A Different Measure of Success
A Different Measure of Success
The little black velvet notebook reappeared and I thumbed through it. I had called it The Adventure Book and at the top of each page, there was an idea I’d written there at some point. I don’t remember why I decided to do that or why I stopped but I assume it was meant to encourage the development of each idea.
In re-reading these ideas from I don’t know how long ago, I was struck by how many of them I’d actually made happen. Yes, I put on a mask show. Yes, I wrote a play about Victoria Woodhull. Yes, yes, yes. And on and on. Similarly, I came across the notebook I used to use to organize my theatre company and similarly there were pages of ideas for projects and similarly, I had realized a fair number of those projects. Between these two notebooks, I had a documentation of my past hopes and ideas and it became clear that without referring to these documents, I had made many of them happen. It turns out I am wildly successful at realizing my ideas. I’m kind of proud of myself really.
The thing is, by most measures, I couldn’t call myself particularly successful. My shows rarely draw big audiences. My book is only self-published in podcast form. My podcasts don’t do big numbers. My blogs don’t either. My music does such small numbers that Spotify won’t pay me for it anymore. When I post these things on social media, many times only my mother likes and comments. (Thank you, Mom! You’re a champ!) I haven’t received any awards. And when I submit for grants and residencies and such, I am mostly rejected. I don’t say this to talk myself down; It’s just that by most standard measures, we could not call me particularly successful. I’ve made a kind of peace with all that. I am dedicated to making art and art adjacent things and if I’m doing that, I’m doing pretty well.
But running across these notebooks, both of which I’d date at about twenty years ago, I realized that there’s this other metric for success. This measure of achievement.
Did I make money from these things? Not much, no. Did I find fame and fortune? Not even close. Did I win accolades and approval? Nope. But did I make a lot of the things I set out to make? Yes. Did I honor my own ideas? Absolutely. In the last twenty plus years, I have often achieved what I set out to achieve, even without approval or support. When I opened those notebooks and saw what I was looking at, my heart sank a little, imagining I’d be looking at a graveyard of ideas. Instead, I found a glimpse of a garden in its early days when there were just seeds and I saw where I planted them and then how they grew.
Almost nothing goes to waste. This is my kind of success.
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Originally published at http://artiststruggle.wordpress.com on July 9, 2024.
