How do you know if you’re ready?

Like really ready?

Well with some things like athletic achievements (which I know exactly nothing about) you would train, increase your speed, or weights, or times or other sportsy measurements and then you’d know exactly when you were ready for the next step.

Or say you have a job. You perform over and above the expectation of the job, you’d take all training that was offered, and probably volunteer for extra projects. Eventually, you’d spot the next rung on the ladder and go after a promotion or a better job because you have increased your skills—both business and the “people” kind and you would, for the most part, know you were ready.

In each of those scenarios there are obvious markers, guideposts, or someone saying, “Yes, you’re ready to move on”.

But what if you’re on your own; forging the path of bringing your creative ideas and amazing self to the world, how do you know if you’re ready?

Well, guess what?

You don’t.

You just have to be ready enough.

You already know that stepping out of your comfort zone is hard. Not like, “Oh, I have to speak to the Joint Session of the UN with 10 minutes notice” hard. More like, “He-e-e-y? I’m been working on this idea for a while and I’d really like you to see it” hard.

Way different.

And here’s a little secret: you don’t have to be ready for everything that could happen as a result of you moving forward, because frankly, you can’t be.

It’s impossible to know all that.

But you’ve done hard stuff before so you know that with any move you will have some discomfort. And discomfort isn’t so bad. I mean, you go to the dentist occasionally, right? You use self-check-out scanners at the supermarket from time to time*. These things aren’t fun, but you have proved over and over in your life that you can do the uncomfortable, the awkward, and the “deep breaths, we’re almost through here” moments and come out better for it on the other side.

I actually think you are readier than you think you are. And so do the people around you**. I mean, haven’t you been dreaming about and reading about and talking about this thing for like, years already?

So yeah, you’re ready enough.

And you know it.

*actually the invention of the devil

**Trust me, I talked to all of them and they said you are more than ready for this thing.

Don’t forget that I am live on Facebook each Thursday at 3pm eastern time talking about how me manage this creative life (and these creative brains). The videos are also on YouTube!

Be that person.

The one who shows up consistently.

The one who plans.

The one who says, “I’m pretty sure I can do that”.

The one who says thank you.

The one who tries to figure it out.

The one who asks for help.

The one who tries again.

The one who is easy to work with.

The one who reaches out first.

The one who knows when it’s time to rest.

The one who says, “How can we fix this”?

The one who laughs.

The one who looks at things from a new perspective.

The one who sends the note.

The one who finds a little magic.

What’s so wrong about having a job?

