Managing failure

I recently realized that I spend several hours a day practicing art but I don't spend any time actually thinking about it from an emotional or psychological perspective. I want to be more deliberate about addressing these issues and writing about them seems like a great way to go about it.

One difficulty that comes up often is how to manage failure. I am reminded of Asimov and his thoughts on this issue:

The writer's life is inherently an insecure one. Each project is a new start and may be a failure. The fact that a previous item has been successful is no guard against failure this time.

This is one of the most effective ways I have seen anyone describe the issue of failure in the context of art. Although he references writing, you can easily replace writing with any other creative craft and have the quote still make sense.  No matter how much I seem to improve at creating art and no matter how much people enjoy my work, I struggle with insecurity and fear of failing. The fact that previous works have been mostly successful doesn't immunize me from these emotions. Previous success lessens the intensity of the emotions somewhat but the underlying fears never seem to go away. If you realistically look at each new piece, there is clearly a chance that you will fail, especially if you are constantly pushing your boundaries and taking on challenges that are potentially outside of your current abilities. I am not saying this to justify these insecurities but as a way to more objectively look at the issue.

On a related note, how do you define failure? It's tricky. For me, "failing" on a particular piece is not having it create an emotional connection with the viewer. How do you define "emotional connection"? This is a difficult issue as well. The way I define it is what the natural reaction of your audience is. For instance, if upon seeing your work, the viewer looks genuinely impressed, then you likely captured something important. Often times, what this looks like in practice is the viewer being somewhat mesmerized and not saying much other than "oh.." This sense of awe can take on different forms but it's one of those reactions that is in the "you know it when you see it" category.

Is the above definition of success too stringent? Perhaps. But if your art doesn't connect with people and move them in some way, what value does it have? It's true that the process of creating any particular work is essential for learning and improving your craft and I am not denying such benefits. I believe such practical uses of a "failed" piece are very important. But, such "behind-the-scenes" benefits are for the artist alone and such details are irrelevant for the audience. What the viewer generally wants is to feel something when they look at your work. When they don't feel anything, there is no way to hide it. It's very easy to see that it didn't do anything for them.

So, in the face of repeated defeat, how do you maintain motivation and persevere? How do you keep going when failure can feel so draining and demotivating? Unfortunately, I don't have a clear answer. From my experience so far, the primary reason why I am able to keep moving is because my love for art seems to be much greater than the sadness and frustration caused by setbacks. Additionally, as I do improve, my work is able to create an emotional connection not just with others, but with me as well. This connection with my own work creates a sense of fulfillment and meaning. These positive emotions feel wonderful and it motivates me to keep trying and not giving up because I want to keep experiencing such feelings again. Also, I try to remember that failing is an essential part of challenging myself and if I am not failing, it very likely means that I am staying in safe waters and not letting my ship sail farther out to sea. After all...

A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for.

I.Asimov

I recently read Isaac Asimov's autobiography, "I.Asimov" and it's one of the best autobiographies I have ever read. Granted I haven't read that many biographies but I imagine I would still think highly of this book even if I had read many others. The reader gets such a sense of genuineness, humility, and immense introspectiveness that it's easy to forget that the subject of the book was an extremely successful and prolific writer who is known all over the world even to this day, years after his death. Asimov lead a very interesting life and the book is full of experiences that will make you feel the whole gamut of emotions. I highly recommend it even if you're not particularly a fan of Asimov and his work.

With that said, I want to share my favorite quotes from the book:

• The truly important parts of life develop slowly with experience.

• The whole world seems to live under the banner: "Freedom is wonderful--but only for me."

• I received the fundamentals of my education in school, but that was not enough. My real education, the superstructure, the details, the true architecture, I got out of the public library. Now, when I read constantly about the way in which library funds are being cut and cut, I can only think that American society has found one more way to destroy itself.

• The excitement was all I wrote for in those early years. In my wildest dreams it never occurred to me that anything I wrote would ever be published. I didn't write out of ambition.

• I would certainly not change my own views just for the sake of peace in the household, and I would not want a woman so feeble in her opinions that she would do so.

• I may have many sins, but I have never practiced the sin of ingratitude... I have made a fetish of gratitude and loyalty all my life and I've never regretted the possible loss of money because of it. I would rather lose money than feel like an ingrate.

• The writer's life is inherently an insecure one. Each project is a new start and may be a failure. The fact that a previous item has been successful is no guard against failure this time.

• I refuse to consider myself to be anything more sharply defined than "human being," and I feel that aside from overpopulation the most intractable problem we face in trying to avoid the destruction of civilization and humanity is the diabolical habit of people dividing themselves into tiny groups, with each group extolling itself and denouncing its neighbors.

• I feel that no human group deserves a "homeland" in the usual sense of the word. The earth should not be cut up into hundreds of different sections, each inhabited by a self-defined segment of humanity that considers its own welfare and its own "national security" to be paramount above all other considerations.

• There are no nations. There is only humanity. And if we don't come to understand that right soon, there will be no nations, because there will be no humanity.

• I have noticed that there is a certain air of incredulity or amusement in anyone to whom I talk about the importance of loyalty.

• There is nothing frightening about an eternal dreamless sleep. Surely it is better than eternal torment in Hell or eternal boredom in Heaven.

• Even sex takes second place to writing as far as I am concerned.

• I admit that every time the circumstances of my life changed radically, I would worry about whether I'd be able to continue my writing as before, but the worry has always been groundless. The writing always continued. 

• Why didn't I take it easier? I didn't want to. I dreaded slowing down... I was in a hurry, for despite everything I couldn't rid myself of the feeling that I was mortal.

• I don't expect to live forever, nor do I repine over that, but I am weak enough to want to be remembered forever.

As a bonus, here's a drawing I did of the man himself:

Of Robots and Government Policies

I am currently reading Caves of Steel by Isaac Asimov and I would like to share a quote from the book that provides social commentary in the context of social unrest.

The context is that more and more human jobs are being replaced by robots ever since the invention of the "positronic brain." As time goes on, increasingly advanced robots are being built. The scene is at a department store where the clerks have recently been replaced by robots. A female shopper starts complaining about not wanting to be served by robots and this complaint starts a chain of events that eventually leads to a mob forming outside the store that is on the verge of rioting and tearing apart the robots. The author covers the fact that most of humanity has an increasingly more severe fear of being replaced by robots and one of the ways this fear manifests itself is through riots throughout the city. He then continues to make an astute observation on the topic of social unrest:

... individual robots were not to blame. Individual robots could at least be struck at. One could not strike at something called 'governmental policy' or at a slogan like 'higher production with robot labor.'

This observation touches upon the fact that majority of people are not able to process complex or abstract ideas, especially when they are angry. They want something straightforward and concrete to attack so they can vent their frustrations. I imagine this might even be the case with most of Trump's supporters. They are angry at various government policies and other complex issues involving numerous stakeholders, thoroughly vested interests, and situations that have a long history. These individuals are frustrated and are looking for an outlet for venting their anger against something/someone that is easy to visualize and hate on. This could partially explain some of the racism and hatred present among Trump's supporters. They need a way to channel their anger and Trump is providing them with easy and simple targets that don't involve analysis or thinking of any sort. It's tempting and very human to take the path of least resistance when solving a problem. In this case, the "problem" is frustration that has no easy outlet.