The other day, Canadian artist and fellow Tumblr-ite Kimberly Parker posted some thoughts about artists comparing themselves to other artists and how to go about it positively and instead of being all doom-and-gloom about it (my words, not hers). It’s a quick read, so go ahead and read it.

Without getting too personal, I, like so many others come with some emotional baggage. And I’m constantly battling them in order to get off my ass and get things done. Couple that with the fact that I’m six years – YEARS – behind where I should/could have been, and a little extra weight gets put into that baggage. I talk about those six years, in this blog post, but to provide a quick summary: I didn’t draw seriously very much. I was busy trying to make money composing and teaching music. I’d do a couple pieces here and there, but it was mostly scribblings and missing the hell out of drawing comics.

I think discouragement can come easily to the self-critical artistic type, of which there are many. I personally know I could have been somewhere by now if I’d not taken a different path. I know my skills would be six years better had I not taken that break – especially knowing that I was making leaps of improvements before the break. Now, I’m seeing younger artists – sometimes as young as 16 to 23! (damn them!) – with more refinement in their work than I had at their age. And, of course, my first reaction is to get pissy. Then jealousy creeps in. Then despair.

Had I only been more focused when I was younger. Had I only not stopped drawing for six years. If only I hadn’t been distracted by my other interests, no matter how personally invested I was in them. If only I wasn’t still so reliant on a dayjob. If only, if only… I could be doing what I was meant to do so much sooner, and I’d be so much better at it by now…

Blah, blah, blah.

This is the hole that is easy to dig for oneself. A hole of doubt, misery, depression… all of which can suck the motivation out of you. It takes will to climb out of this hole, which, in and of itself, requires another set of motivation. The hole is even more difficult to climb out of if you’re carrying any emotional baggage. And somehow, somehow, you know you’ve got to climb out. For the sake of your art. For the sake of yourself.

One of the things that Ms. Parker wrote was that everyone’s path is different, that not everyone achieves success in the same way or in the same amount of time. Everyone’s path is their own. It’s a very positive way of looking at one’s missed opportunities, one’s forks in their road, one’s resting points.

I look at my path and think: How many artists can say they’ve done what I’ve done? I did things other than sit at my drawing table everyday for hours, letting the outside world go by. Sure, that would’ve made me a skilled draftsman, but I have done so many things outside of illustration, many of which required that I step away from my drawing table for six years, that, ultimately, I can and do bring to my art, whether consciously or subconsciously. Some bad things happened, but many, many good things happened, too. I can choose to let my long and winding path bring me down, or I can remind myself to realize this: while I might still need to catch up my drafting skills, I have also gained a plethora of other experiences that informs my art. My art is unique; I don’t draw like everyone else, nor do I want to. I don’t see the world like everyone else. I take in information different from everyone else. My time away from my art informs my art.

And how many artists can say they’ve done what you’ve done?

Because you have also done things that other artists haven’t done. Maybe you are type to have sat at home, at your drawing table, and done nothing but draw, shunning the outside world in favor of honing the technical parts of your craft. But what materials did you study? What books did you refer to? What TV shows or movies did you watch? What websites did you explore? Whom did you talk to over the phone or online so that you could have some semblance of a social life?

My personal path is much longer than I wanted it to be. I remember wanting to be the youngest person ever to be a comics professional. I’m sure if I had (and how young would I have had to be?), I wouldn’t be the same artist I am now. Not in terms of drafting skills, but in terms of perspective and desire. In terms of philosophy and maturity. My path is longer because it took me longer to be mentally ready to be the artist I know I want to be, the artist I should be. I can hate that, or I can embrace it.

More importantly, we all have to realize that doing art for art’s sake should be the foremost reason we do art in the first place. Ideally, we shouldn’t make art because we want to achieve “success” by a certain date or a certain age. We shouldn’t make art because we hope to be rich one day. Yes, those are all nice goals, but if you don’t love the act of making art, then why do it in the first place? There are other, easier ways to make money.

Motivation is hard. Which is why it’s nice to have reminders. There’s no shame in reminding yourself why you should be motivated, why it’s okay to be at your current point on your path. Read interviews with your favorite artists and writers. Read a comic. Read a novel. Watch a favorite movie. Take a hike. Eat a favorite meal. Do something to remind yourself why you do what you do.

Then go do what you do.