So you want to be a punk rock artist?

Some thoughts on being a punk rock artist in 2020, for whoever needs to hear it (mostly, myself).

Pay attention to who’s in the room! Plenty of people won’t be. Your real work is to redirect your mind from the innate need to belong to a “tribe,” any tribe—back to your art. You’ll make a lot of art alone in your room. But that doesn’t mean the room will remain empty.

Back in the day, humans without a tribe to belong to were usually, very quickly, dead. You’d most certainly be the dead one if you were a cave human (You’re too weird and too curious; if you’re reading this, you’re probably also highly sensitive). But it’s 2019. Almost 2020. I promise: You won’t die if you leap. Risk it. Then what? Don’t freak out. Focus on who’s in the room with you. One person? Fifty? 150? Doesn’t matter.

What matters: Who’s actually in your ring? Who’s taking the same hits? Who’s nearby with a pack of bandaids or a burrito?

Looking above or below is usually a mistake. It’s tempting, but basically just an ego-trick that’ll make you either feel like an ant or a god, and you’re neither. Sorry pal. You’re simply a human with a guitar/paint brush/camera/baby/whatever. Nothing more or less. Look Adjacent. Yep, adjacent is the ticket. This requires that you chill out on the whole competition vibe. I mean it. Look next to you with clear eyes and your static view shift into kaleidoscope mode. This is is the beauty of collaboration, of getting out of your own mind. This is where life gets interesting and generous and wild.

Give a helping hand to this adjacent human, the one in the room. Receive. It’s like breathing (you only think you have forgotten how). Give these new friends your full attention. Pay no mind to who is not in the room (they are asleep to your heart and you aren’t in charge of waking them). They are happy where they are. Let them be. Touring, you will meet the ones who set your chest on fire. They are awake to themselves and to your weird, damaged, boisterous, crazy (and yes, lovable) spirit. Pay attention! Soon they will be family and I mean that in the real way. Make art but also consume art. Be choosey yet voracious. Your heart softens and your brain quiets as you see the world is BIG and ALL art has a life of its own. Some artists are alive now and some have been dead a long time (they are still very much alive, too).

Didn’t you want to stay “alive” like those dead artists did? Didn’t you want to talk to someone else, beyond the realms of time and space, after your body had rotted away? To repay the artists who spoke to you as a child (when you were alone, afraid, without a tribe)? is there anything better than knowing your words will maybe transcend this linear life, if only to touch one awkward teenager, 50 years from now? In your darkest moments, think of that awkward teenager.

This is the truth: Many people say the same thing with their art but in a different way. That’s the beauty of it. Why would that discourage you? Now you don’t have to try so hard to be different. Remember: Not all art hits the heart in the same way, at the same frequency, and you can only say what you have to say in your own way. Strongly question any human that says they “have nothing to say” to the world. They aren’t bad, they are lying to themselves. You lied to yourself when you tried to be part of that first tribe, remember?

Let’s be real: There is an art to being an amazing bus driver and to making the best cheese or the coolest song. There is an art to being the kind of parent who inspires their kid to change the world. Maybe you make these wacky dog sweaters and they are the cutest dog sweaters. There is an art to everything under the sun. The human race needs a million ways to hear and see and touch YOUR SPECIFIC art, all kinds. Everything’s been done and that’s the real freedom, hear me out! Not all humans can tolerate the fear or risk of being as naked as you are, over and over again, in this room of three, this room of 350, 3,500. This doesn’t make you better than anyone else. I REPEAT: YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE. THAT MEANS NO ONE IS BETTER THAN YOU.

You’re just awake to the fear and the joy and probably your own death. Congrats, sucker! You won’t be any happier necessarily, you’ll just experience a wider range of emotions on this planet. That means more pain too. Some will want to live through you. That’s Ok. Others will be woken up by your noise. They wake up to their own pain/love/joy/desire. That’s the best! This is why you’re addicted. You can be addicted to destruction or you can be addicted to creation. You already tried the former.

So be humble. Not everyone can go to the moon, OK? It’s lonely and scary and the toothpaste floats away. It’s tedious and insane sometimes. Money is a thing. You decided you were going to be an artist, and you did, holy shit. Isn’t that kind of mind bending? Remember: No one is here to clap for you in that regard. You didn’t become an artist to be patted on the head. In fact, you’re making many other humans uncomfortable. Sure, some people will be super stoked on what you’re doing. Others will recoil or dismiss. It will feel like they are rejecting you and they are. That’s a gift, too. You’re agitating the norm. Finding the outer corners.

Be satisfied with what you made. But remember, you did this with the help of SO MANY people, the adjacent ones, the ones who are awake to their own selves, to your same frequency, for this minuscule time you share on earth. This is your real reward. Giving of your full self to other full selves is all there is. Being present to those who showed up in the room is all there is. This is what you signed up for when you decided to actually live, silly butt! Make the art! Live live live, fail and soar and wonder why. Doubt and fear are constant friends. It’s fine. Nothing has gone wrong here. Give the art! Again, return to who is there.