[MUSIC] >> Hey, you're listening to Creative Pet Talk, a weekly podcast companion for your creative journey. I'm your host, Andy J. Pizza. The New York Times bestselling author and illustrator in this show is everything I'm learning about building and maintaining a thriving creative practice. [MUSIC] This episode is for you if you are tired of tracking the meaningless stats of likes and follows and want to find ways of tracking more meaningful progress in your creative practice or you're struggling to remember why you love making creative work at all and want to feel that spark of loving making stuff again. Or maybe you need a more human way of being online as a creative person. And stick to the end for an emotional data audit called the greatest hits collage that can help you make more of your best work going forward. [MUSIC] >> Jason, we have a lot going on. >> We really do. >> Maybe too much, but it doesn't feel that way thanks to Miro. >> Yeah, Miro is the visual collaboration platform that helps your team work together from anywhere. >> Yeah, and Miro has tools for project management, creating a digital whiteboard with your team where you can brainstorm, making retrospectives and a whole lot more. We have a lot of content here at MNN and we've been trying to figure out how to get our videos up on different platforms and Miro's flow chart tool really helped us get organized and figure out what we need to do to make that happen. >> And I really love Miro's mind mapping tool. It's a space where you can organize your thoughts in a way that translates to the rest of your team so that they can help you take action. >> Super helpful because I can't always reach your mind. >> You know, it would be scary if you could. Whether you work in product design, engineering, UX, agile or marketing, bring your team together on Miro. Your first three Miro boards are free when you sign up today at Miro.com. >> That's three free boards at miro.com. >> Massive thanks to Squarespace. Squarespace is an all-in-one website platform that makes making a website easy. Peezy. For a moment, creative websites were kind of looking all the same and I really wanted to break out of the templity look. Then I heard that Squarespace has this new fluid engine. And boy am I glad I checked it out because this thing is what I always dreamed of making a website could be like for me. Drag and drop stuff and then drag it all over the place. Text, images, videos, you can put it wherever you want. Layer it up, tear it up. Everything I cooked up in my mind I could figure out how to do without any knowledge of coding. Got a lot of comments like, hey, who helped you build this? And I was like, Squarespace is fluid engine, baby. You can see it at antijpizza.com and head to squarespace.com for free trial and build your own site. And when you're ready to launch, you can get 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain with promo code PEPTALK, all one word, all caps. Has your art practice ever become an echo chamber of screaming into the void of the internet, all the while becoming less and less soulful and more and more hollow as you go along? Have you ever been there? You ever found yourself in that place? I have. Uh, we are living in the noisiest era that I can ever remember as a human in the internet, especially nearly every creative person I know, regardless of skill level or career stage seems to be a little bit deflated and discouraged by the incredible amount of noise in recent times, most of us make art to express who we are and connect with other humans on a deeper level than you can with just plain conversation in everyday life. But what do you do when it's all becoming more static than signal and the noise drowns out your loudest efforts? Like why even try at that point? Today's episode with Anna Laura Sullivan, aka Anna Laura art on Instagram is a remedy to exactly this. I love Anna Laura's art so much. And if you haven't seen it, look up Anna Laura art on Instagram and immerse yourself in some of her art and characters and comics. They are like little quiet reminders that make you feel big feelings about what life is really all about. Me and my wife Sophie and I find ourselves just geeking out about one little panel of these comics and getting teary eyed or beaming with creative inspiration that makes us want to dig back into our own practice with a renewed remembrance of what making is supposed to be about. We have been doing this slow and steady series on the podcast this summer and this episode is such a good fit for this intention because lots of episodes of this podcast are about fueling your creative fire. But this episode is more like going on a hunt for the perfect stick to make the perfect s'more from the glowing embers of your creativity. What does that mean? I don't really know on a cerebral level. But emotionally, I think that's exactly what you're in for with this episode. And I think it's really going to be special. So without further ado, here is my chat with Anna Laura Solomon. I thought you could start by just saying a little bit about who you are and what your creativity in the world looks like right now, primarily. Oh my gosh, this is so fun. OK, yes, I'm Anna Laura. I am a watercolor artist based in Brooklyn and I'm from Nebraska. I would say my art really focuses right now on a very interested in transmuting things that I've learned and memory into comic form and the more specific I get with my experiences, I found the more universal to get. So it's been a really interesting experiment and a really exciting form of communication for me, which is what art has always been. And now I get to experience it on a wider scale and it's helped me connect with people more than in my entire life. And yeah, it's it's really exciting. And I love that even if my message isn't resonating with them in the comic that the art itself is like enjoyable enough to look at that people get a lot of joy out of that. And that is so exciting. I feel like I'm leaving like sticky notes on the digital fridge. And yeah, it's like my whole thing. Yeah, and it's it's wonderful. I'm so grateful for the internet. Yes. And you know, one of the reasons I was really excited to talk with you was because I think your comics are in a similar kind of universe to some of the picture book stuff that I do that me and my wife write. And a lot of stuff that we just love. I know that you're a, I believe you're a Ghibli fan from what I've read. Correct. Yeah, definitely. And I feel like if people haven't seen your work, it has this, um, those in between moment, quiet things that are very easy to miss. And you're just really good at picking up on those things. Thank you. Awesome. Yeah, I'd say that's, um, it's a huge part of my work. Ghibli was incredibly inspiring. And I also