We’ve all heard the expression, “You’re your own worst enemy.”
It’s one of those old adages that sounds rather simple until you actually stop and think about it.
Sometimes we create our own obstacles. We second-guess ourselves, question our decisions, and convince ourselves that if we just try a little harder, offer a little more, or give a little something away, things will eventually work out.
As an artist, I think this can become particularly problematic.
I’ve spent decades creating original artwork. Hundreds of paintings, countless hours experimenting with ideas, compositions, colors, and techniques. And yet, here I am, trying to convince someone to purchase an original painting by offering discounts, free shipping, and promotions that make my work increasingly inexpensive.
At what point do you stop and ask yourself what you’re actually doing?
We’ve become accustomed to a retail environment where everything is on sale. Amazon, QVC, Temu, and the endless stream of online promotions have conditioned us to expect bargains. There’s always another discount, another special offer, another reason to buy something before the clock runs out.
But is that really how an artist should present original artwork?
I’ve been offering paintings for $350 with free shipping, sometimes knowing that the shipping expense could be nearly as much as the painting itself.
And for what?
The hope that somebody will recognize the bargain and make a purchase.
But there’s an interesting contradiction here. If I believe my artwork has value, why am I constantly trying to convince people that they can have it for less?
There’s an old expression: Never sell yourself short.
Perhaps that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
There’s a difference between making art accessible and undervaluing what you’ve created. I believe original artwork should be available to people at different price points. But that doesn’t mean I should sacrifice the value of my work in an effort to compete with a retail mentality.
A painting isn’t a commodity rolling off an assembly line.
It’s an individual expression. It’s something created through experience, experimentation, and the freedom to explore an idea.
And perhaps the biggest irony is that I’ve spent so much time writing about authenticity, creativity, and individual expression while simultaneously trying to package my artwork like a weekend clearance event. lol , with no sales or interest as far as people calling me.
Maybe my biggest competition isn’t another artist. Maybe it’s the perception I’ve created around my own work.
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is stop trying to make something happen and allow yourself to recognize what something is actually worth.
After all, if you’re constantly lowering the bar for yourself, eventually you might find yourself standing underneath it.
Maybe it’s time to get out of my own way.
Am I a victim of myself or can I just simply blame the economy and the big picture of selling in America? Mass consumerism?
Final thoughts:
——-
Maybe it’s time to get out of my own way.
But then I have to ask myself another question: Am I actually my own worst enemy, or am I simply a victim of the circumstances surrounding me?
Can I blame myself for trying too hard to make a living, or should I look at the bigger picture? The economy, mass consumerism, and a marketplace that has conditioned people to expect everything cheaper, faster, and more conveniently than ever before.
We’re living in a culture of consumption. We’re surrounded by products, promotions, discounts, and an endless supply of merchandise competing for our attention. Everything is available at the click of a button, and there’s always somebody willing to offer it for less.
But where does that leave the individual artist?
I’m not manufacturing thousands of identical products. I’m creating original paintings, each with its own identity and expression. Yet somehow, I’ve found myself trying to compete in an environment where price, convenience, and instant gratification often seem to matter more than individuality.
So perhaps I’m not entirely my own worst enemy. Perhaps I’m also trying to navigate a system that doesn’t necessarily favor what I have to offer.
But that doesn’t absolve me of responsibility for my own decisions.
I can acknowledge the economy, recognize the changes in consumer behavior, and understand the realities of selling artwork in today’s marketplace. What I can’t do is allow those circumstances to dictate how I value myself or what I create.
Maybe getting out of my own way means recognizing the difference between what I can control and what I can’t.
I can’t change the economy. I can’t change mass consumerism. I can’t make somebody purchase a painting.
But I can change how I present my work, how I value it, and how much I’m willing to compromise in the process.
And maybe that’s where getting out of my own way really begins.
