The next morning

So my allnighter went well, though I don't think I can call it an allnighter. I felt the need to be cozy warm and do something else than paint around 11 o'clock, so I opened the sofa bed and started looking up artist residencies and grants. I found so many opportunities within the little time before I decide to 'rest my eyes'... It is 9 AM and I just woke up.

Yet, to be in this environment in my waking moment has inspired me to stay today, and paint some more. It is a little chilly in here ( yeah, the heating system is down), so I changed into my extra tee-shirt and my extra sweater ( a very old black turtleneck I stole from my mother; it is ugly, loose, and so unflattering, but so cozy. I just can't get rid of it. ), as well as one of my scarves ( I have millions...) and off I go for another creative morning! I guess I found a new way of stimulating my creativity: getting out and changing my ordinary schedule.

We all have our triggers for our creativity; many artist and designers will confirm this. I personaly love this series from freelance designer Marc McGuiness. It adresses time management, creative rituals, and so many other tricks to make it possible to thrive as an artist. I love how he talks about this writer who needs a specific type of pen with a specific type of paper to write novels. This got me thinking about what my ritual was; I think I don't have a defined ritual, which might be the reason these days, my creative discipline is a little shaky! I remember I use to go get coffee at a certain time everyday, and then do a little doodling, later starting on the painting. But really, that is it. Will I have to start pulling allnighters? Have a sleepover ritual?

Anyway I'll think about it. Right now, my fingers are full of the ' get-painting-you-lazy-human' ants.

Keeping it out of my comfort timezone

And here I am at the studio, painting. It is now 9 o’clock, and I’m taking a little break, so to speak. I am here since 1 o’clock in the afternoon.  And it is good.

I decide to do two things today: pull an allnighter, and test one of my boyfriend’s theories, the Survival Kit.  He says you can survive in any situation with a tooth brush and a pair of clean underwear.  Coming from a traveler, I take this for the truth. I edited his idea into the Ultimate Artist Survival Kit:  a blanket, an extra tee-shirt, an extra sweater ( oh, yeah... most artists won’t tell you, but one of the things about a studio is that, inevitably, it is cold, because, inevitably, the heating is not on yet, even if october is here), a tooth brush and paste, the ever-so-important clean undies and your studiomate’s sofa bed.

But why pull an allnighter? Usually by now I would be out and going home, where I would take a shower and go to bed, my brain being exhausted by the painting day I just had. Yet, I would be more exhausted by the thinking: where to put this color? Is the painting good enough? How will it look? I remember, in art school, when I had homework for the next day, I sometimes painted late into the night to finish it. I was not thinking, just painting, because it had to be done.  My brain got into a surrealistic state where you just pour out whatever you got, because that is all you have left. I then went to bed really early in the morning, telling myself : ‘I’ll just hand in this thing. If I get a C, I’ll be happy’. The next day, when I looked at my work, I surprised myself because the work was actually good; it was raw, simple and personal. The filters had been removed by  the fatigue and the carelessness. I want to recreate this state today; I feel I need that careless feeling paired with the action of smearing paint on a surface.

I already worked on 3 paintings, and started sketches for a friend’s poetry book.  The little blank canvases are looking at me, serenely from the floor. I have a wood panel drying flat, splashed with toxic fluorescent green paint, and a huge 6 feet by 6 feet portrait behind me.  I did the underpainting for some sculpture paintings, and gessoed some surfaces. I’ve done more today than I have in the last two weeks.  I have given myself this time, and it is handing to me some great things.

Turns out the studio under ours is having a party, and I hear the music playing as if I was there.  It is very much fun to hear oldies and paint.  Make me think I am in the right place, at the right time. 

Obey your body and mind, and your body will obey you

We artists are very passionate individuals. Most of us spend hours, if not all our free time in our creative bubble, and we love it. It takes a great deal of discipline and work to make it as an artist, especially if you have other passions or another occupation.

I must say I sometimes overindulge the energy I have because I want to paint. Exhausted because I painted every night, I end up sleeping all week-end when that’s really the time I should be painting. Two full days are often more productive than a set of short creative sessions.

When I’m exhausted, especially mentally, I can’t paint, as many of you, I’m sure.  My personal challenge is to accept my human status and listen to my body. When he says sleep, I should go.  When he says stop and relax, I should go.  I need to accept I sometimes can’t paint.  This had me thinking about what would be the best painting schedule for me. How could I paint a reasonable amount of time per week, at least enough to call it a second career, having a full time job and a life?