like, um, how magic the atmosphere is because that's what life felt like as a little kid, like everything was very cute. Like there was a bigness about childhood that I think we can still have today. It's just, it's just a matter of presence. So, um, I hope that my art has like little reminders of that. Similar with you, um, I was so mad. I didn't think of the invisible things first. I love it. I think it's so fantastic. Thank you. Why am I, I'm a huge, we are loving, we love and share your comics. And there's so many things like I love the, there's moments that you put into your work that I'm like, I didn't even ever appreciate that. One of the ones that comes to mind, I loved the comic you did about the two kids at the pool. Like the snack after the pool is one of the most glorious experiences. Even as an adult, but as a kid, you're so freaking hungry and you're just like, starving, this is the best thing ever. And all you did are draw a panel and it was like, I felt, I actually, I literally felt the feeling of it. Awesome. Oh my God. I'm so glad actually. I think that's my biggest quest as an artist right now. If I can get as many tactile experiences, it, like I want sound, smell. Like I want, I want all of those things. So, oh my God, yeah, and they really, they really transport you. Cool. I'm so glad you like that. And actually, and the first panel is them standing under one of those like waterfalls, yeah. And we were looking at it. My wife, Sophie and I, and we were just kind of like, oh, man, like that. It is the feeling of being there. And I, and I love what you said about like your quest to in your art. For me, if I lose sight of the like, I don't really know what it is. But to me and in my mind, in my creative work, it's very clear. It's like a, this is what I'm trying to do. But when I tried to talk about it, it, I know it's almost like a punch line. It's, it's almost like that, but it's my own version of that. And so like this thing that you're doing, it's like clearly a thing, but it's hard to put your hands around what it is. A hundred percent. It's, it's a language. I've always felt that the visual arts is a form of language. And instead of using words, it's using memory and it's using imagination. And it's trying to capture something that can only be felt and not told. So yeah, trying to explain it is a lot more difficult because we're not really in a realm of using words. It's like a sensory feeling. And I used to really scoff at abstract art because I like not scoff, but I was like, it interested me less than figurative stuff. And now I'm really more drawn to it because I'm understanding the language of visuals alone and how they're not supposed to directly have meaning, but they're supposed to have like feeling and it's an experience. Yeah, it's really been interesting. Actually, weirdly, you know, I've been an illustrator for over 15 years and it wasn't until the past few years that I really, I always loved illustration. Loved art, I think there was a lot of different phases throughout that journey. You know, there were phases at the start where maybe it was more like when I was when I was in college, like it had something to do with music and fashion. And like, I was never fashionable, but it's something like that. But it wasn't until the past few years where I got really obsessed with kind of Jungian dream interpretation and symbols and started to read about like, oh, this is this is like the pre-lingual language. Totally. And that's why it hits you so hard that I started to feel some of those things that you're talking about. Oh, I love that. I love that you're interested in Jungian as well. It's incredibly fascinating, even if you don't necessarily believe in the science of it, which I am partial to, just having language for your dreams and for symbolism, because like our lives are built out of stories. So the better you're able to articulate the stories that are even happening in your unconscious, it makes life way more magical, way more fun and easier to connect. Because we're all kind of using this like collective storytelling. 100% and more whole too, because it's a part of you. It's reaching a part of you that I think modern life doesn't reach. Definitely. One of the things that I read was that you had kind of a dark phase in your college painting years, and which is I think for people that just follow you on Instagram, I do think that that is pretty surprising. So is that true? You had like this whole dark era of creative work? This is so fun. Yes, dark as in, I wanted to be taken really seriously as an artist. I felt in order to do so, I had to touch on dark, darker themes or dark as in like scenes that I was really grappling with at the time and like hard, heavy stuff. Yeah. I mean, the suffering artist trope was very big. And then you're in a college setting where we're all feeding into that trope and kind of like informing each other about suffering equates to better art. So you're kind of in that headspace. And I wanted to be taken seriously and I did a lot of paintings with heavier themes. I made a lot of comics with heavier themes. I was struggling a lot with anxiety and depression at the time. And those in retrospect now feel like kind of like a scream, you know? And now I've learned that there are way more articulate and equally powerful ways to like whisper, you know? I also, I think my big switch happened during the pandemic and I realized joy had equal profundity to suffering and I could equally tap into my own heart and the hearts of other people using the vehicle joy instead of the vehicle of suffering. And that was a groundbreaking shift that changed me as an artist and then changed me as a person. And I'm so grateful for that because I didn't, I didn't realize. And ironically enough, I was able to connect with way more people on the joy front than exposing my like deepest, darkest fears. And now I'm exposing my deepest, darkest, like well wishes and things that I appreciate and things I'm grateful for. And it's coming from the same root. Yeah. Okay. So what do you mean by it's coming from the same root? Yeah. I used to think that. I used to believe that by sharing what was most uncomfortable with myself, like depression and anxiety was more vulnerable just because it's harder to and it is beautiful to do those things. But I think like genuine, like being open to love is equally vulnerable and can be equally intimidating, but like the payoff is unbelievable if you're willing to like fully love things and be incredibly grateful for things. And it's a practice that I'm still developing. But that was a fun shift to know that you can connect with people through their love. How two things that came to mind were one, I'm realizing that part of the thing that impresses me about your work is partially