Most of the people I talk to are on some sort of self-employment journey. They may license their art onto products (or are try to), they sell their fine art in galleries and/or on line, or they cobble together teaching on-line and in person, selling digital products, or painting custom art. And as long as all the pieces fit together into a living that can sustain you in good times and bad, then all is good, right? I attended AdobeMax—The Creativity Conference last week which was a multi-sensory, FitBit steps busting, stimulating conference beyond the usual trade show or touchy feely workshops I’m used to. There was pulsing techno music, seizure inducing strobes and more day-glo colors that I’ve seen since my college years (and that was just introducing Questlove and Ron Howard as the keynote speakers). In one of the many sessions offered, I attended “The Gig Economy is getting Gigger” *, a panel discussion aimed at how to manage and balance your freelance business. And according to these smart people, they predict that within our lifetime, ** over 50% of the workerforce will be freelancers instead of traditional employees. I found that number a bit staggering since it has been my experience that not everyone is cut out to run their own business. And if you’ve read my blog for more than five minutes you know that this choice is not for the faint of heart. But if half of the working population is freelance, will it become easier to do so or will it degrade to the point that we will all be grabbing at whatever scraps “the man” throws our way? Dang—anybody as depressed as me right now? But there’s a thing I’ve noticed. Maybe it’s an American thing (anybody want to chime in on that theory?) but every time someone shows promise in a certain area (music, art, plumbing) the reaction is “You should sell those/You could make money at that/You should turn pro” or something else that commands you to monetize whatever it is that you have shown proficiency in. (But if you like plumbing you should definitely do it for a living—that’s where the real money is!)
We have this cultural idea that the only value in the thing you do is what is it worth out in the market—and if you are not planning on “making it big” then, well, you should change your thinking, so you can “make it big”.
But what if you don’t want to? Or you have no prowess to start and run a business? What if you don’t want the often lonely and uncomfortable feelings of always pushing a rock up hill. What if you want to have regular hours and built in collaborators and people around you that do some of the stuff way better than you can and you get to excel in the piece that you are hired to do? And what if you want, in exchange for your skills, a paycheck every two weeks so you can actually plan how you will run your life within your means instead of wondering what the next royalty check looks like? Is that so bad? Oh, sure, “job jobs” are not a sure thing these days. They are hard to come by at times, they tend to come and go more frequently than they used to and invariably someone WILL reheat fish in the break room microwave, but maybe you’re better suited for that life instead of always thinking about the next project and the next elusive client. Maybe you don’t have to buy into the “The Only Goal is to be an Entrepreneur” myth in order to have a nice successful life. Maybe you can be employed and have a little side hustle that brings in a little more coin, OR you could have free time to actually enjoy creating art without the pressure of “making it big”. Crazy, I know. So what are the advantages of a “job job”?
  • Regular income that you can plan on.
  • Collaborative work environment (you hope anyway) and exposure to alternative ideas.
  • Being part of something bigger than you can grow yourself.
  • Professional development—not just gaining knowledge about technical advancements but working with people who know more than you and can serve as inspiration for your next career move.
Think about that and be honest if you may be more suited for traditional employment or if you are built more for self-employment. If you’ve been freelancing for a while, don’t look at a job as a failure. Look at it as an opportunity to up your skills and come home at the end of the day knowing that you did what needed to be done and you don’t have to spend all night worrying what you have to do tomorrow to keep the roof over your head.*** If you’re employed, trust me— the grass over here is not always greener. In fact, there can be more dry patches developing than you can reseed in time for that lush lawn to grow. And what we all know for sure is, nothing is forever. You can always go one way or the other (well, mostly) and make it work. Just be true to who you are, what your skills are and be honest with what you really want out of life. And somebody will be super lucky to be the recipient of all that good stuff you have to offer.   *Of course, I thought it should have been called “The Gig Economy is getting Giggier” but they didn’t ask me. **Not sure if they meant my life time or the life left in the decidedly younger attendees at this particular conference, but whatever. ***I’m talking ideal scenarios here, not about the jobs with the cray-cray boss or the impossible schedule that makes you cry each night on the commute home. Not that I know anything about that.

