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This is a post which has been brewing for a bit, mostly stuff I wrote elsewhere. Hopefully my rambling will not get too incoherent.
Okay, Bill Watterson, the guy who drew Calvin and Hobbes, gave a commencement speech at his alma mater, Kenyon College. Zen Pencils did a comic adaptation of part of that speech, but not the whole thing.
I really didn't like the Zen Pencils version, which has been making the rounds. It seems a little too unrealistic, too cloying in its niceness. So... if you had a choice between really busting ass at an ad agency with not particularly charming coworkers, or dropping out so that you could be a househusband working on your art and hobbies, and you knew that no matter what you did, no matter how much money your art might never bring in, your wife was okay with hauling into work and making enough to keep you housed, fed, clothed, and by the way able to paint up awesome dinosaur models in your spare time, which would you choose? To me, that's a foregone conclusion. I'm reminded here of Norman Rockwell explaining that he painted what he thought was an appealing daydream, not what he actually thought the world was.
However, I really liked Watterson's original speech. I think it's a lot more nuanced (and, I guess, 5-10 minutes worth of prose is by definition going to be more nuanced than a comic which, thanks to clear drawing and page layout, you might read a minute). Reading the speech, I think Watterson "gets it." What "it" is here is that neither "I dropped everything so I could do what I loved" nor "you've gotta be responsible and bust ass in corporate America for reward and advancement" is a surefire recipe for success. That working day jobs which don't really mean much can be following your bliss, if they make enough money to keep you alive and vaguely comfortable... but then the other part is you have to remember to play and create, rather than only veg out watching the tube (or, for that matter, writing big long blog posts). The Middle Path isn't follow your bliss, quit your day job - the Middle Path is that your day job is useful, and you should follow your bliss.
I'm reminded here, of both a different commencement speech - Neil Gaiman, talking about viewing the whole pursuit of success as a writer as a process - and of Scott McCloud talking about writing in Making Comics. McCloud encourages you to write stuff you think is awesome, because even if it never winds up successful, you've got at least one fan.
That bit of Making Comics tallies with my experience sharing my artwork online. People are similar enough that no matter what you're making, you're going to have fans if you share it. I am keenly aware that "I have fans who think my stuff is awesome" is not the same thing as "my legions of fans are a surefire recipe for making rent next month... and mean I get to be Artist Guest of Honor at a convention." As I get older, I learn more and more that there's success and failure, winning and losing, although I also tend to forget this in favor of simplifying what life throws out.
We often think of success as winning, failure as losing. We've been taught that you get only those combinations, and we're shown all the places where someone follows their bliss and is true to themselves and it pays off, from the couple of hobbyists selling computer kits who became multi-billionaires, to the guy who overcomes horrific childhood abuse to build a successful life. I don't think it's that simple. A quick glance around any office, Starbucks, or bus will reveal lots of people for whom success never materialized, and some of those guys might've been following their bliss or being true to themselves just fine. Plus not all successes are the same success - life doesn't come with a dial you can click neatly to generic settings like "poor but happy," "poor but deeply dissatisfied," "lower middle class," "upper middle class," and "rich."
We live during the worst depression since the 30s - none of the discussion of economic recovery seems to really play out for average people on the ground, not yet anyway. We live in a time where pursuing what you actually love as a day job and having it really pay off is a lucky break. I think turning the focus on core values is a way to deal with that reality yet stay sane. I have to admit that I got that idea mostly the book Finding Life Beyond Trauma, but I see this elsewhere - in Watterson's speech, in a friend's suggestion several months back, and oddly, one of the places I see it is the movie The Empire Strikes Back.
At the end of The Empire Strikes Back, none of the heroes are successful. In fact they've failed dismally. Han's a lawn ornament, Leia and Chewie are missing their best friend, Luke is missing a hand and a batch of Jedi training but now he understands just how close he is to being pretty completely evil, has the ethical challenge that he'll probably have to off his dad at some point, and he's now very much wanted by Vader and Palpatine alike, and Lando has just lost everything. Oh, okay, so all of the heroes who aren't currently lawn ornaments are at least fed and housed by the Rebel Alliance and that sure beats squatting in a cardboard box on Nar Shadaa or being disposable labor in Kessel, but this isn't exactly a measure of runaway success (again, not all success is the same success).
Yuck.
But see, they all won in terms of their actual values. Han's saved his friends, Leia and Chewie are trying to figure out better odds than just going out fighting stormtroopers, Luke hasn't become either a Sith pawn or Yoda's very sterile version of a good Jedi, and Lando's been true to himself rather than be some nice little Imperial stoolie. Since it's the movies, of course, this pays off, but at the end of Empire, with Luke taking a break to hang out with Leia and watch Lando and Chewie pursue their lawn ornamentized friend before he starts physical therapy, this isn't a sure thing. Not at all.