just what you just said, which is like it's in some ways more vulnerable to talk about the things that bring you joy, or it's at least as vulnerable. And then the other thing that I realize subconsciously, I was thinking, you know, we have this negativity bias as humans where it's the bad stuff is stickier than the good stuff. And for me, I think that that's one of the things that is so profound about your work is that you're able to capture the stuff that is the good stuff that we just let flow through us or bias and we don't even notice it. And so, yeah, that's the other piece of kind of what I see as being really valuable is. And then I thought like, and that's why I wonder if, you know, so many observational, I see there's kind of a parallel between what you do and observational comedy. Yeah. Like, it makes me wonder like, oh, is maybe that's why a lot of comics tend to focus on negative content is because that's the obvious stuff to see. That's the most of what you're noticing. Does that make sense? Absolutely. That's such a good point too, because I think today we kind of really feel like whatever's negative is more real than what's ever positive, maybe more permanent. And there's something like ephemeral about joy. Like we always kind of like assume the other shoe will drop. And that's another, it's just another narrative. It's another storytelling that the suffering is more real than the joy we can experience. And that was also a huge learning shift for me too. Yeah, that's a really interesting collective bias that we've all really kind of fit into. Yeah. And the other thing I love that you said was about the scream and the whisper because the thing. So first of all, I liked that because it's very image based communication, like it's a metaphor. And so that it makes tons of sense. But the other piece that comes up for me is that screaming, you know, the idea of screaming into the void, people talk about making art for the internet as being screaming into the void. Right. And it's so interesting that what kind of gained attraction for you was something so much more quiet. Right. And so how do you think about that? Like, how did you, did you, had you already had that language in your mind of the depression or the dark stuff being like, yeah, like pay attention to this. This is serious versus what you make now, which does feel like a whisper. Yeah, definitely it was a sensory feeling. Like I did feel like when I was making the darker thing, it felt like more, more effort, more, um, more anxiety to post, like it was like a more, um, visceral sensation. And with these, and the scream and the whisper metaphor works, especially well in regard to the internet, because if you're screaming, you can't really have a dialogue. But if you're whispering, then people have to kind of lean in and they have to add their own experience and their own communication. I think what I really liked the most about posting this style on the internet is people, it's a communication, like it's the viewer has to meet me halfway. And they have to, like, I don't think the pool comic would have worked if you didn't have any memories of the pool. Like it wouldn't have had its same, like, magic and effect. So I really like that collaboration and that can only come from, if I bring enough space into the work for someone else to enter it. And I also love some, I'll read some comments on some of those comics and they, like, enhance the work tenfold because they're adding their own experience, like with Christmas at their grandma's or just like a beautiful road trip with their siblings. And they just, like, turn it into a living thing. And that's what's so exciting that this'll just be a vehicle. But if I was just screaming my own experience, which there is a place for that, and that art is phenomenal, but for this in particular, I think the collaboration is so exciting. And they could only come if I, like, gently, that's even why they're animals. Because if they were humans, it would be, like, slightly less universal. And there's something so universal. Like, that's, like, to me, the shape of a soul. He's, like, a little monkey. So that's why I really like using characters that you can project anything on. And any form of love, also. Like, these characters could be your grandma or your brother or your best friend or anything. Like, I really like that. That's been really interesting to show how many vehicles love can take in your life. And the same characters apply. So you have, when you're picking characters, because this is something I think about sometimes, are pretty often, are you, how do you, so, okay, let's just pause for a minute, because I want to actually go through. Obviously, sometimes it's difficult to, you can't really completely nail down where an idea comes from, or how, especially visual art, how it evolves, whatever. But I find it to be really useful, powerful, interesting when you try, even if you can't do it. So this might get a little bit, you know. Oh, I love it. Very difficult to do. But yeah, hopefully you'll just entertain me with trying to do this. But I was going to ask, like, when you go to execute an idea, whether you already know which characters you want to use, or whether there's a choice there. But, and I do want to get to that. But maybe we could just go back a little bit to, you know, you're saying that this idea of, I hadn't even thought about the scream versus the whisper. Like, yes, so many people, and myself included, can get caught up in this. I hadn't thought about that. And I think because there's a, it feels so hard to get traction or attention online, that your nature does want to go to like, hey, pay attention. But you don't realize like, that doesn't create any space for dialogue. Do you, when you're creating, I'd love to get granular in the process of how one of these things come together. Are you thinking things like, oh, I better create space for this? Or how do I make it quiet? Like, maybe you could start by just saying, if there is a typical way that one of these evolves, what that looks like, and then we can kind of talk about it from different angles. Definitely. Yeah, I would love to answer the question. I'm going to answer this, and then I'll put a pin in the internet, because I have something crazy that I do. Okay. Do you have, are you going to, are you likely to forget that, or should, or you can be trusted? I think I got that locked down. Okay. Sometimes I have to write down the sound of juicy, and I was like, I don't want to lose it. So yeah, yeah, I did something very interesting with the internet when I first started out. But for the shape of the comics and how I work about, I never leave the house without a journal, because I used to think, oh, I remember that, oh, that's a great idea for a comic, you