To me, Saturday is sacred Nothing-to-do Day. I sleep in, I do my laundry, go out with friends: I live my life.  I love to bike ride, so if the sun is out, so are my wheels! Saturday is my day. No work, just play. When I was in highschool, I had to take a class about time management. It was the most boring thing ever. The only thing I remember from that class is you need to keep one day off in your schedule whatever you do. I wasn’t sure what the reason was at the time. Now I know it’s the only way to keep  your sanity. Besides, working 5 days a week and then going to your studio 2 days is a 7 day work week.  Even if art is fun, it is work. I found myself to be much more productive if I painted only on Sunday; relaxed and refreshed, I can paint for hours. I ususally produce more work than if I had went to the studio the day before as well.  Saturday is the last day of the week.  Waste it.

I’ve tried many other tricks: getting up super early, going to bed later, going to the studio straight after work, going back home for supper after work and then going to the studio, not painting all week but painting all weekend... It is a hassle. Yet, the best schedule is the one my body dictates: if I feel the energy, I go to the studio. Period. I’ve also noticed getting myself physically at the studio is often the hardest part. Just like creating a picture: the hardest part is to start.  As for getting up earlier, it is a battle; my biological clock wakes my mind at a certain time, wether I am physically awake or not. To feel good, I need at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep.  And still, not painting all week is just too hard!

I read somewhere that if you are an artist, you should go to the studio everyday, even if it means you’ll just sit around for 20 minutes. This works to an extent. That’s how you get yourself physically to work; going to the studio, and then telling yourself: ‘ Hey, I’m here, so why not do this little thing.’. That usually gets me going for hours.

It all comes down to knowing yourself and your body. The more you do, the better your art schedule will be. However, you need to be disciplined enough to stick to it. I’ve had those hassles, but it’s worth finding the one method that works for you, and finding your creative ritual ( which I will discuss in another post).

Got to let go of my computer. I’m leaving for the studio. 

Sketching, Thinking, Imagining

I used to hate to sketch. I can't say I love it now ( the act of applying paint is much more satisfying), but  I know the value it has, and I love the outcome.  I never sketched when I started painting; something in doing the same image twice didn't feel right. Then, in university, one of my teachers forced us into a thumbnail sketching exercise, from which I was able to use 2 or 3 images to paint some of my best works.

For some reason, I came back to my bad habit of not sketching before starting a painting. Today, I went to the studio and started on finishing a painting which I hadn't thought through. It is extremely dull at this point. I realized I was wasting my time and my paint. I didn't know where I was going, and even though that's sometimes a blessing in a creative process, too much in my case leads to an epic search for THE thing that will make the picture work.  Nothing I did worked out for this dull painting.

After an hour, I decided to put everything away.  I sat down at my new work desk ( which I found in the hallway of my building; some other studio was giving it away), and started on sketching thumbnails. It's the only solution I could come up with. My head was messy and so was my painting.

All these ideas came out of my head, into little scribbles. I browsed my family pictures at hand, and colored really elementary reproductions. I never spend more than 5 minutes on a sketch. To me, it's a sketch, not the work; I also need to place the colors and define composition more than decide exactly how the picture will look at the end. And the great thing about sketches is you don't care what they look like at the end, so you can draw over them as much as you want.

I was aligning my thought into a weird mind map, chaotic but organised, into these little images. I remembered some concepts I'd forgotten, motifs I don't use anymore, symbols and patterns I put aside. I realized I had ticks I had to get rid of, for the sake of originality.

 I decided to go back to the thumbnails.Yeah, this 2 hours of sketching was an amazing experience. I'm adding it to my weekly to do list.

The Perfect Book

My little brother bought this great little book of the internet, entitled The Perfect Bait. He’s studying animation, and loves to draw comics. He recommended I read it because he thought it was the best he’s read so far. In fact, this book is the ‘you can make it’ guide book and is so much more interesting than the ‘how will you pay the bills’ serenade. I thank my lil’bro for being so great to me by sharing his new found knowledge, which, in turn, I want to share with you. I strongly recommend you read this little jewel of a book, if you are a painter, a writer, a musician or any kind of artist.

The author of The Perfect Bait, Bobby Chiu, is a reknowned artist who has worked on many films and has initiated many artistic initiatives. His 75 page book is a no brainer. It comes with a little pep talk and a simple plan elaboration: 1) practice and hard work, 2) motivation, 3) get your art out there, 4) financial security and 5) finding and keeping your clients.