The No Response Response

You’ve carefully chosen the potential clients that you have always dreamed of working with. You’ve developed a portfolio you are sure will resonate with one of them. It’s based on your research of their company, current trends in the market and how your work would dovetail with their product lines or editorial viewpoint. You’ve crafted a succinct, personalized email addressed to a specific person you want to reach, and after carefully proofreading it, you hit “send” with a flourish. Then you go make yourself another cup of coffee and pat yourself on the back. You’re feeling good. You love everything about what you do and can see all the possibilities as you build the kind of business you’ve been planning for. Sigh. And then some time passes (a week, two, maybe three…) and you realize you haven’t heard back from them yet. “Oh, well,” you think, “I’ll just send another quick email with a few more carefully selected visuals and a nice follow-up note. Let’s see if that helps them understand what I do.” But you don’t hear back after that either. So, you:
  1. Decide that you are a total hack and never deserved this career in the first place.
  2. Go back into the studio and draw more pictures while ignoring all marketing efforts since they apparently never work anyway.
  3. Increase the frequency and volume of your emails to this person because now it’s personal, darnit!
  4. Decide “well, it’s their loss,” and keep moving through your list of potential clients.
Now let’s sit on the other side of the desk for a moment and review some of the reasons WHY you haven’t heard back from your potential client. Things like:
  1. They are uber crazy busy and get so many requests from artists that they can’t possibly respond to each one. Responding to your submission lands somewhere below prepping for their next production meeting, dealing with their assistant who is crying in the lady’s room again, finding a container of product hung up with customs, picking up their sick kid or dealing with their crazy boss.
  2. They like your work but don’t have a place for it right now, and they hope they’ll remember you when the time comes, but right now they don’t have the time to craft an email telling you that (see #1).
  3. They are too nice to say, “Your work is not right for us and I don’t think it ever will be,” so they just hope you’ll get the hint if they don’t respond to you at all, and you will go away quietly.
  4. They just may be kind of rude and figure, “meh, it’s just another artist, there’s always another one.” (No! That can’t be true!)
  5. They have a policy that they only respond to art that they want to move forward on.
And since you have NO IDEA where they are on this spectrum you don’t really know how to proceed. But here are a few options you might consider:
  1. Keep following up on a regular basis, because you never know which piece you send might turn into “the one” (or when, so don’t attach emotion to the outcome of that follow-up activity or you will drive yourself nuts).
  2. Try one last time but this time with a non-confrontational but direct question. Something like: “Hi Joan, I’ve been sending you some artwork to consider and I haven’t heard back from you. I know how busy you are, but could you let me know if you think there’s any potential for my work at your company? I’m happy to keep sending if you do.” Joan can either look at the previous work you sent and get back to you with a “Thanks, but no, I don’t think this is right for us.” type note OR… a “You know, I like your work, but I don’t have the right project right now. But keep me posted on new work, okay?” Of course, old Joanie can ignore that email too, and now you can feel free move on—until of course, you have something new and different to send. Then send that.
  3. Keep them on your email list for announcements or invitations to shows etc. (if they have signed up, of course) but stop the personalized chase for now.
  4. Stew over it until you are so cranky that the only remedy is consuming salty snacks while whining to everyone around you how unfair the world is.
  5. Acknowledge that if the work you sent was right for them straight out of the chute, you would have heard from them already. Heavy sigh.
And here’s a little note to our beloved Art Directors (and Agents, actually): Would you consider establishing some quick email responses to artists who have reached out to you? The artists who are working so hard to present their work to you will be ever so grateful! And because I know how busy you are, I’ve written a few that you can feel free to cut and paste into your response emails: To the artists whose work is pretty cool, but not right for you right now: Dear Artist, Thanks so much for reaching out to me with your work. Although I think it’s great it doesn’t quite fit what we are looking for right now but do stay in touch in the future. To the artist whose work will never, ever be right for you: Dear Artist, Thanks so much for reaching out to me with your work. I don’t think your style is a good fit for our company, but I wish you all the best in your future endeavors. To the artist whose work is amazing, but your company would never consider that look or style: Dear Artist, Wow-great work! Although I personally love it, this look isn’t right for our particular customer; I am sure you will find a place for it in the market. My best to you and do stay in touch. And every artist’s personal favorite: Dear Artist, where should I send the contract and the big bag o’ money? So, there you have it. It’s either about you—or it’s not. They either like your work—or they don’t. It can be really frustrating and definitely dis-heartening to not get any response from your efforts. But after a period of time (and only you can be the judge of what that is—6 months? Two years? Before you turn 67?), and despite your best efforts, you have never gotten a response, you probably need to re-think some things. Either the list of people you want to work with, the market you are going after, or the art you are offering. And who know what will happen if you face that fact and make some adjustments rather than staying put at any cost? You may discover a company or a market out there that thinks you are the most awesome artist ever. I just hope they let you know.   PS. If you’re interested in a simple approach to finding clients, take my short Skillshare class called: Getting Clients—The 5 X 5 Plan to Get Focused, Reach More Clients & Stay Sane  

Confidence or Guts?

“I just need a little more confidence”.

“How can I feel more confident”?

“I just don’t have the confidence to do this”.

I’m not sure you can just “become confident”. It’s not something you can decide you will be or declare it to be so.

Confidence is earned.

The key ingredient to becoming confident (along with a decent haircut, btw) is just plain guts. Releasing your curled toes that cling to the edge of the diving board.  Making the phone call. Pressing send on an email. Showing up at an event that scares the crap out of you. Walking up to the mic and asking the question.

So where do you get the guts? We all feel afraid the first time we did something. And discomfort is all part of growth and skill-building. I mean who was completely confident to sit down with their lunch tray at the cool table in junior high except for someone who had either done it before (and didn’t die) or the ones among us who are truly fearless (or completely delusional)?

But that’s not me and probably not you either.

I remember going to an event with my sister Chrissie a few years back. I have no memory of what the event was, I only remember that neither of us knew anyone except each other. My natural inclination was to skulk along the wall, dart over to the snack table and then slip out the back door (you will notice that I always make sure that snacks are part of any plan worth doing). But no, my sister Chrissie put out her hand to the closest stranger and said, “Hi, I’m Chris”.

Now, what kind of madness is that? Introduce yourself to a stranger? What? You think you’re MOM or something? This is the kind of activity that I felt completely uncomfortable about for years. If fact, when it was Girl Scout cookie time, I actually wrote out a script to try to sell cookies to my very own aunts!