know, and then I have it. You will forget things. You have to write them down. Elizabeth Gilbert said that ideas are like sentient things. And I took that so to heart, like if a bird won't so land in my hand, I'm not going to let it go. So I write down everything. My comics go through, I have like, I start with a concept or like an idea that I felt. And I'm like, if I'm able to articulate it, then that means I really understand it, whether it's something nostalgic or something that I've read. A lot of inspiration comes from the things that I read. And then I try to channel them into a comic. So I take, I like write the idea on the top and then I just like let my brain doodle. And then I fill up a page with like ideas, whatever characters want to show up for that can. Some animals have like symbolic meaning, some just the shape makes sense. And they're usually done rather quickly. I find that the longer I like nitpick with a comic, the like it loses its energy and momentum. So I try to do it really fast. I don't sketch. I just go straight with ink. Allegedly, I used to sketch. Yeah, just to like keep a much as much energy alive as possible for these smaller ones. You said a lot of it will be stuff you read. One of the things, I don't know, I'm guessing at this, but I am, I do really like two things. One, I like when experiences from an artist, like something that inspires me from music, translating that to a picture or, you know, what like changing the medium often or letting it peak. Like one of the things I've noticed is recently, because we're going into more story writing. And I've been thinking about, I wanted to notice what are the things that really make me cry when we're watching a movie, especially kids, movies and stuff like that with our kids. What starts making, what starts hitting that and then start collecting those and see like, what are the connecting pieces and then relate that back to my own experience and then create from that place. Is that kind of? Absolutely. Okay. Okay. Oh my God, absolutely. And I've also, I wondered, I'm sure you felt this too, that actually gathering inspiration from mediums that aren't the one you predominantly work from have a huge impact. It like opens new chambers in your mind. Yes. And new associations. And it's so important. I think that's like my biggest advice for people who feel uninspired is to pursue things outside of your medium. Do you have examples of that in your own like practice that kind of mine? Yeah. Music is everything. I don't think I go a day without listening to music. I love classical music right now. I really like the space. Oh my God, I think I actually had a huge artistic turning point when I got into Chinese poetry that like changed my life. It's so fascinating. It's brilliant. They're the masters of doing the most with the least, like one sentence will like explode open. When did this happen? I, it's normally not something I'd gravitate towards, but I was stuck, snowed in a cabin in Vermont with a good friend of mine. We were like made a fake writing retreat. And we were like, let's just go in. So we had no internet. We had no books, but she had a book of Chinese poetry on her nightstand. So I was like, I guess I'll just read that. And then we read it and we were both crying. There's this one. It's very short. It's like six stands. It was about homesickness written in like, oh my God, thousands and years ago. And it still hit with the same amount of impact. And I thought that was incredible. That art was timeless enough that the feelings that this person felt still applied to us today, it was incredible. He was this war general who left to serve in the war. And when he came back, his town was destroyed and it was just farmlands. And he would still walk around. And he was homesick for a place that didn't exist. And that feeling is still applicable. Like, I'll go to my childhood home, but it's not there anymore. Just being that area. And I was like, oh my God. That is incredible. That thread that connected us. Oh, it's just beautiful. And I love also, I just think that there's, I don't, I don't know. I think that creative people, myself included, especially early in my career, would see there's like being inspired by people that do stuff just like you, or like it's binary, like that, or you're just experienced. You're just inspired by your own experience. And I think this is such a perfect example of something way more in between. Because it creates a springboard for thinking about, like you said, going back to your own life. And then I can imagine you trying to take that poem and not literally, but just trying to capture that emotion in a comic. Especially the leap between, you know, someone from the military versus one of your characters. Yeah. There's such a huge translation here where it becomes really something that is particular to you. That's such a good prompt. It's incredible. It's really incredible. And I mentioned earlier that stories shape us. What we don't realize is we can inform those stories. Like, I think it's monumentously important to read. Because reading colors my experience. Like, it's not just you read, and that's helpful information. That's exciting. It alters your thought patterns. Like, I will read something, and then I'll go for a walk. And then that walk is going to be shaped by whatever material I just consumed. And if we're not aware of the material we're consuming, I always sound like such a boomer, but I only talk about internet usage. But if you just scroll TikTok, which I do, then that's going to color your experience when you walk around. And I'm not necessary. Not saying it's a bad thing, but I think, like, consumption does color your thoughts in a way that is huge. I completely agree. Yeah. And I think I like your joke about rumor. But I do think, I actually think that we don't, we don't, I don't hear people talk about this. And there are certain, there's the real judgment around this, but I don't really watch horror. Mostly just because after I became a dad, everything was too scary already. Just real life was too scary. Yeah, that's so cool. I was like, I can't, I don't want more of that. I feel the same way. I'm like, does my spirit need this? Yeah, it's exactly like the art house ones. And they're like, it's very good for you. Like the aesthetics are beautiful. It's like be a part of the culture. I'm like, I don't know. Yeah, it's hard. I don't know how my spirit means that consumption. And I get the arguments for it. All that kind of thing. But anytime that comes up, I am aware of how little conversation goes into. It's almost like in the age of the internet, it's like there's no, well, we don't have any control over it. Like we're out of control in terms of what we're consuming. And even like with TikTok, which