The Power of Embracing Your Creative Identity

Don't be shy or downplay what you do by calling yourself an "aspiring" artist/photographer/craftsperson/(insert creative goal).

If you are doing the thing. You are it.

For me, the transition from being someone who is learning photography to being a photographer was a significant moment of vulnerability. I feel the same way about video and writing as well. Part of writing blogs and newsletters this year has been finally embracing what I want to become. I have made a choice overcome my shyness and started openly sharing my passion.

There is no magic moment when you transition from being an "aspiring" artist to actually being one.

I experienced the same struggle when I first started running. I hesitated to call myself a runner because I believed people would assume I was fast, skilled, or ran marathons. But you know what? Not a single person had those thoughts. In fact, when I started identifying as a runner, people began inviting me to events, assisting me with training, offering advice. I came to the realization that by sharing that I was a runner, other people helped me become the runner I wanted to be. Because of community in my first year I hit major goals I couldn’t have done alone.

Now, before you jump to conclusions, I am not saying there is no difference between someone new and someone experienced. Which leads me to add, you may now be tempted to add a qualifier: Professional photographer/artist. Capital "P".

Are you considered a professional only if you are paid for your work? Or can you be considered a professional if you have formal education and now teach, even if photography is no longer your main source of income? What about gallery work? Do you become a professional when you start showing and selling prints? Or is it all about publications? Are you not considered a professional until you have big enough clients?

Let's return to the analogy of running. If I say I am a runner, does that imply that I have to run marathons? Am I considered a runner if I regularly only run around the block as part of my wellness routine? Can I still be considered a runner if I run at a slower pace? What if I am currently injured and unable to run, but plan to resume once I am well again? Can I identify as a runner if I ski in the winter and run in the summer? Is it possible to be a runner even if I have no desire to participate in races?

You understand the point. You answer yes to every question. So why are artists and creatives afraid to express their identity?

Adding these adjectives sends a message. By including "professional," you are setting an expectation with potential clients. I use Freelance to help people understand who I am and what to expect. I don't have a big studio or a team; you get me!

But let's return to aspiring.

If you love the medium in which you create, you will spend your entire life learning, experimenting, and aspiring to learn new things, improve, and create an impactful body of work. These are all markers of a great professional as well.

Humans have a tendency to favour clear-cut labels. We desire to understand someone's identity, our own identity, and how to categorise individuals in society. We seek to convey to others where we belong. It feels safe to use the term "aspiring" as security blanket. By declaring that we are not yet artists, we can easily dismiss gaps in our knowledge, lack of preparedness, or instances where we choose not to take action.

Is an artist less of an artist if no one has bought their work? What if that was never the intention? What if they create art because they must, because it is what they need? Is someone less of a photographer because no one has paid them?

You are allowed to showcase work and be an artist without having to justify your skill level.

This conversation came about because I saw a piece of textile art that was so jaw-dropping, I wanted to learn more about the artist. When I did a little digging, I discovered that they describe themselves as an "aspiring artist."

I experienced a moment of confusion and disbelief, which led to a roller coaster of emotions that inspired me to write this piece.

First, I couldn't determine if they truly believed this about themselves. Their work resonated with me, it impressed me, and by labeling themselves as aspiring, it left me puzzled. If this is what an aspiring artist is, do they genuinely believe they are inferior or not yet prepared to be recognized as an artist? Personally, I already view them as one.

Secondly, we don't live in a vacuum, and if you are showcasing your work to the public, you are setting an expectation. As a new artist, I don't think I could even label myself as aspiring when comparing myself to their work. It creates a sense of hierarchy or levels. This artist is incredibly talented, and it felt disingenuous to suggest otherwise.

Third, the language you use sets a tone for how you think about yourself and how others treat you. I take my personal work seriously because it is important to my well-being and happiness. Just because it is personal work, it does not make it less valuable. It is much easier to ask for free things or take advantage of someone when you perceive them as trying to be a professional or aspiring to be one.

How you choose to think of yourself is a personal decision, and how you title yourself in public spaces is equally personal. However, it's important to consider the potential impacts that your chosen title may have, whether you are aware of them or not. On my social media profiles, I identify myself as a freelance photographer to indicate that I am available for hire. It's worth noting that you don't have to monetise your work if you don't want to. If monetisation is your goal, labelling yourself as "aspiring" may signal that you are not yet ready to be paid for your work.

I can only share my experience with the idea of self-labelling. When I started calling myself a photographer, I made space on a shelf for my gear. I set aside dedicated time to learn and began actively seeking out community and attending events. I also started asking for help more often from those willing to teach me. Embracing this label didn't mean I had to take on clients, sell my work, or be perfect. It simply meant that I gave myself permission to fully embrace the title and live up to it.

Gift yourself the kindness of embodying the title you aspire to, even if it exists only in your mind.

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The Myth of Being Ready

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Issue 3: Creativity, Productivity, and the Illusion of Doing More