Fast forward a few decades and I realized that my best shot at making any money and fulfilling my creative dreams was to be an independent illustrator, primarily licensing my art for cute and fun products. But that required making calls, sending cold emails, and showing up in person.

How was that going to work?

I had to figure out how to go from here (broke artist with a reasonable okay portfolio) to there (thriving artist with a few royalty streams at any given time). But I figured if I had learned how to draw well enough to go pro—a task that required many hours of practice, study and sheer grit to get better at it, then this part of the biz could also be practiced and studied too. But at the end of the day, it was the “sheer grit” part that took me to the next level.

Was I confident I could do it? Of course not. Was a I bundle of fear and uncomfortable dorkiness? Of course, I was! But the actual doing of the thing that made me the most uncomfortable was the thing that brought me to the thing I always wanted. Yeah, confidence.

And when you have done it enough times and by doing so you saw this thing called “success”, confidence takes over and you don’t need as many guts. You’ll remember, “oh, yeah, I did this before and I didn’t die”.

Confidence comes from accomplishment. Guts come from, well, your gut. When staying where you are no longer serves you and you’ve run out of excuses or diversions, conjure up a memory from when you demonstrated a little moxie (even if you have to go way back to our Girl Scout Cookie days)  and use that feeling to propel you to where you want to go.

I promise you won’t die.


PS. Right after I published this I started researching quotes by Aretha Franklin and this popped up:

“Be your own artist and always be confident in what you are doing. If you’re not going to be confident you might as well not be doing it”.

RIP Queen of Soul

How can I help you?

I spoke at my local writing association’s meeting last Saturday.

There’s nothing like 50 or 60 faces looking back at you when you step behind the lectern and hope to God Above that you don’t forget everything you were planning to say, or you know, projectile vomit.

Oh, sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t open a blog post with the phrase “projectile vomit”. Probably not good for the old SEO.

So back to my speech. I talked about how to build a strong platform for your work through bringing your best content and your best and fascinating self to the world.

Writers, like visual artists just want to know exactly how to do something. Not the making of the thing, we’re pretty good at that, but the getting it in front of your audience thing.

I mean, really, who even likes doing that? So, I talked about the process of finding your ideal (in this case) reader* and how to actually get in front of them.

But here’s the short cut version.

Find your fellow geeks.

Because if you are geeking out on something; be it a technique, a theme, subject matter or journey, there are people who want that too. And maybe you could provide a service, a visual representation or a story wrapped around your object of geeky-ness. We live in a world that seems disconnected at times but with the technology at our fingertips right now we can easily reach out to the fine folks we are aligned with who will totally dig—and celebrate—what we have to offer.

You don’t have to sell to the whole world and you certainly don’t have to “convince” anyone to buy. Because if you find it fascinating then others will too.

So, serve your fellow geeks. Figure out where they hang out. Meet them there. Join like-minded groups on-line or in person. Speak locally or write a blog that helps or entertains your people. And let them know that you not only “get them” but can help them embrace their own special selves.

Again, by serving your geeks.

 

*Just google “find my ideal reader/customer/collector” and you’ll see what I mean.

 

 

 

Cool Interviews with Cool People

I’ve been asked to take part in the Thriving Artist Summit that starts next week—25 creative types across several disciplines with tons of practical information on how to thrive as a creative professional. And it’s free!

Wanna be part of it? Here’s a link to get the videos sent to you (they are designed to be short and chock-full of juicy info). Just click here to gain access starting on July 2nd. My interview will be on July 16th!

Listening to others outside of our industry can bring you a new perspective and maybe a few new ideas to add to your bag of tricks. Love to know which ones you found the most interesting to where you are now—and where you want to go!

Ronnie Walter-Thriving Artist Summit
The Thriving Artist Summit

New York Recap: Surtex, Blueprint and More!

I spent 4 action packed days in New York, attending three trade shows dedicated to both art and artists and the stationery market. I also managed to sandwich in two museum visits, caught up with old friends, met business contacts live and in person and walked 27.5 miles. I know I tend to exaggerate, but if you don’t believe me I will gladly send you my FitBit stats.

Here’s are some of the things  I learned:

If you ever get the notion to try and see the Abstract Expressionist permanent collection at The Museum of Modern Art on an extremely rainy Saturday afternoon, please re-think your plans. I have done the legwork for you and it’s a bad idea. Too many soggy people crammed into the galleries, too many people sliding in between you and the paintings you really want to see and way, way, way too many people crowding around Van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” taking selfies.