also, I've had phases where I use pretty regularly, there's a, you know, the fact that you aren't choosing what it is. Obviously you play a role in terms of how you engage or whatever. But yeah, there's this thing of even the introduction of the conversation of, should you be discerning in what you're choosing to put in your head? Does feel like a dated concept. But I think it's especially as an artist, because I've even recently, I've thought about how, oh, I always forget that if I'm reading a book about picture books, I'm going to get super into my picture book zone. I'm going to be thinking about it, I'm going to be doing that. Or if I get into that, oh, I'm listening to business podcasts, or I'm listening to whatever it is, whatever it is, I actually change. Yes, yeah. And on subconscious levels that you don't even consider, I think it works a lot like the digestive system. And I think we don't really associate our brains in the same way. But yeah, consumption, it's a very interesting age. And I still feel like I'm trying to understand it for myself, before I'm able to speak on it. Because right now I do feel like I'm part of the internet in the way that I was, it's like drunk people trying to talk about sobriety. Like I'm like still very involved. Yeah, you've got like over a half a million followers making all this stuff. Yeah, and the internet's bad for you. I'm like, the internet's bad, but not me corner. You are the internet in a way. Yeah, it feels that way. And I rely on it a lot. Yeah, I'm just trying, I'm trying to turn the internet, like change the architecture of the internet in my head, from like a home to a window, if that makes sense. Like I don't want to live in it so presently I want to be able to just like be an observer. This is the thing I had a pin and it's kind of a cycle. Okay, yeah, let's go back to that. But when I first started to kind of take off, it was a very interesting phenomenon. And I love experiments and I love like trying to understand how things work. So I would track everything. I would track my emotional state while I was painting the comic. I would track how inspired I was, how much I thought the art was good. And then I would post it and then I would not look at that. And then I would track my emotional state, how I was feeling, how I thought it would go. And then check to see its virality. Yes. To see if any of those emotional states I had while I was working impacted their popularity, a very type A, that was like the most Virgo thing a human could do. I would even track like what time of day I made them. Just to see if there was any correlation and it was the data was all over the place. Like it didn't matter how much I liked the final product or how inspired I was. The only thing that was consistently helpful for something going viral is if I posted it and let go of the outcome. Like if I felt after I posted, I'm happy whether or not. I'm just glad that I made that like if I felt any kind of attachment to the outcome, it weirdly like got kind of stuck. So I don't know. Okay. So I love this. I want to dive deeper into this idea because I think just on the level of a total different data set of analytics to be thinking about that. I mean, regardless of the correlation between these two things, that's a more interesting and valuable data set already that almost none of us consider let alone track. So that alone is very fascinating. It was fascinating. And but on top of that, I wonder this thing of the non-attachment. I don't know that this is true, but I do think that one of the things that I know exactly what you're talking about in terms of the things that I make, where I'm like, yeah, I don't really care if people get that or not. To me, it's not just because as I'm hearing it, I'm thinking, okay, one way to interpret that is just a non-attached mindset. So that's one way of thinking about it. But then there's another way of thinking about it where when I've had the intrinsic enjoyment of not just not just enjoy the process, but feel like I did what I am trying to do. Exactly. Then I have no attack. Does that track with what you're saying? Absolutely. 100% because the work is already done. You had a concept in your mind and you were able to do it. The success happened, whether or not the internet picks up on it is less important because you got it done. And also, there's something about, I'm very interested in the tropes and the cliches around being a creative person. And obviously, a lot of cliches are things that are based on truth. That's why that happens. But I often think like there's a lot of things in science that we've confirmed around spirituality, things like meditation, for instance. Like, okay, people have been doing this for thousands of years. They say this is all the stuff that's the benefit of it. And then this is what we can see in the research and the more that we research it, potentially the better at executing it we are. Because we really have, maybe we clarify some of the parts of it that are not really true and the parts that are true. So you get all things like you were mentioning the suffering artist or things like that, whatever those kind of tropes. One trope you get a lot around is something like authenticity, which is true, but it's vague. And then this thing that you're describing, it makes me think, I'm sorry I'm going on such a... No, this is so fascinating to me. I forgot I was, this was an interview. I'm like, yes, that's so embarrassing. I was just saying that it reminds me of like, it's not just that you did a good job in art. It's that you did the thing that you like to do. And that's the level that's that cliche authenticity thing of like, yeah, I'm doing my thing. 100%. I wish I'd been able to take such a long round to say that. No, oh my god, no, I think that's so fascinating. By the way, your tangents are like the like the meal of the conversation. Like I love hearing you talk truly, so I'm never feeling away. But yeah, that's, oh my god, that's everything. And I think where I'm at currently, and it might shift over time, but I think the quality of art relies on your sincerity to yourself. Like how sincere you can be to yourself determines quality, because I used to think maybe it's like a technical element. Like if you can execute something really well, or if you have something really valuable to say, I think true value and true quality is like, how sincere can you be towards yourself? And I like that word, I think especially because being authentic online sounds like a paradox already. But if you're attempting like genuinely to be sincere to yourself, and that's like to know if you're being sincere. For me, I'm like really excited and joyful. And I think that's the mark of really beautiful art. And I think that's why so much art made by little