On feeling like a failure

And where we find self worth

I’m fairly certain that any marketing professional would tell me that sending out this essay is the worst possible thing I could do for my “brand”.

I have toyed with the idea of writing this for months but have repeatedly stopped myself; for the above reason, yes, but also in fear of sounding moany and victim-y. I don’t want this newsletter to be a pity party.

But, ultimately, I created this substack as a place to share honest, vulnerable writing about my life just as it is - not just endless marketing promotions - and I want to stay true to that. I am also not interested in projecting any kind of false illusion of perfection that might make others feel bad about themselves.

So, here we are, here is the truth:

The last six months in my career have been the worst/ hardest/ scariest I can remember in the 15 years I have been a working artist. I have barely sold any paintings. I have had no commercial commissions. I have been rejected repeatedly. I have been ghosted countless times by promising sounding opportunities I was excited about. I have struggled to pay bills for my family, never mind to buy paint.

I have felt, at times, like an absolute failure.

Me with the wildflowers, by Antony Sojka

I have felt many other things, too - unrelenting financial stress, despair, self-doubt, panic that I am approaching 40 with a career that seems to be going backwards, envy. Oh, the envy!!!!

It will not surprise you to hear that spending time on Instagram has made the envy categorically worse. Seeing other artists on Instagram doing well - selling out shows, working with multiple galleries and fancy art fairs, landing exciting collaborations - has brought out the ugliest emotions in me. I watch these careers seemingly soar and I feel such deep longing and frustration that it knocks me over. In calmer moments I can remember: Who knows what is really going on for these people. Maybe others feel the same way about me. Certainly I know that the entire art industry, from top to bottom, is suffering at the moment. I can’t be the only one in this boat. It’s not personal.

But social media, of course, has a way of making you feel like the only one failing.

Art is such a strange bird because, unlike other industries, there is no ladder, no clear trajectory. No “experience = pay rise” equations. The needle spins with abandon, in all directions, and there are no promises or security. I have always known this, and embraced it. It is the price I pay to do the work I love, body and soul. To live fully and authentically as me, an artist. My whole career - and those of my creative friends - has been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. I imagine that many of you can relate. It’s the nature of the beast and this is not my first rodeo. I have had times when I have earned great money and worked with exciting people. I have had times when nothing is happening and me and my young family had to move in with my parents. Peaks and valleys. I have developed a thicker skin. I am strong willed.

Two things are true: I would be making art regardless of whether or not it is my job AND it actually is my job and I need to earn a living. The popular narrative, of course, is that of the starving artist. Why should artists expect to be paid if they enjoy what they do? The value of art chronically belittled in our society.

I have always managed to find my way through all of this.

But this time feels different. This time I have questioned, constantly, if this is now rock bottom, a sign to quit and “grow up”. I wonder if it is my age, a kind of midlife crisis, a desire for more freedom and security for me and my young family. I have felt deep panic to be close to 40 and in this position. I have cried, a lot.

I have had bad days when I have taken this fallow period as a judgement on my abilities - as a pronouncement from the universe that I am just not good enough. I have also had other, stronger, days when I have been able to remain robust in my self worth, to stay determined, to retain pride in my work. To remember that financial reimbursement is not the only metric by which to measure the value of art.

To remember that professional success is not the only metric by which to measure a life.

Because this is the other thing I have been thinking about: How has a career crisis torn down my identity and brought me to my knees so dramatically? Financial stress aside - although this is very real, and it is hard to function at all without financial security - this chapter has made me realize that I must. lean almost entirely on my career for my sense of self worth. Do you feel this way? When I take a step back I realize that, of course, this is completely baked into the capitalist world we live in, this idea that we are only as good as the work we do. How productive we are. How fat our bank accounts. We are trained to be this way.

I thought I was above this; that I was an artist living freely outwith the system, a yogi who understands that we are all born worthy and deserving just as we are. But I see now that I have been completely at its mercy. Humbling! This realization has given me some of my power back. Has propelled me to shift my approach to the situation, and find my agency within it.

Here is what has helped:

1. Focusing my attention on the other parts of my life which bring me a sense of self worth. For me, these are: making my kid feel safe and loved, helping my friends to feel supported emotionally, trying to be a loving sister, daughter, wife. When I pay attention, these relationships fill me up and my roles within them help me to feel so valuable. Truly, I feel rich in love.

2. Letting go of ego and looking for part time work. When I left my waitressing job in my late 20s to pursue art full time I felt such an incredible sense of freedom and gratitude. I have been clinging on to that, stubbornly, even though the need for part time work now is so obvious. I am trying to let go of black and white “forever” thinking, and get back to doing whatever is needed in any given moment, without judging myself. (FYI I would never judge someone else in this way. We can be so unkind to ourselves).

3. Planting new seeds. I have been thinking of other careers I would like to pursue alongside my art, long-term. For me these things are astrology, counseling, yin yoga, herbalism. Until I can afford to do these courses and re-train, I am reading and learning myself. (If anyone knows of scholarships in these fields please let me know!)

4. Painting! Lately, the only time when I am not questioning the worth of my work is when I am actually painting. Because when I am painting I am not in my thinking brain at all and it is glorious. When I am painting I know deep in my bones that this is what I should be doing. I remember that making art is my true self. I have found my way back to a sense of play - using what I have, painting on sheets with the dregs of old paints, drawing with my kid. I am in the middle of a local residency this week (my first!) and it is reminding me how much value and joy there is, just in the making.

Playing around

These things are helping but honestly I’m still in it, feeling my way through. I am not trying to wrap this up in a pretty bow and spiritually bypass the hard bits. I don’t have a solution that fixed everything or a cute “happy ending” for you right now - although I choose to trust that good things are just around the corner and I’ll share those, too. And then, almost certainly, another challenge! Such is life. Such is art.

I feel lucky to be on the wild ride of both.

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If you are in a career slump and feeling low, I see you. We’ll ride the wave together.

Thank you for being here and letting me be vulnerable. Thank you so much for supporting me and my work :)

Wishing you a peaceful day, rich in love!

Katy x