts and Culture accounted for $1.17 trillion in 2023, which was 4.2 percent of GDP that year. That might not mean much if you aren’t tapped into the national economy, but look at how much money corporations are willing to shell out to own a piece of the creative pie: as of writing this Netflix has offered $82.7-Billion to acquire Warner Brothers.

I bet you’ve heard of the “Writers Strike” or the “Actors Strike” of 2023. Each strike lasted over 100 days. Neither union, the WGA or SAG-AFTRA are the largest union in the United States, but I’m confident you’ve heard of them. I feel like more people heard about the Hollywood Strikes of 2023 than those who know that there’s currently a Starbucks workers strike (as of now, most workers are returning to work).

I think often about folks not as fortunate as I, the folks who want to make art but are stuck in a dead-end job. With all the resources in the world, we should be living in a post-scarcity society. We have the tools and technology to make sure no one needs to work just to receive healthcare. We should be living in a world where folks are supported by a robust social safety net without placing a means-test on receiving basic necessities like food, shelter, clean water, education… It’s disheartening to hear how much George Bailey’s question still elicits an aching feeling 80 years later. “Do you know how long it takes a working man to save $5,000?”

Percentages of GDP, labor movements, It’s a Wonderful Life… what does all of this have to do with Slacker Stuff, a column for creative professionals?

There’s this chip on my shoulder I’ve felt for quite some time. I’ve doubted myself constantly that what I do for a living is considered “real work.” Producing podcasts and making YouTube videos is by no means life or death, as we discussed last week. I’m searching for a justification in the work I do, a desire for it to be filled with meaning and, perhaps, altruism. Am I feeding into a system I disagree with? Am I wasting my energy on something that has little to no impact on the world?

The thoughts and statistics I opened with are top of mind because I thought I needed to build a case against someone. I thought I was writing this for someone who is out there that doesn’t believe working in an artistic field is “real work.” This is a person who scoffs at the notion of painting or songwriting being important. Even in my imagination, arguing with a made-up individual, I feel compelled to present a convincing argument (hence the data).

But it wasn’t until very recently that I realized who I was trying to persuade. It’s someone I know intimately and have faced off with similar psychological battles before: it’s me.

In my work and in my life, I’m chasing a feeling. I used to think happiness was a destination you arrived at, but I know now that it’s the byproduct of doing or achieving something. I can’t be happy all the time, just like I can’t be full all the time. To feel full, I need to eat a big meal. I feel happiest when I am creating, so create I must.

If you weren’t aware already, I have a YouTube channel where I have been creating 60-second short videos about whatever topic I find interesting at a given moment. My aunt Kara has taken to calling these shorts “Filler” which comes from newspaper writers having to “fill” inches on the page with trivia or fun facts when writing a column. The substack publication you’re reading right now is the “Column.”

There’s this bliss I feel when I’m creating this Filler content. It’s like all of the skills I’ve cultivated over the years have been built up to do this one thing. Writing, filming, editing, motion graphics, distributing… all of it coming from me, spinning up a story about something I find interesting (I do use AI here, more on that another time). The magic of filmmaking that I fell in love with as a middle schooler was something I knew existed, but didn’t feel equipped to do myself. I feel like that kid would be proud of me and marvel at the skills I’ve accumulated.

I’ve fallen in love with my creative process because it feels so satisfying to make a tangible asset seemingly out of thin air. Creating Filler content and writing this Column occupy so much of whatever the “desire” section of my brain is that it’s terrifying in a way. It’s all I want to do, it’s my passion.

That’s why, even though I make a few bucks a month off of creating Filler content, that’s not the main motivation. Eventually, it would be nice to get enough of a following to be able to help out with the bills, but my primary motivation is what carries me through the hard times: the feeling I have when all the creative pieces fall into place.

I used to base the success of these projects entirely on their outcomes. Would I get 1,000 views on a video? Would I get 10,000 subscribers on YouTube? Would I earn $100,000 from ad revenue? Those outcomes would certainly be nice, but building my process around achieving those outcomes and those outcomes alone will not bring about the blissful feeling I’m chasing. It feels different this time because I know that working on these creative pursuits is the goal. Just showing up and getting the work done is the entire blueprint to success for me.

Did I show up and work on Filler videos today? I won. Did I show up and work on my Column today? I won again. Damn, winning sure is easy, huh?

I have these arguments with myself about the validity of artistic work because I feel so protective of it. I will do whatever it takes to keep doing what I do. While I occupy a small slice of that artistic GDP pie piece, I’m grateful for my piece. And I know that larger piece is filled with so many different creatives, chasing dreams in other milieus, from Hollywood to Etsy to their father’s building and loan. All of us are doing real, economically valuable work, whether that matters to you or not.

I’m curious about the intersection of labor and creativity, so I don’t think I’ll stop searching for meaning in the work that I do. I don’t think I’ll quit having the fake argument with myself and finding facts that support my side. There will still be reflections on lessons learned and musings on how things are developing in the creative sphere, but in searching for meaning and shoring up my arguments, I’ll continue to show up here every week.

I’m glad you’re here.