I do, hoCartoon by Ronnie Walterwever, recommend slipping away from the trade shows on a sunny Monday afternoon to head to the Whitney with a fellow hooky-player to see the Grant Wood exhibit. Very satisfying, especially the delightful hike to the museum on the High Line and a “slice” the size of my head afterwards.

And if you get an invitation (no matter how sideways) to attend a thing at the Skillshare offices, you should go. Great program and super nice people.

So, besides those things, what else did you learn, Ronnie?

Let’s start with Surtex, shall we?

Okay, there was lots of discussion about how small it was compared to previous years and that is a fact. There were basically 3 rows of art licensing booths in increments of 10 X 10 feet (individual artists and agencies) plus one more row of similar booths in the “Atelier” section. The remaining booths (roughly 30) were the smaller booths reserved for first time exhibitors known as The Design District.

One row of these smaller booths faced the Stationery Show (with their backs to Surtex) and did not share the orange carpet with the rest of Surtex, so it was a little confusing whether they were part of Surtex, the Stationery Show or something else entirely; leaving it up to the newest exhibitors to take on the task of explaining to passers-by who they were. That simply did not serve those exhibitors well and frankly, the artists I talked to were disappointed in the placement—and the response from show management to their issue.

The rest of the Design District booths were tucked away at the very back past the Atelier section and they too were not served particularly well. I hope they had enough interaction with potential clients so it ended up being worth it to them and I would encourage those artists make the most of all of the connections they made.

The other topic of conversation is whether or not Surtex will be moving from it’s historic time slot in mid-May to early February to coincide with NYNow (the Winter New York Gift Show) and the National Stationery Show’s new date and location. So far that seems likely.

Everyone hates the idea of a show in NYC in February weather-wise, but it may get a new life if all three shows are happening at the same time. There are pros, cons and everything in between so it will be interesting to see how that plays out, especially as how it relates to Blueprint Shows (which I will get to in a minute).

So, beyond the size of Surtex and the discussion about timing, I heard all kinds of reports from some of the long-time exhibitors, particularly the agents. I heard comments that ranged from “this show sucked” to “this is the show I’ve been waiting for for ten years”. That’s a big gap. Casual observer that I am, I did notice that despite the complaints going in, it felt like a pretty active show by the end; energy and noise levels were up, and more than one exhibitor expressed lots of positivity, but I can’t say it was an outstanding show, more like “not awful”.

I also had an opportunity to pop into both Blueprint Shows (they ran two 3 day shows back to back, the second one concurrent with Surtex) and chatted with a variety of artists both new to exhibiting and old hands. Again, comments ranged from, “This was the worst show I’ve ever done” to “I’m rethinking any show next year” to “this is the best show I’ve ever done” and of course lots of comments that landed on various points on the map.

I hadn’t heard a concrete decision about whether Blueprint has any interest in moving to February to align with the other folks (I’m thinking not, from a few conversations— but who am I to say?) although I heard a few artists at Surtex say, “Well, I’m planning to do Blueprint next year” so if that is true, I’d suggest they get a space now as there is a limit to how many artists they can accommodate. But trust me, there will always be room at Surtex.

So, what have we learned here, anyway?

  • Some people will have great shows.
  • Some people will have disappointing shows.
  • Either of those scenarios do not always correlate with the quality of the art, the artist or the attendees— it just is.
  • At any given show whether you are selling auto parts, bee pollen or pot holders, some exhibitors are not successful because they either think being at a show is the only way to “make it”, they are premature for any show, or they were simply misguided along the way. Those people need to chalk it up as “a learning experience” * and dig deep into anything they can to salvage their time and expense. There’s always something positive to be gleaned from the experience.
  • It’s easy to fall into a “compare and despair” mindset at a show. You observe other exhibitors having the time of their lives while you feel like you have rearranged your business cards approximately 348 times just to look busy. You know the drill; you can’t compare your early shows with someone else’s 3rd or 7th or 17th. It takes time to develop relationships and there is a weird psychology to shows (and I’ll explore that idea in another post). Just remember that everyone starts somewhere. And there are lots of reasons why they are having a different show than you are. Plus, you have no idea if any of that enthusiasm or hilarity across the hall will result in any deals.
  • Everyone always says, “it’s all about the follow-up” and it’s true. But it’s not just following up on what potential clients told you to do (send me that baby design and that one snowman) but by nurturing the relationship over the next 6-12 months. And don’t forget to pay attention to the people you met who didn’t ask for anything specific as well; it could be a whole other story in a few months.
  • Good or bad show, you need to digest and evaluate what just happened.
    • Was your work in line with the companies you saw?
    • Was the whole experience too expensive for the results you are expecting? (you may not be able to answer this one for a while)
    • Did you feel comfortable in that scenario or would you prefer more one on one with a client— or hand the whole thing over to an agent?
    • Try to separate the emotional ups and downs, the tricky personal interactions, the preconceived ideas you may have had going in and get real about what happened (positive and negative) and what you want in the future.

