Does this situation seem familiar to you? You get to the studio and sit down to work, and it’s like there are three radios playing talk shows in the background:

The first radio is playing a station programmed by museums and mega-galleries. Hourly, you hear reports on sold-out shows, well-reviewed exhibitions, and private events attended by the top 200 living contemporary artists. On one hand, it might be advantageous to know the who’s-who of The Art World; on the other, listening makes you feel powerless, excluded from a Big Art Party to which everyone else was invited. You speculate on how those artists got there, and wonder if there’s a scheme for commercial success that you could copy.

On the second radio, the station’s host and her guests are discussing what they think of creative folks. They’re laughing and talking over each other, saying things like, “I don’t get it, you went to school for art?” and “Wait, wait—two thousand dollars for a drawing—you have GOT to be kidding me. My kid could do that!” and “It’s nice for you to have your little studio time while the whole world is burning down.” Annoyed by their dismissive mischaracterizations, you’ve dialed the station’s call-in number many times to tell them they’re completely missing the point, but no one ever answers.

The third radio is broadcasting content in ASMR-style breathy undertones, but its effect is the opposite of soothing: Drawn-out murmurs give voice to assessments like, “Real artists don’t have day jobs,” “Taking time for creative work is selfish,” “Projects that don’t earn money are worthless,” and “You’re too old anyway.” Fundamentally, you know these are lies: I’ll just ignore them, la la la la la... Yet in spite of your efforts the whispered reproaches ooze into your thoughts.

Meanwhile, you’re trying to work.

Are you getting much done? Do you feel confident, energized, and fulfilled? Do you leave knowing that you’ve accomplished something valuable? With all this vexing chatter, who would?

If you recognize that these transmissions don’t pertain to your worth as an artist but are still frustrated by falling short of your own expectations, you’re not alone.

If you think the most visible frameworks for professional “success” (ex., MFA + hyper-networking + blue-chip representation = wealth and respect) seem neither dependable nor realistic, you’re not crazy.

And if you feel apprehensive about advancing in a field whose top tier sometimes includes museum-board arms dealers, handsy curators, unethical critics and publishers, and gallerists who don’t pay their artists—I get it. Me too.

Creative work requires that we take all sorts of public and private risks—while remaining faithful to our vision and our ambitions—though most of us were never explicitly taught how to do that. Instead, we internalize problematic cultural messages, with subsequent doubts and worries that manifest in intriguing ways, like being too busy accommodating other people’s agendas to go to the studio, or waiting until we’re “in the right mood.” We blow application deadlines because we “probably weren’t going to get it anyway,” and make outreach plans but wait (…and wait…and wait) for a more auspicious moment to enact them. Bummed out by our own inefficacy, we numb ourselves with Instagram, or Netflix, or scrolling for the perfect new shoes. Week by week, as those lost hours add up you’ve probably wondered—

Should it be this hard? Maybe I’m not [creative, dedicated, talented, passionate, disciplined] enough…

Nevertheless, you don’t just throw up your hands and quit (even though you might consider it now and again), because you can’t. Deep inside, a little voice sings out: Stay with it. Try again. Make something!

So let’s change the question: If the status quo isn’t serving you, how can you find a way to get your work done and feel good about your practice? There are any number of approaches: You might find support in books, podcasts, or videos that inspire you and help you develop new skills (see the Resources page for more info); you might join a group—like a collective or a regular critique meeting—whose membership helps with accountability and feedback; or you might try coaching, either with me or with another coach who is a good fit for what you’ve got going on.

The important thing is to connect with the strategies and people who can assist you to see new possibilities, restore your creative vitality, and move toward your goals in ways that make you feel more liberated, joyful, and self-assured.

The coaching style that I trained in is based in neurobiology (how and why the brain works as it does), and anchored in ontology (the study of essence or being). With a specific emphasis on compassionately observing and shifting thoughts and behaviors, this modality enables me to support creative folks exactly where they’re at in their practices and careers.

Each artist’s situation is unique, and as a consequence every coaching session is tailored to the individual. Yet there are some key components to the process, and if we work together we’ll:

• identify your desires for your professional and studio practices
• illuminate and honor your core values so that you can stay grounded
• craft goals that move you forward with integrity
• develop skills that build resilience for when things get tough
• find additional supports that strengthen your community and sense of connection
• celebrate all the big and small wins that get you a little freer
• build confidence through practice, so that you are able do all of this independently.

What if the “one neat trick” is to tune into the radio stations that play in your head—and by putting your full attention on them, discharge their power and move more fully toward your own?

This is the collaborative, dynamic work that we can do together. We’ll investigate who you truly are as an artist, and explore the ways in which you can demonstrate your creativity with clarity, focus, ease, and grace—no matter what chatter might be going on in the background.

But wait, there’s more!

There’s a significant big-picture aspect to all of this: Study after study shows that artists’ labor has a profound impact on quality-of-life issues, from the individual (such as enhanced empathy and emotional resilience) to the widespread (like lowered crime rates). For example, did you know that neighborhoods with more arts activities also see increases in school test scores? Or that arts alumni are 2x more entrepreneurial than the national average? Or that 81% of Americans say that the arts are “a positive experience in a troubled world”? If you look at the research, one thing is clear: Artists change the world. I support my fellow artists in making these contributions, because collectively our work is vital, influential, and imperative. What you do matters—for all of us.