How to be one of a kind

The following essay is from my new book, Make It Anyway. If you enjoy this sample, I invite you to buy a copy or four.

I love the art of Henry Darger, the Chicago custodian who came home every evening to work on The Story of the Vivian Girls, a sprawling 15,145-page novel about a fantasy world he’d invented. He taught himself to draw and paint to illustrate that world in pages the size of his dining table. Night after night, he built that world because it was entirely his, a spectacular place full of obsession and drama and myth, about an epic battle to protect children from the abuse he himself had suffered.

And then he died and left it all behind, unseen by anyone but him.

His headstone reads “Artist” and “Protector of Children.”

Are you making art that is unlike anything ever made before? Are you working to revolutionize the art world? To blaze new trails? To be breathtakingly unique?

Me neither.

And I sometimes wonder if that means I’m not a real artist.

The art world/art business has given us the impression that the things we make must be unlike anything ever made before. That’s what students are taught in art school, that their statements must be breakthrough, never derivative or familiar in any way.

This conceit has led to so much contemporary art that is incomprehensible to normal humans. Their creators strain to make something so clever, so fresh, so dazzlingly different that it ends up just feeling forced, cold, intellectual, and irrelevant to what we actually go to art for.

The fact is, familiarity is fine. And inevitable.

Because everything has been thought of before. Every story idea, every art concept has existed before in some form.

What matters is authenticity.

Your assignment is to make art that reflects your experience and perspective in a way that comes from who you are. Art that is as unique as you are.

It doesn’t matter if you live in the middle of nowhere or have never done anything ”interesting” with your life. It doesn’t matter if you live in a suburb full of cookie-cutter homes. The life you have lived in that home is special. The thoughts, the experiences, the pain, the challenges, the victories, they are yours alone.

Strive to make art that comes from that place. And don’t strain to make it different. Go deep and make it true.

Capture how you see the world today and share it with at least one other person. That’s all the reason you need to make art. That unique perspective is your permission to be an artist. Not because you draw well or understand color mixing or have lots of art supplies, but because you are creating magic that can cast a spell on someone else and transport them to your place to share what you have felt and learned about your little corner of the world.

Your art can break down the barriers that exist between all of us as we sit locked in our heads. You can open a door, build a bridge that will dispel the loneliness we all feel.

Warning: Your story of what you see and feel will not be for everyone. It will not be for most people. Not everyone has a taste for artisanal goat cheese with sun-baked sesame seeds and boysenberries.

But it will touch some hearts out there deeply. It will be exactly what they need.

And, most importantly, it will touch your heart. It will be what you need to mend, to thrive, to cherish your corner of the universe.

And that will be the only trail-blazing breakthrough that matters. Ask Henry.

Your pal,

Danny

P.S. I made an animated video about Darger that I published this morning:

My new book is out just in time for the holidays. Priced as low as Amazon will let me, so feel free to buy one for everyone on your list!