So just like the new year, it’s time to buckle down and make progress with your plans. You are off the “but I have to get ready for the shows” treadmill, now’s the time to show what you’ve got!

I’d love to know what your reaction was to either of these events, just jump on to the comments here or you can always chat about it on my Facebook Page here.

*which tend to be expensive.

PS. Opinions and observations are my own.

 

 

 

 

The Answer Scale

It’s that time of year again. No, not the time of year when you start realizing that yes indeed, there will be a summer this year. Or if you’re in Florida, they are reminding you that hurricane season is right around the corner. Not those seasons!

If you’re an artist in the business of trying to secure contracts to work with amazing people who want to license (or buy) your amazing designs to use on their amazing products, you know exactly what time of year it is—it’s showtime, baby!

Between Surtex, Blueprint and Licensing Expo, the next few weeks are all about last minute preparations, packing, picking cute outfits, getting your nails done*, a few sporadic mini-panic attacks and constant low-grade worry—plus all that follow-up on the other side. Or maybe you’re like me and are attending to stay connected to the industry, meet and mingle with all those delightful people and absorb a trend or two. (In other words, my only panic is cute outfit selection and hope for a three-day good hair run.)

So, whether you are sitting behind a table at any one of those shows, emailing your work to a decision maker (or conjuring up the nerve to) I have good news for you. The responses you will hear do not have to be soul-crushing or career ending or anything of the sort. In fact, study this handy “Answer Scale” guide so you can figure out exactly where you are in the conversation.

And do you see the worst thing they can say to you? It’s “no thank you”. That’s not so bad, is it? Or a variation is, “it’s not right for us”. That doesn’t mean its not right for them ever, or not right for anyone ever it’s just not right for these people right now.**

So let’s review. “No Thank You” is the worst, with the best being some variation on (cue the angel chorus), “we’re sending a contract”. And each answer in between should be considered a win.

If possible, try to relax a little bit and take a tiny minute to congratulate yourself on what it took you to get to this place. And if you are at any of the shows, soak up as much inspiration and artist comradery as you can and learn how you might get more “we’re sending a contract” responses than “no thank you’s”.

And I’ll see you soon!

*twice a year whether you need it or not.

**And if they happen to say anything worse than “no, thank you”, you probably don’t want to work with them anyway, now do you?

 

Sorry, You’re not Lucky.

Original Painting by Ronnie Walter ©Ronnie Walter

A few weeks ago I had a coaching session with an artist trying to shift her business from one market to another. Several times in the conversation she mentioned how lucky she was to have such great clients and how lucky she felt about making such a good living. I suppose that luck could have something to do with it (I really don’t, but we’ll go there for the sake of argument).

After I heard her again tell me how much luck had to do with her success, I stopped her. And if you tell me how lucky you are, I’ll tell you the same thing.

You’re not lucky, you’re accomplished. You set the wheels of success in motion yourself. Maybe you met someone by chance, but you moved the conversation forward, you made the effort to bring something deeper to that random chat.

You sent out the work, made the call and followed up. You were the one that finished the job on time and wowed your customers. You were the one that set the goals, managed your schedule and showed up even when you didn’t quite feel like it.

That’s not luck. Luck is finding a twenty-dollar bill on the sidewalk. (But heart is trying to find the owner.) Luck is for people who think the rest of us are “lucky” for our success. Yes, sometimes the stars seem to align, and you meet the right person who needs your work at exactly the right time you showed it to them.

Sorry, still not luck.

That’s you making the creative work that resonates and staying connected “out there”. That’s you doing the hard work over and over and refining it until you see results.

You’re not lucky, you’re accomplishedand freakin’ amazing.

Remember that.