An Audience of One

How a decades-old painting taught me to stop gatekeeping my own creativity.

A month or so ago I received a strange email.

It was from a young man who had a confession to make. For a few years now, he had been using a small watercolor sketch of a bird that I had painted on a whim over a decade ago as a profile picture on an online account of his. This sketch:

He couldn’t remember where he found it, but through a series of round-about reverse image searches (I suppose they do those sorts of things these days) he had discovered my current website and email.

He had reached out to me because he loved this image so much he wanted to pay me for using it all these years.

Now, if he hadn’t sounded like a nice guy and if he hadn’t included an attachment of the actual painting in question, I would have thought it was a scam.

But I emailed him back, thanking him, and expressing my amazement at the story of how he tracked me down. I assured him that payment was not necessary… and I hesitated. Do I turn down his offer of payment? No. I included a PayPal link, and told him to stay in touch.

An hour later, $100 landed in my account.

I tracked down the painting in storage, and mailed it to him as soon as I could. He replied with an image of him holding the drawing, beaming with happiness.

Who am I doing this for?

The whole experience was humbling to me. First of all, I cringed when I realized he was in love with such an old, shoddy piece of mine. I could do so much better! But that wasn’t the point. The point was, this bird that I painted for kicks back in 2013 (I feel old) was something that made me happy, and it in turn made him happy. I was so excited to post that art on my little Blogger blog where no one (I thought) would probably ever see it. But they might.

Somewhere along the line, I think I lost that ability to freely share. Every mark I made, every idea I’ve had has been run through a filter of “will they like it?” and “is this marketable?” and “what will my friends and mentors think?”

These questions, of course are impossible or futile to try to answer. But the best answer is action. An act of creativity, freely shared. With your world. With your kids, your internet followers, your client who really needs those sketches today! Share it with no strings attached.

And so, I am writing this publication (I’m calling it a publication… makes me feel a bit like a journalist) for now. Because it feels like a way to freely share my ideas and thoughts. Maybe you’ll get something out of it. Maybe not. That’s okay. But thanks for being here anyway.

Oh, and if you’re using someone’s art as your profile picture… consider tracking down the artist and tossing them a little cash. They’ll appreciate it.

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