kids. I'm like, that's genius because they're so sincere. You know I am all about getting to the bottom of what fuels the world's greatest artists. So for me, American Masters Creative Spark the award-winning podcast from PBS is just a treasure trove of creative inspiration. American Masters Creative Spark catalogs creative journeys of artists and icons across disciplines from music to comedy to poetry to film. This show features some of the absolute best to do it. And the new season is next level with the likes of singer-songwriter Jewel, Grammy award-winning singer-songwriter Connor Oburst for you fellow bright-eyes fans, and Pulitzer-winning playwright Annie Baker. I'd say a great place to start is with Tony award-winning actor and one of the most legendary guests we've ever had on the show, none other than JGL himself, Joseph Gordon Levitt, where he talks about the wide spectrum of mental approaches he needs to be able to tap into from realism to comedic farce and everything in between. That's the juicy stuff I love. So go check it out, follow American Masters Creative Spark on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. I read that you said the art you make now has a lot in common with what you are making as a kid. And to me, there's something really interesting here because, yes, making work that is sincere is such the ticket. But being sincere, knowing who you are is very difficult. And when I heard about your dark face in college, I thought, that sounds like a very necessary hero journey. And you even had to make work in your non-dominant hand, which is being out not comfortable in your own skin, like trying something totally different. Those are so essential to actually getting back to who you are, knowing what you're not helps. So I wondered if you could speak to that journey into the dark phase and to the making art with your left hand. If that was the kind of creative heroes journey, what do you think you took from that? I love that you know that. That was a really pivotal moment in my artistic career. And it wasn't for any kind of like profit or anything. So that's so cool that you know that. Yeah, that was in college. I played on the soccer team and I got a Harley injury. And overnight, I was like swept up all my identities. I couldn't be a student. I couldn't be an athlete and I couldn't be an artist. So everything that I built up, who I was, was gone. And I did not know what to do. It was really, really difficult. And I think that was the end, ironically, the end of my dark period, because it was so real. I wasn't really like screaming anymore. It made me quiet. Maybe we'd be like, okay. What do I actually want out of myself? Who actually am I, stripped of all these identities? And what do I want to say? So this was like a very spiritually experimental time. I started going to a Buddhist temple and that radically changed my life. It opened me up to Eastern philosophy. That still informs me today. But I found that I still really, really desired to make art, even though I physically couldn't. So I started painting with my lipant just because I wanted to. And that actually felt so, that felt like treasure, honestly, that I still had the desire to create, even though it was physically difficult, because it kind of affirmed to me, this is something more important to me for my, and it's not for my ego. I actually have to do it. It's like coming out of me. So yeah, I made a left-hand series and I was themed around feminism and how the body can be incredibly limiting for your identity, how you're moving through the world physically, socially, spiritually. And yeah, it was a really powerful time. And it also really affirmed what I kind of knew, but it kind of like got lost to me in art school. That was very focused on career. That art is a vehicle of communication, and it's a powerful catharsis, and you don't need to turn it into a prophet. Like, it can just be like a beautiful thing for yourself, to understand yourself. And ever since then, I've been making art on my own, just because it's like a form of journaling. And I invest like a lot of time and material into these projects that I would just like for myself. And I think more people should do that. I really admire people who just create art for the sake of it. I think it's a valuable thing, and it's a great marker of time. I don't think I would have been able to tap into the suffering I was in if I didn't have those bookmarks. And now I can look back on them with a lot of love. But yeah, that was crazy. It kind of brings up this thing of doing the stuff for yourself, and then the most successful pieces being the ones that you felt like, "Oh, I did the thing." What I was going to say was, the only downside of that for me now is that I have a bunch of stories or comics or whatever, all kinds of different things like that, that I've written, that I am so satisfied with, that I haven't turned them into anything, because I feel like it's a great journey for me to be on going from somebody who went to school to be a commercial illustrator or a graphic designer, where back in 2008, I was so consumed with, I have to make a living at this, that everything had to be published. I had to push out stuff all the time. So it's a great arc for me to have a bunch of stuff that I can barely get myself to finish, because I'm so happy with it. But still, that is kind of the downside. Yeah, because when you know when it's out there, it ceases to be yours. It's going to be a collaboration now with whoever views it. Yeah, that's really interesting. That's a difficult grapple, and it's still something I'm trying to discern myself, whether or not it's a noble to just keep things. To keep it, yeah. Or to share it, which one is a more poetic path as an artist, which one is more valuable path for your growth? I don't know. Yeah, I don't either. And I think it's probably both and in a way. I was going to ask you, when you were in that time, and you had this accident in sports, and you lost all these things, your identity, I think a lot of people, one way or another, it can happen a totally different way. You get boxed into a corner, and you said, "Okay, you went to go to the temple, and you started making work with your left hand." I think the question that I have is, how did you know what to do at all? How did you have those ideas? What brought you to because those things really seemed to unlock it, but because I've been in those places where I'm stuck. And I'm just like, "I don't know what to do." Totally. Oh my gosh, yeah. I think for that particular situation, it was kind of like a blind man having exceptional hearing, because one of his sources was cut off, since my technique was cut off. Weirdly, inspiration was open. And those are rare, and I'll acknowledge that. And I think it's