And how important are those 5 steps Chiu states !  You might want to catch on to his version of financial security and how to keep collectors interested (obviously the two last chapters of the book). These really had me thinking. His ideas are simple, yet clear, and to an extent obvious to anyone slighty interested in commerce and marketing of art. However, to be reassured I was on the right track and to see that the process is this simple is a great push to my motivation.  It got me officially started on the third step: getting my art out there.  

The great thing about animators and other ‘commercial’ ( this has no discriminating undertone to it, by the way, but for the sake of clarity, we need to use ‘the C word’ here – why is ‘commercial’ such a bad word in the field of  fine arts, anyway?) artists such as designers is their trade implies a business aspect  whereas fine art painters are often thought of as the clichéed excentric individual and indifferent to making money. At least, as I’ve said before, this romantic idea of art for art’s sake has followed me a long time until I realized we are not different from designers, but just have a different audience. Designers always made beautiful things too, there is no question about it. Therefore, their experience is often the best tool to adapt to our practice. This is as if you wanted to sell trucks, but learned the trade with a car salesman. This seems logical, doesn’t it?

Selling your work

I think this is one of the most puzzling questions to an artist. Most of us, as human beings, are tempted to sell our art emotionaly, pricing the work accordingly to the personal attachment we have to it or the degree of mastery it shows. Unfortunately, this is a mistake. Our jugement on ourselves is usually biased, and, well, the art world is a commercial market. You have to think business.  

So, herein, the 5 commandments of art selling:

          Of your art, you will detach yourself

This is obvious considering my introduction to this post. Yes, you hate that one and wouldn’t show it for the world. Yes, you love this other painting. Our works are sometimes like relatives to us. Our attachment real. But if you want to live of your art, you need to start considering it as what it is: in this case, a frame with coton fabric stretched over it. One will go, and others will come. Your pieces are not unique, because your creativity will never leave you, and therefore, they are not a rare object, have you poured your heart into them or not.

 A constant pricer you will be and receipts you will issue

You need to set a matrix for the pricing of your artwork. There doesn’t seem to be a particular rule ( and if I am mistaking please say so!), yet the rule of thumb seems to be to charge a certain amount per square inch.  This amount should increase with your experience and notoriety. Whatever mathematical or logical system you use, you have to stick to it. If you start selling, your art will take on value with time, according to the actual selling price of your art. If you sell your work cheaper because you don’t like it, you will be devaluating other works you’ve sold previously. This is obviously not very well looked upon in the business world.  You also want to issue receipts: they are proof of the value of your work at a given date. You need them for your taxes, and so does your buyer, most of the time.  Another common mistake is to sell cheaper to your relatives and friends. For the same work value reason, this is not a good idea, even though it is tempting.

 A contract you will always sign

This applies more to galleries, but it may be useful in other situations.  A gallery usually takes a commission  on your work they sold. You want to have all those dispositions in writting, so you know exactly how much they owe you.  They have to issue receipts, so if they go bankrupt, for example, you can prove you weren’t issued payment, should it happen. I’ve heard horror stories about artists having their work stolen; without a contract, this is hard to prove.  A contract should also be issued by you should a buyer ask for a payment settlement. This happened to me, recently. The buyer couldn’t pay up front.  I told him we could arrange, but we would have to sign a contract stating his first settlement, the full price of the work, and how long he had to pay the remaining balance, after which date the work was considered unsold and available again on the market. Make sure you specify the first settlement is non refundable. That way, if you keep a piece under reservation for six months, you will not have done so for nothing, should the buyer change his mind.  And please, never let a piece of art leave the studio before it is fully paid.

   Archiving you will prioritize

Before setting up a show, make sure you have taken pictures of the new work you’ve produced, taken the measurements and added the pieces to your list of available work. If you don’t, you’ll regret it if you sell anything. Your portfolio needs to be frequently updated. It is a horrible experience to have to take pictures of 4 years of work at the same time, trust me on this. You’d rather take a dozen pictures at a time.

Thank your buyers you will gladly do

After all, they are enabling you do make a living from your passion. Be greatful.

Vernissage and Opportunities

One of the things I love about art is how it brings people together.  As an artist, you also meet lots of interesting people, namely other artists, especially when you are the one showing. A vernissage is a great opportunity. I met great individuals at my last show, many of them, emerging artists, like me.