Anyway that's all I really wanted to say.
Okay, Bill Watterson, the guy who drew Calvin and Hobbes, gave a commencement speech at his alma mater, Kenyon College. Zen Pencils did a comic adaptation of part of that speech, but not the whole thing.
I really didn't like the Zen Pencils version, which has been making the rounds. It seems a little too unrealistic, too cloying in its niceness. So... if you had a choice between really busting ass at an ad agency with not particularly charming coworkers, or dropping out so that you could be a househusband working on your art and hobbies, and you knew that no matter what you did, no matter how much money your art might never bring in, your wife was okay with hauling into work and making enough to keep you housed, fed, clothed, and by the way able to paint up awesome dinosaur models in your spare time, which would you choose? To me, that's a foregone conclusion. I'm reminded here of Norman Rockwell explaining that he painted what he thought was an appealing daydream, not what he actually thought the world was.
However, I really liked Watterson's original speech. I think it's a lot more nuanced (and, I guess, 5-10 minutes worth of prose is by definition going to be more nuanced than a comic which, thanks to clear drawing and page layout, you might read a minute). Reading the speech, I think Watterson "gets it." What "it" is here is that neither "I dropped everything so I could do what I loved" nor "you've gotta be responsible and bust ass in corporate America for reward and advancement" is a surefire recipe for success. That working day jobs which don't really mean much can be following your bliss, if they make enough money to keep you alive and vaguely comfortable... but then the other part is you have to remember to play and create, rather than only veg out watching the tube (or, for that matter, writing big long blog posts). The Middle Path isn't follow your bliss, quit your day job - the Middle Path is that your day job is useful, and you should follow your bliss.
I'm reminded here, of both a different commencement speech - Neil Gaiman, talking about viewing the whole pursuit of success as a writer as a process - and of Scott McCloud talking about writing in Making Comics. McCloud encourages you to write stuff you think is awesome, because even if it never winds up successful, you've got at least one fan.
That bit of Making Comics tallies with my experience sharing my artwork online. People are similar enough that no matter what you're making, you're going to have fans if you share it. I am keenly aware that "I have fans who think my stuff is awesome" is not the same thing as "my legions of fans are a surefire recipe for making rent next month... and mean I get to be Artist Guest of Honor at a convention." As I get older, I learn more and more that there's success and failure, winning and losing, although I also tend to forget this in favor of simplifying what life throws out.
We often think of success as winning, failure as losing. We've been taught that you get only those combinations, and we're shown all the places where someone follows their bliss and is true to themselves and it pays off, from the couple of hobbyists selling computer kits who became multi-billionaires, to the guy who overcomes horrific childhood abuse to build a successful life. I don't think it's that simple. A quick glance around any office, Starbucks, or bus will reveal lots of people for whom success never materialized, and some of those guys might've been following their bliss or being true to themselves just fine. Plus not all successes are the same success - life doesn't come with a dial you can click neatly to generic settings like "poor but happy," "poor but deeply dissatisfied," "lower middle class," "upper middle class," and "rich."
We live during the worst depression since the 30s - none of the discussion of economic recovery seems to really play out for average people on the ground, not yet anyway. We live in a time where pursuing what you actually love as a day job and having it really pay off is a lucky break. I think turning the focus on core values is a way to deal with that reality yet stay sane. I have to admit that I got that idea mostly the book Finding Life Beyond Trauma, but I see this elsewhere - in Watterson's speech, in a friend's suggestion several months back, and oddly, one of the places I see it is the movie The Empire Strikes Back.
At the end of The Empire Strikes Back, none of the heroes are successful. In fact they've failed dismally. Han's a lawn ornament, Leia and Chewie are missing their best friend, Luke is missing a hand and a batch of Jedi training but now he understands just how close he is to being pretty completely evil, has the ethical challenge that he'll probably have to off his dad at some point, and he's now very much wanted by Vader and Palpatine alike, and Lando has just lost everything. Oh, okay, so all of the heroes who aren't currently lawn ornaments are at least fed and housed by the Rebel Alliance and that sure beats squatting in a cardboard box on Nar Shadaa or being disposable labor in Kessel, but this isn't exactly a measure of runaway success (again, not all success is the same success).
Yuck.
But see, they all won in terms of their actual values. Han's saved his friends, Leia and Chewie are trying to figure out better odds than just going out fighting stormtroopers, Luke hasn't become either a Sith pawn or Yoda's very sterile version of a good Jedi, and Lando's been true to himself rather than be some nice little Imperial stoolie. Since it's the movies, of course, this pays off, but at the end of Empire, with Luke taking a break to hang out with Leia and watch Lando and Chewie pursue their lawn ornamentized friend before he starts physical therapy, this isn't a sure thing. Not at all.
Anyway that's all I really wanted to say.