Artist Resources, Grants for Artists, Creative Projects, Making Money for Artists

It’s rejection season, baby. For creative beings who bravely put themselves out there this fall and winter, I tip my hat to you—regardless of the outcome. The first months of the year are a notoriously brutal season for artists because, while a small percentage of us just received happy news (you finally got that grant!), the vast majority of working artists are questioning why they poured hours of their precious free time into applications that go nowhere.

As we awaited the arrival of our second child, my wife and I decided that it was time to look for a house. We were renting a small, two-bedroom house that felt close to bursting at the seams with toys, clothes, and the equipment one accumulates when caring for a small child, so the prospect of squeezing in another baby felt a bit too much like a circus act. Plus our lease was running out and we really didn’t like our landlord (a story for another time).

You’re staring at the screen, your finger hovering over the submit button as you run through your application materials one last time — the artist statement you’ve rewritten seven (oh, wait…now eight) times, the project budget you’ve tweaked and retweaked, the work samples you’ve agonized over selecting. We’ve all hit submit with the same, well-worn mixture of hope and resignation.

My phone recently broke in a very particular and life-changing way. Every three minutes on the dot, the screen goes pitch black, the phone shuts down, and then immediately turns back on again as if nothing ever happened. While this doesn’t affect any core functionality, like sending a text or placing a bulk order of fresh churros — the most essential things you can accomplish with a smartphone in under three minutes — it did provide some much-needed relief from the endless doomscrolling experience that’s come to define our online lives.

I’ll never forget the first time I took myself on an artist date. Okay, to be honest, I forget most of the details. But I’ll never forget how it felt. The clarity! The creative freedom! The subversive undertones. It was my first taste of anti-productivity.

Behind every artist is an encouraging herd of supporters. Our herd can include family, friends, teachers, counselors, mentors, partners—often growing and changing shape over time. Whether it’s my fellow staff members (many of whom are artists in their own right) or the artists we serve on the daily, I’m perpetually curious: who helped you become an artist? What support does an artist need from their community? And in turn, how does art sustain and strengthen a community?

It’s rejection season, baby. For creative beings who bravely put themselves out there this fall and winter, I tip my hat to you—regardless of the outcome. The first months of the year are a notoriously brutal season for artists because, while a small percentage of us just received happy news (you finally got that grant!), the vast majority of working artists are questioning why they poured hours of their precious free time into applications that go nowhere.

Fellow perfectionists, I invite you to imagine the following scenario: you just printed a huge, adhesive sticker. It’s the height of a fully grown hobbit, and feels like a perfect, two-dimensional newborn (“they have your eyes!”). Now, imagine slowly unpeeling it, heart pounding, painfully aware that you have one chance to get it right. To your horror, the sticker begins clinging desperately to every surface it can find, including your skin, your clothes, and itself.

I’ll never forget the first time I took myself on an artist date. Okay, to be honest, I forget most of the details. But I’ll never forget how it felt. The clarity! The creative freedom! The subversive undertones. It was my first taste of anti-productivity.

Time for another exciting update on adventures in impact investing during my not-a-sabbatical! (If that sentence doesn’t ring any bells, you might want to read the two linked posts to get caught up. Not a requirement, though!)