Because it was part of our building’s open door event, we had to organize the vernissage and the show. The fun thing about this is you can then use this opportunity to your best advantage on all levels, which might not be the case in a gallery.

My studiomate is an expert of vernissages. She has got it down to an art. Here is her kit: a printed portfolio, business cards, a golden book, blank receipts, a smile and a quick little discussion about your artist statement.

The portfolio will show potential buyers the works of art which are not part of the show you are having a vernissage for. You will then have a chance, if they are willing, to set a later date to show them a particular piece if you don’t have it at hand. This is where the business cards comme in handy; instead of running around for a pen, you slip a card in their hand ( of course, you may hand them out to anyone who wants one also). If you do have the piece nearby, take it out. It might end up in a sale... and don’t be shy; timidity never sold a painting.

The golden book has a double purpose. First,  visitors can write down their impressions. Needless to say visitors who don’t like your work won’t bother. You are assured of having that little encouragement you sometimes need from strangers when you get doubtful, because it inevitably happens. Also, you may invite visitors to leave their email adresses for future newsletters. Politely asked, most people won’t be offended, and will politely decline if they are not interested. This is a crucial part of your network development; you absolutely need to get out of your circle to find potencial buyers, because your family and friends won’t be buying your art forever.  Only send emails to individuals who have given you permission. Make sure you mention in every newsletter you send that the recepient may unsuscribe from your sending list. Not only will you be better considered, it is also part of what internet users call ‘netiquette’ ( You will find many posts and references on the internet concerning this topic. I encourage you to read about this if you’re thinking about using the internet as a part of your marketing strategy) . If anyone asks to be removed from your list, please do so as promptly as possible.

Blank receipts have to be in your studio at all times. You never know when you will sell a piece, and you need to be able to produce a receipt, especially for larger pieces. Some buyers are investors; the receipt, as their proof of purchase, is very valuable to them.  Also have whatever legal papers you think you need: contracts, authenticity certificates... It really is up to you, but the more written material you have, th better it usually is, even though the receipt is really the only absolute necessity.

The list of works will help you keep track of what you sold, the dimensions, for how much, and when. This is basic data you really want to keep.

Your smile will say a lot about you to visitors. Potencial buyers like nice people, it’s no surprise. With your smile, you will get visitors interested in your artist statement when you start to describe what you do. In other words, you will be sharing your passion. I think this is the best part of all.

Oh, yeah, the new dress I got for the vernissage was a lot of fun too!

A Little Thank You Note

Last week, the building I rent a studio in had an open doors weekend.  Needless to say my studiomate and I have jumped on the occasion, and  transformed the space to make it more gallery like. First, we patched all the holes in the walls, and painted it a neutral matte grey for picture taking.  We then proceeded to clean up the studio, and set up our show.  Everything was quite nice, at that point. We still had to make a few minor ajustments, but we were ready. And I came home with a great sense of accomplishment.

However, I don’t want to give you some motivational talk in this post. I’d rather just leave you some food for thought. 

I can never stress enough how much work putting up a show is. We had 2 very important helpers: my studiomate’s friend played photographer for our portfolio pictures, and J. came over to help us plan our space for the show.  I think our show was only better because of these two men and their generosity.

Our photographer kindly came to take pictures with his latest model Nikon, a beautiful camera. He offered to fix our photos for us in Photoshop. We are paying him, but much less than it would have cost to rent the equipement to do it ourselves. The whole process took one hour and a half. We had fun, he had fun, and we all went for a snack afterwards. His help was very much appreciated.

J. also had great ideas for hanging the art. It was great to have an outside view of our space. I realize we weren’t thinking about how people would interact with the space before he showed up and insisted on creating angles to break up the linear walls.

These episodes made me remember how greatly personal projects depend on the help we can get from other people. Art is a huge project, and because you can’t be good at everything, well, friends are a great alternative!

Thank you for your kind help, J and J !

Money in the Piggy

You’re scared of a politician’s face printed on paper?  

First things first,  my conception of money is as follows: it is a tool. Simply. It is a tool which simplifies the process of exchange in between two parties in a business transaction.We invented it the same way we invented the hammer. You may think I am simplifying too much, but this blog is not about world politics and finance, it is about how you, as an artist, can make it in the art world.  And so, this is the only concept you need to consider.

Once you acknowledge your knew tool, you have to know how to use it properly, which goggles to wear and what are it’s accessories. I am often looked at in a bizarre way when I say I rent a studio. Some people can’t figure out how I can afford it. Well, that’s all part of artsy living’s choices!

