How do you measure success, when you are half way through the story?
We all try to do it. At every step along the journey we weigh and measure ourselves to determine whether our chosen path is of value. Are we lost? Will we ultimately win in the end? Have we wasted too much time on this ladder, or perhaps we should start over again on the rung of a more practical ladder. In some standards of measurement I am considered a failure. I'm a thirty-one year old unemployed writer, with no real home, no savings, and no job. Yet, at the same time, by another standard I have succeeded in ways that make me a rare breed in the world. I strive to do great things, and great things demand courage. It is true, I have nothing worthy of note to my name except an unshakable resilience in the pursuit of my dream. Does that attribute even mean anything if it is something that cannot be measured until your journey is over? This past September I was forced to put my grit, and determination to the test when a devastating loss inspired me to pursue what would become the
52 Week Art Challenge. Currently I am six months into the year long endeavor, but in order for you to understand the whole story, I will have to start you at the beginning.
In April of 2014, I was living in sunny Los Angeles, in a beautiful apartment which came to be known by all my closest friends as, The Tree House. It was a second floor unit which stood on it's own, had massive windows where trees full of squirrels and hummingbirds greeted me every morning as I sipped fresh ground coffee at my breakfast table. This was my home. The very first one which was all mine. A sanctuary of inspiration I built slowly over nine years of freelance work in the arts which gave just enough money to barely get by. At this current point in my life I had been developing a musical called
Behind Closed Doors, which I began four years ago with my writing partner, Aaron Beaumont. On the day before my thirty-first birthday, we learned that our show was offered the opportunity to premiere at the New York International Fringe Festival! This was that huge step for us. The goal was always to bring the show to New York, and that day was finally here! This all sounds like the best news in the world, except for the major fact that I knew if I took this opportunity for my career, it would financially destroy me. I could lose everything. My house, my jobs, my friends, my life I built in Los Angeles. However, when something like this falls on your lap, you don't say "No." You find a way, which is exactly what we did.
In the next four months Aaron and I would pack up our lives into suitcases, travel three thousand miles, raise thirty thousand dollars, and mount the biggest show we had ever done. It was a miracle that this show happened, and I could not have been more proud of the amazing accomplishment we had just pulled off in such a short amount of time. But then reality eventually had to set in. It was August now, the show was finally open which gave me my first day off in months. I decided to go for a walk along the Hudson River. I was strolling along, thinking about my wonderful life back west, wondering when I should buy my plane ticket back to my home which I was starting to miss dearly, when I pulled out my phone to look at my bank account. It was empty. In that moment I realized the painful truth of what had happened, that life I had built for myself, was now officially gone. I collapsed onto the closest bench, and just sobbed. My immediate future looked so bleak it was physically unbearable to think about. I now had no where to go. You can never really prepare yourself for when the delicate house of cards to all comes crashing down. I did the right thing, how could it go wrong? I did everything every successful person has ever said to do. I worked hard everyday, I took chances, made bold moves, but still had the rug pulled out from under me. I stumbled around the city for the next few days, thirty dollars in my pocket, eating dollar slices of pizza only when I absolutely needed to, applying for every job I could, landing big interviews, and then being rejected for being too ambitious. I did everything I could to save the life I had built, but none of what I did mattered, I lost it all.
The only thing left for me to do was emotionally brace myself for my impending fall down the mountain. I would get up every morning from whatever couch I was sleeping on, and tell myself, "Well, you're still alive. Let's get back to work." For a few weeks I just felt like a zombie, stumbling around angry at the world, and devastated from the loss. I knew I couldn't live like this. I needed a change.
I needed to remind myself that I can make miracles happen. That no matter where I am, I can still make art, I can still practice, and get better at the thing I love so much. I didn't need a home, I didn't need my stuff, I didn't need the energy to conquer the mountain in a single day! I just needed to keep taking steps. That's when I made the commitment to myself, that no matter what happens, no matter where I am, and what I have, I will hold myself accountable to create a challenging piece of art every week for an entire year. Even if everything got infinitely worse, I would still have this. I would always have my purpose. So that's exactly what I did.
For the past six months I have honored my commitment.
Since that breakdown in the park I have written a full length musical, a full length play, four short stories, four short films, created eight video projects, shot a short documentary, photographed six photo series projects, painted four paintings, built four websites, acted in two table reads, recorded two audio books, made my first spoken word video, made my first animated video, and laid the ground work for dozens of more projects. I have accomplished quite a bit in this period of time. I am proud of my accomplishments, my dedication, my ambition, but what has it done in the grand scheme of things? Truthfully speaking, my life really hasn't improved at all. I still can't seem to land a job, even though I have so many amazing new resources to submit. My projects haven't made me any money. They haven't launched into anything of note. In fact, the art project posts mostly go unnoticed. I’ve never felt more satisfied, more inspired, more challenged by my work, and at the same time I have never felt more invisible. What is the point then? Why submit myself to 26 more weeks of beating my head against the wall?
Because, I am already successful. That seems strange to say considering everything I have done lately seems falls flat on it's face. However, despite that debilitating fact, I still go to work everyday. I have climbed the biggest mountain that most people don't ever get to climb. I get to spend every single day doing what I love. I laugh, cry, pull my hair out, and ride the biggest emotional highs facing off against a series of nail-biting challenges, and I don't need anything to make it happen.
Because of this year long challenge, I have faced a constant stream of rejection which feels like a revolving door of getting kicked in the face. But, every day I grow. Every day I get better, because everyday I show up to practice. I'm not going to tell you it's all sunshine, and rainbows. Monday's have easily become the worst day of my week. Monday's are the day I launch my new born vessel against the fickle tides of the internet, watching it sail into silence against a blinding storm of cat videos, and live tweets of outrage over the latest Kardashian debacle. But, Monday's are only an emotional roller coaster, because what I am doing means the world to me.
I am half through this journey, and I couldn't be more grateful. If I hadn't lost everything, I never would have started this project, I never would have collaborated with other amazing artists, I never would have made all these discoveries, refined my work, or created these first 26 pieces which I will cherish for the rest of my life. Even if nothing tangibly successful ever happens with this project, I will have proven to myself that no matter how bad things get, I will keep moving forward, I will keep creating.
So, how do you measure success, when you are only half way through the story?
It's pretty simple. You can only fail at something when you fall, and don't get back up. If you stay down, you've lost. But, if every day you get up, if every day you walk the path you have chosen, if everyday you take one single step back up the mountain, you have succeeded. That doesn't mean everything is going to work out exactly how you plan. In fact, I can almost guarantee that it won't. You will still get knocked down, and you will get knocked down hard! But if you get up, that means the journey isn't over. You're still alive. So, get back to work. Keep taking those steps. There is no guarantee when you will get there, but you will always know you are one step closer, and that is something you can measure everyday.
You can follow the rest of the #52WeekArtChallenge on our
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