Introduction

My name is JJ Roberson, and I am no one special. At least not in the commercial, socio-economic, bourgeois, or avante garde sense. You have never heard of me (Unless you're one of the people I have the pleasure of calling friend--in which case you are likely reading this out of obligation or indulgence). You have likely never seen my drawings, read my stories, or listened to my songs. You have never been moved, impressed, or inspired by my work, nor have you ever looked at it and thought to yourself, "Ugh! This guy is horrible! I could do so much better!"

Why? Well, because I haven't put any of it out there to be seen. Yep, that's right...I'm a closet creator. And this opening blog post is to be a confessional of sorts. I confess to having MURDERED countless innocent pieces of unfinished work and dumping their crumpled bodies in mass wastebasket graves. I confess to having condemned a number of potentially worthwhile projects to incarceration in desk drawers and closet storage bins. I confess to having abandoned paintings like frightened children in the storage room of my art school, where I knew full well they would find there way to a dumpster at the end of the semester.

And I have justified all of these crimes by telling myself (and others, you know who you are) that it didn't matter while I was in school. That I was going to focus on becoming the best I could be at what I do. "This is a time for learning, not sharing," I would say. And to some extent, all of that was probably true, but this reasoning was just a facade, crafted to deceive even my own conscious mind from realizing the ugly truth: that I was scared out of my mind. Still am. Horrified...probably always will be on some level. Horrified that I am not really the man that I dream of being in my moments of self-aggrandizement. That none of my work is really that good, and therefore neither am I. That those stories you hear about starving artists are true, and I'll spend my life struggling to keep my head above the poverty line. And the worst fear of all is that I'll never contribute anything of value. That thought can be like a knife poking at the base of my skull. After all, pictures don't plow fields. Stories don't develop new forms of reusable fuel. Music doesn't invent new technologies. But despite my fear (or perhaps in spite of) I know that art has value. Great value. The only question is how to find it in one’s own work.

"Fear is the mind killer." This is something my dad used to say, half-jokingly, when I was a kid racing motocross bikes, usually in relation to a new obstacle I was having trouble overcoming. It was a quote from the movie version of Dune, which my dad adored. Since then, I've come to realize that the quote was ultimately incorrect. Just some catch phrase that the writer (or writers; I don't know if it was in the original book or not) thought sounded cool. Rather, a better quote would probably be: "Fear can be your best friend, or your worst enemy." Everyone is afraid. The most successful, fulfilled people on earth harbor fear. The difference is how each of us diverts our fear. I believe exceptional people use their fears to drive them. They are afraid to stop. Afraid not to make every moment count. Afraid they'll reach the end and realize that they could have done so much more. Now there’s a terrifying thought.

I want to control my fear--to harness it. To atone for my wastebasket holocaust and captive ideas that never got to see the light of day. I am going to write this blog each and every day, in order that I may be made accountable. And I hope that those of you reading will help me. I hope that something in my words has inspired or entertained you enough to keep you coming back for more. In so doing, you and I can be more than friends. Kindred spirits. Allies in the war against those who might use art as nothing more than a disposable dandy--the equivalent of visual and intellectual cotton candy.

And fear not! For I do not plan on subjecting you to too many self-involved narcissistic ramblings, though some of that will likely make its way in. There is a purpose here! I am embarking on a journey to explore just what it takes to become a successful artist, both commercially and critically, in the postmodern age, and I'd like to bring you along for the ride. Don't worry. I'll do all the work. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the scenery.

Here's the plan. Each day, I will:

A) Explore one topic relevant to my current art-making endeavors, be it a technique, an inspiration, a theme, or a criticism (I'll try to steer clear of cynicism however--there are enough negative emotions floating around out there)

B) Share some concrete evidence of the previous day's work, be it a sketch, a script, and outline, a finished piece, or simply an idea I've come up with.

and C) Share one recommendation for an artist, writer, musical group, etc. that I enjoy and has inspired me to do better work. I might even give a brief explanation or critique of their work.

So there it is! I hope you have enjoyed my prose, and I look forward to meeting with you, street-level, to march on the gates of the artistic ineptitude. Bayonets at the ready...aim...fire!