better to understand inspiration seasonally. There are going to be huge springs, and then there will be winter, and you have to roll with that. And I think I was blessed that they coalesced at the same time, that even though I was physically done, I was still inspired. And I've been completely able-bodied and completely having time and freedom and money to pursue something, but no inspiration. So I think actually getting as in tune as possible to what inspires you is the greatest pursuit you can have, because I was still feeling very inspired at that time. It relates to there have been times in my practice where I got too proficient with a particular tool, and then the options felt infinite, and then I would move to a different tool that I wasn't very good at. For me, it was digital to painting, but I've seen musicians do the same thing where they'll go from they're really good at guitar, and they're like, "I'm going to start writing music on piano, even though I'm not very good at it," and all of a sudden, inspiration comes from the fact that you don't have 256 options. You only have a few options, and all of a sudden it makes it easier to take action, or the inspiration just seems a lot more bountiful with that kind of constraint. Yeah, constraint can be weirdly liberating, because again, it opens up different parts of your mind that you're not used to. Do you have... I wondered if you could share any... We're going through a series of slow and steady summer trying to take it a little bit more chill, and so many of your comics have this quietness, and this kind of smallness. New York City doesn't always have those things, as we've spoken here. It's not always quiet, but I wonder how you have trained your brain, or what tools you use. I know you said you carry a notebook. I don't know if you could say, even specifically to some of your favorite comics, how you notice those things. Oh my gosh, this is so great. Yeah, again, huge experimenter. I really, really like... I'm like a little weird little scientist, in terms of like... I wasn't going to say, but yeah, you are, like a weird little scientist. I'm a weird little monkey scientist. Slowness in particular, I was... My whole life, I was really, really fast, really, really neurotic. Like, I like to do things quickly, and immediately I was a nervous kid, and that's actually why I switched to watercolor, because I had to slow down. You have to wait for it to dry, you have to collaborate with water, a living thing, and my mind and water is like alive the way that it moves, and that was massively informative and helpful, and it not just shaped my artistic practice, but also my life. Like, I started to physically slow down, and then I'd have days where it's almost like a form of performance art. I will try to move as slowly as possible, like I work from home, so I can just do whatever. And I will like walk to the kitchen as slowly as I can, or I will go around the park, and he'll walk as slowly as I can, or I'll try to move or eat or consume as little as possible information-wise, just to see what opens up, because I think at first, quiet was really disconcerting. There was this one moment in particular, I was on the couch, I was about to watch Netflix, and I was like, "Can you figure out what to watch?" I was like, "What if I just sigh her?" Yeah. What if I just genuinely did nothing for 30 minutes, and I know this is what meditation is, but at the time, I was like- I invented this thing. I invented this really cool trick, life hack. No, I wasn't thinking that. I was joking. Yeah. I did this crazy hack, and it felt amazing, and my senses opened up. Like, I would do before bed instead of scrolling, I would be like, "Stare at the ceiling," and then the feeling of my pillow and my sheets, or enhanced, or the food I was eating, or just the way clothes felt on my body. The more present I was, the more aware of the world I was, and it was not a new feeling. This was childhood. This is what being a little kid felt like. I would watch wind through the trees with such rapt attention that it was genuinely incredibly fascinating, and that's how it felt as a little kid. I remember my imagination growing up was explosive, especially in a math class, because it forced you to just be in one spot, and I wasn't really paying attention, but my mind was going everywhere. The more space and quiet you can allow in your life, I recommend everyone just experiment with that, because you are amazed what's hiding in your brain that's being drowned out by other noise. It's really fun. I call it performance art sometimes when I feel really goofy about it. I'm like, "No, this is actually a performance art piece." Audience of one. Where did that idea come from in terms of, "Right, this is the performance piece of walking into the kitchen." Yes, definitely. I think performance art is incredibly fascinating, because I love rituals, and I think we've kind of lost the art of rituals, at least in my Western brain. I didn't have enough rituals, and if you don't like the spiritual attachment of rituals, lighting a candle, doing something, if it doesn't feel like spiritual. I guess what performance art has always been is using an artistic vehicle to make the moment as magic as possible. It involves a ton of intention, and it involves a lot of beauty, whether you're beautifying the space, or you're doing something out of the norm. It just makes way more interesting. A Tuesday could be a miniature ceremony or celebration. You can do something really powerful. I think that's a good practice. Calling your performance art takes the pressure off of any kind of structure it needs to have. I've also tried to do rituals that already exist, and I'm like, "I don't know if I'm doing it right, but if it's a performance art, then I'm just moving." I love the idea of a Tuesday being a glorious moment, because I think, especially because of being ADHD. I think a lot of ADHD people feel like this, where the low dopamine thing gives you a kind of desperation for action, and intensity, and novelty. It's kind of relentless, and the seasons of my life where I've been able to sit and be like, "Look, it might even be because of that condition. There might even be a level of almost pain because of it, but you will be better for it, and you will be glad that you did it." I love the note that you said about making up your own rituals or seeing it as performance art, because I relate to that too, especially as a kid. Yesterday, I'm really silly with my kids. I'm also a normal dad with my kids, too. I get aggravated, and I don't ever want to paint a picture like, "I'm the silly fun dad. I can be, but also, I'm also just a regular human being." Yes, but I am pretty silly at home, and yesterday, I repeated the same thing over and over again in a kind