This series  will be about how to make the most out of your money, as much or as little as you may have.  This won’t be a cut-a-coupon-save-a-buck section. Those are all over the Internet. I will do a survey of some money savings tips, because it is inevitable, but this won’t be the core of this blog.  Here again, the secret is to think it through, and choose the things you think are relevant to your situation.

Selling your work

Stay tuned for these other posts 

The Costco effect

Needs, needles and desires

Hot cooking

Love of the Trade

Socialite

Honey and Sweetness

It's that time of year again

TIme Saving Life Savers

I love to have comments on my blog. And so, I am answering today a reader's question : ' How do you suggest maximizing your time ?'

Unfortunately, I am not going to write a post presenting you with THE recipe. This is my recipe, which up to date has proven to be effective enough to enable me to paint about 20 hrs a week. That is, when I am disciplined enough to go through with it.

I was thinking about what to answer to this very good question, and one post won’t be enough. So many of the things you do have the potencial for being time savers. You only have to think them through. Surprisingly enough, time management has as much to do with the way you live your life as with the way you plan your everyday obligations and your art making.

The basic idea to time management, to me, is finding a double purpose to all you do. Therefore, theoretically speaking, your time will have doubled. This is a principle you must keep in mind while reading this blog.

I will elaborate this theory with specific topics in the following series:

Find a job the suits your purpose ( Time saved: 40 hours)
Obey your body and mind and your body will obey you (Time saved : Unlimited)

How utopian are these ideas? Very, very utopian. I’ve said it before: balance is fragile yet achievable. What I haven’t mentioned is that the scales keep going from one side to the other, and they always will. You will only be trying to temper the balancing, because if you stop it, you might end up sea sick. Some weeks, one time saving trick will work better than the other week. Other weeks, you will sit on the couch and do nothing. The important things is to keep going, and whenever you can, try to double your time.

After doing that, you may be able to produce some art, which, in any case, will have you energized for the next blitz. I always feel like it's worth all the thinking when my paintings are almost finished. And 24 hours is finally enough in a day.

Full-time fun and transferable skills

I think most of us are scared of really plunging into art because we are afraid we will have to sacrifice too much of our lives to have this little glimpse of success. Some artists, and I have to admit I myself thought that way 2 years ago, think that to be an artists and really strive, you need to do it full time. If you don’t, it’s just too hard. Most of us are afraid of quitting their full-time job for the uncertain, wreackless and unforgiving world of art making. But that’s just a philosophy issue.

As a painter, one of my greatest sources of frustration was to have a 'to-pay-the-rent' job. Because it is necessary to have one for many good reasons, until you can live of your art, you need to find a job which fulfills at least one of the following: learning skills relevant to your dream or fulfilling another passion. This is important as much for your sanity as for time management.

I was very nervous when I graduated from art school. I went to Italy as my last course, and I think that lurking “will I make it” idea was already making it's way to my prefrontal cortex. It drove me nuts. I really loved everything I saw out in Italy; it is beautiful, and so astonishingly inspiring. But to me it also was a sort of end point, and I dreaded to come back home as much as I missed it. When I came back, I hit a wall and almost let go, I have to admit. I did as everyone seemed to do: I found a lucrative job which didn't need any special qualification. I survived a year, painting here and there, with a sweet and sour aftertaste in my mouth. How great was it to paint, but how awful was it to have to go back to this repetive, boring, soul killing job? And for what? The rent? Yes, it was for the rent. It seemed I lived only to afford that roof over my head. I wasn’t unhappy, but I wasn’t happy either; I was bored. My frustration came from the job itself, and not the fact I was loosing important paint time. I couldn't find meaning in this job I had, and thus, my motivation at all levels was suffering. That is what a 'to-pay-the-rent' job is; having to spend so much of your life doing something that brings you no gratification. If you find a job in which you feel you are evolving in some way or in which you are happy, you won't feel like your 40 hrs of work are a waste. After looking for better employment, I ended up in this small office with great collegues. This completely changed my world. I still have a full time job, and you know what? I don’t want to stop.

When you choose your job, no written law says you need to hate it or not earn something more than your salary. You will be spending so much time there that you need to find the intrinsic motivation 

( this will be discussed in another post) to what you are doing, whatever it is, and of course, do something that will bonify your competencies as an artist. You don't need to work in a museum. You can find a job which requires you to develop some aptitudes or knowledge which you can transpose into your art career. This is what we call transferable skills. Personaly, my present job requires I write a lot and assist in project management.

I’m really learning how to write calls for proposals and how to plan and implement long term projects. This last thing is a major benefit. It also confirmed my entrepreneur personality. A painting is a short-term project, an exhibit is a mid-term project and an art career is a long-term one. Acquiring these skills elsewhere makes it easier to project into the future and planning my art career. The more I learn, the more the wall disapears, and I realize all I was missing was really the method to cross it.

Artist are not free souls with no specific training. They are versatile individuals. The set of competencies you need to be an artist, professionaly anyway, can go on for pages and pages : creativity, problem solving, planning skills, accounting skills, marketing skills, social skills, writing skills... Artists need to think organically as well as plain rationally.

One of my teachers in college, I’m not sure which one, said that Picasso was not a great artist, but merely a great businessman and market analyst. Apparently, everytime his career was in a lull he would come up with a daring concept to shock spectators thus renewing his notoriety.

How about taking a few seconds to assess your own bagage:

-What skills have you acquired in past employment? How do they serve you now?
-What skills is your present job teaching you? How does this serve you?
-What skills do you yet have to achieve? Where could you achieve them?

The triangle

All of us have had this conversation:

‘Mom, I want to do Art in college.’

‘But, honey, wouldn’t you rather be a dentist?’

‘No, I want to draw and paint.’

‘But how will you pay the bills?’

I was lucky enough to know it was going on in my parents mind, but never really had the conversation: they said I should do what made me happy.  I have had my lot of weird glances from other people, though,  for responding ‘Art Degree’ to anyone asking what I was doing in college.  ‘‘ BFA? Wow! That’s amazing! But how will you get a job?’’  I heard that last one thousands of times.  My own grandmother, who did Art School in the 40s, always told me all artists die poor.

This frustrated me to the highest level, and as long as I can remember, I have had that ‘I’ll show you!’ subconscious reaction which translated into peaks of emotion  in my chest, as if my heart wanted to pull out and scream:   ‘‘ You are SO wrong! ’’ .

Art is a calling, the same way being a doctor or a research biologist is.  We don’t do it for the money, and that is that. We should be saying to all who doubt what we do to go on with their lives and stop worrying about us. 

If I have learned something over the last 2 years (yeah, it’s been this long since I graduated), it’s that you need to find balance. This balance is fragile yet achievable.  This is what I call artsy living; it is the series of choices or ways of life you take on to make your dream accessible.

Let’s start with the basics and be overly intellectual about this.

An art career, and by extension artsy living,  can be summarized into a triangle, as many things in life can.  Just like fire needs oxygen, something to consume and heat to burn,  to successfully persue an art career, you need three things:

Take one away, and away goes this wonderful dream of yours. 

The first thing I will add is that the cash mention does not mean you need to be rich or marry for the money; it merely means you need to be sheltered, fed, clothed, and sometimes go out with friend to enjoy what you have and their company. Basically, you need the kind of money that will keep you HEALTHY, mentally and physically.  You could refer yourself to the Maslow hierachy of needs ( yet another triangle) to illustrate my point : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maslow's_hierarchy_of_needs.

The cash, to me, takes care of the two first levels, and permits the third. A little money permits you to  go out with your friends every once in a while and enjoy it, which will not be the case if you are hungry ( if you are like me you’ll probably spend the extra money to buy a piece of clothing for your niece, which she absolutely does not need). Wether you like it or not, you need to see your family. Personaly, it costs me 20 dollars to go back to my hometown. I need these 20 dollars.  After the social needs, in Maslow's triangle, comes self-esteem, which is crucial for any entrepreneur, and on the last level, creativity. It is common knowledge you have to get your basic needs out of the way if you want to start creating, wether you are an artist or not.

I have an appartment I love and a studio I rent monthly, I  eat very well and I am not rich. I simply have tricks and make choices ( which I will discuss in other posts) to enable me to have a creative space and fill this need I have to draw and paint.  

The second point is time. Time to create, time to breathe, the time spent at work, the time you need to take care of yourself and others, boyfriend or girlfriend  time (if you're in a couple)... So many things and so little time. I always said days should have 48 hours. Then again, we’d want 72. Time management is a big issue for artists; many blogs and books are available to you to find that perfect balance between your passion and your everyday obligations. However, they are not all effective.

The third ( but far from least) element  is really hard work. It’s no secret. Artists who make it are the tough ones. Remember that.