of weird way, just to kind of bug my kids or make them laugh or something, and my daughter was like, "Oh, I do that. I'll do the same thing over and over until I crack, and then I'm cracking up." I just think, "Man, as a kid, I did so many little..." They're almost like meditations, and you know like, "Oh, I'm doing a weird thing," or whatever it is, but I think that we have that self-consciousness of, "Am I doing it right? Or am I being a normal human? Is this okay?" It gets in the way of those little repetitive moments. Oh, absolutely. Yeah, and novelty is in our fabric as humans. We're supposed to play. It's very normal. It just makes life more fun. Oh my gosh, kids are so open and able to dance and perform and play pretend in a way that I say, "Oh my god, imagine how much happier society would be if we could just like be free to play more often." And just look, and the way you do it, like you said, if you need some license to go around your house, doing visuals or verbal stimming and all this kind of stuff, just call it performance art. Okay, I have a feeling that after that chat, you're feeling pretty full of heart and creativity right now, and I don't want to give you an action that's going to hijack that and put you back in your head. This summer, we're trying to do not calls to action, but calls to inaction. Instead of our usual creative call to adventure, we have been encouraging you to quit things, do less, and just be more often. So instead of doing, let's reflect on what we've done. In Elora's emotional data points, that process that she used reminded me of a practice I do a couple times a year that I call the greatest hits collage. It's where I take my favorite things that I've made, maybe in a particular section of my work, like kids books or episode art. I usually don't make one that spans a whole bunch of different areas, but I take one of those areas and I make a collage of my favorite pieces that I've done in that area of work. And it's not based on the performance, how well they've sold or how well they have done online. It's not based on sales, it's based on what I've made that is most my taste that I'm most proud of, that I felt most satisfied by in making it. Then I will take that collage and I'll make it my phone wallpaper so that I can kind of just soak in it and reflect over the next couple weeks. Pinterest now has a really cool collage feature. They're not a sponsor, this kind of sounds like a sponsorship, but they have a really cool collage feature that lets you easily cut out things and make them like stickers and smash it all together. And you can also do this on Instagram stories and save it to your device or even share it publicly. I shared mine on Instagram last week, but this process helps me remember that I am capable of making art that I love. And it recalibrates me back to my own taste versus what I think other people want from me. And it helps me remember the type of work that I love making that makes me feel satisfied with the process and the end result beyond any type of external validation. So if you need some of that, I urge you to make a fun, greatest hits collage and soak in some of those feelings today. Massive, massive thanks to Anna Laura Sullivan. Love her work. Loved this chat. Hope that she comes back on the show someday and highly recommend you pause and go check out her work on Instagram at Anna Laura underscore art or at Anna Laura art.com. It is going to bring so much sunshine and rest pit to your day. And yeah, you're going to be glad that you checked it out. Hey, real quick, we are doing a 2024 creative pep talk audience survey. It's only 10 questions. It's super fast and fun to complete, but we want to know more about you and your feedback on the show so we can make this show the best it can be. Help us help you better go to creative pep talk.com slash survey to share your insights with us. We've already had some really, really juicy, incredible insights from the responses so far and they've been really helpful. But we want your input in there and your taste and your preferences and your thoughts about the show. So go check it out creative pep talk.com slash survey and we'll put a link in the show notes. Can't wait to hear from you. Thanks. Creative pep talk is a weekly podcast designed to help you build a thriving creative practice. But that's the thing. It only works if it's an actual practice. It has to become a habit. We make this show every single week so that your creativity can go from being a thing that you do sometimes to a creative discipline to immerse you in a world of creatives that are doing the same where those kind of behaviors are normal. One way we help you stick to this is by sending you the new episodes via email to your inbox every single week so that you never miss a week. And we often add bonus content like pictures and links and extra related stuff to the episode that you're not going to get just from the apps. Go to AndyJPizza.substack.com to sign up to the free email newsletter and I'll have the accountability to stay on the creative path and keep this streak going and hopefully it will inspire you to do the same. And if you sign up right now you'll get immediate free access to our e-booklet the creative career path. It's a step-by-step roadmap for creating a project that is designed to unlock your dream creative clients and opportunities. Sign up at AndyJPizza.substack.com and let's keep this creative habit together. Creative PepTalk is part of the Pod Glomerate Network. You can learn more about Pod Glomerate at www.podglomerate.com. This has been another episode of Creative PepTalk, a weekly podcast companion for your creative journey. Hey, it's dangerous to go along. Take this podcast with you week in and week out by subscribing to the show to keep you company and keep the best creative practices top of mind so that little by little weekend and week out you can make progress in your own creative practice. I'm your host AJ Pizza. I'm a New York Times best-selling author and illustrator and I make this show not because I have it all figured out but because as a squishy creative artist type that's prone to big emotions it takes a whole lot of creativity to just get out of bed sometimes. So every week I put out the ideas that are helping me stay disciplined and stay excited and have helped me stay on this creative path for the past 15 years plus in hopes that it might help someone else or at the very least help them feel less alone on their own creative journey. Massive thanks to Yoni Wolf and the band Y for our theme music. Thanks to Connor Jones of Pending Beautiful for editing and sound design. Thanks to Sophie Miller for podcast assistance of all sorts and most importantly thanks to you for listening and until we speak again stay peped up. [Music]
