I realize beauty is in the eye of the beholder, art is personal, etc, but who decides if something is "good" or not??? I make cards, do collage, decorate stationery and envelopes, make sun catchers, etc. I like what I do and of course do it more for me and my sanity (yes, it is therapy- touching the items, feeling textures, mixing and matching colors and patterns, etc) and I do get nice comments from the people I bestow these items upon. But then I pick up a copy of Somerset Studio, Altered Arts, or other art publications and I see the creations displayed therein...is my stuff equal to that? better? worse? who is to say? I'm trying not to get discouraged thinking my stuff is amateurish, etc compared to what I see in the magazines. But then, I'll pick up a paper crafts magazine, one dedicated to making cards, and I see stuff that looks like it was made by a second grader, published in this magazine. So do I keep on keeping on, doing what I love, for me and no one else? I enjoy it so much and don't want to think I am wasting my time. I don't ever expect to do this as a job, just for fun. And therapy!

 Dear Saqqara,

    This is a great question and such an important one.  I bet all of us here have thought about it or even worried about it from time to time.

    My own feeling is that when it comes right down to it, we are the only ones who really decide if our art is "good enough."  Yes, other people will decide whether to admit us to craft shows or publish us in magazines or give us prizes, but we're really the final arbiters of quality for ourselves.  This means that it is our own responsibility to decide our values, standards, and aesthetics.  

     One reason that this is so important is otherwise we hand over our love and passion to people who might not share our vision.  The annals of art are full of artists who were told to go packing by one person, but persisted and won great acclaim.  I always think with a pang of Emily Dickinson who asked one publisher to tell her if her verse was "alive."  He said, rather bluntly, "No."  How did she go on?  She wrote for herself, she followed her own vision, and she bound her poems into small books which makes her, I think, a fore-runner for all of us now who decide to self-publish.  Mainly, she stayed true to herself and her desire to write.  And now she is known by many as our greatest American poet.

     At the same time, we listen to those voices from the outside, putting them into context and evaluating them carefully and fairly.  When someone tells me that they don't understand something I've written, I feel thankful for the tip.  That doesn't mean I'll necessarily overhaul the passage, but it might mean I will.  It's up to me, but now I have some information about how someone else feels.

     I know what you mean about those extreme variations in standards.  As a musician, I'm sometimes astounded by what seems to me poorly-crafted songs getting lots of attention and airplay while the skillful writers remain unknown.  But that teaches me something, too, about where to aim my own music and also what to expect. There's something for everybody - and that means that someone will love what we do, and someone else will not.  Figuring out the people who will love you and your art is important - something about which I have much to learn.

     One thing that helps me think about "good enough" is to think not in terms of talent or achievement but in terms of skills.  I might listen to someone's performance and get down about how much "better" she is than me.  Or, I might note certain skills she uses in her performance and think about ways I could improve those skills myself.  On the other hand, I listen to a beginner and feel excited to hear the skills she already has and will build on.  Putting the emphasis on skill keeps things constructive, positive, and doable for me.

      You're certainly not wasting time in making art!  But if you'd like your art to live in the public sphere as well as in your own life, my advice is to find people like you who "get" what you're doing.  I've been really lucky to find a group of musicians who regularly play small venues in my area, and the support and comraderie I share with them is one of the gifts of my life.  So, too, is finding Artella!  We are not alone, Saqqarra - and especially here.

    Thanks again for such a great post which was clearly very thought-provoking!  Here's to all your art and your pleasure and joy in art, as well as to success on your own terms and with people you admire and love.

     best wishes,

    KateSinging 

Saqqarra, I have asked myself that very question so many times over the past year, since getting connected in Artella and seeing samples of other people's work at the click of my mouse.  Some of them take my breath away but, also, discourage me a little.  I have many times asked myself "do I keep doing what I do, even though next to these things, my stuff looks like kids at play?" 

I'm quite a thinker, and a loner, and I spend hours and hours thinking and turning things over and trying to get what I am supposed to "get" from the lessons that life seems to put in front of me.  This question harkened me back to other endeavors in my life when I was skipping along happily enjoying some activity or other, and then friends advised me to join a group or something to take it to the next step.  While around novices, I was good, when I was around a group of people who actually did the thing I was doing, I often looked around and gave up!!

As I thought about this pattern in myself, I realized that life was asking me to start to look within, and telling me, "this is the test, then.  This is the point where you have to accept the level you're at, and encourage yourself. Otherwise you'll give up." 

It absolutely, definitely, is a humbling experience.  And, yet, it seems to be a hurdle to taking our activity to the next place it seems inclined to go.  So here is the natural progression: I find something I enjoy doing; it impacts a lot of the rest of my life because of the satisfaction that I get doing it; I show it to people, or people see me doing it, and it seems natural to want to pair up with other people who enjoy it also. The trap comes with the comparisons.  When I look, I have to say, "OK, this just tells me that I want to learn how they do that".  With artistic endeavors, or creative endeavors, I've learned that a lot of the things I see are actually taught in classes, and e-classes, and on podcasts, and in Yahoo art groups, and even little classes at the craft stores.  There are a lot of ways to learn that I just haven't applied myself to, because I've withheld myself from trying too hard, and turning it into something that feels like work.  And also, I am stingy with my art supply money.  I don't want to always just be buying the latest thing that some article says I need for a project.  So I experiment.  And I think I am seeing that a lot of really cool artistic and creative people are doing the same thing, quietly at home in their garages or a corner of their bedroom.  They're just less visible. 

So, long answer to a simple wish:  take heart; see it as a journey in life, and decide what it seems to be calling YOU to do.  Accept yourself more?  Or jump a hurdle and take it to the next step, however uncomfortable at first? 

 As long as you are doing something for yourself and not using other's work as a measuring stick for your own, then keep on doing art.  Your work will only improve the longer you do it.  Everyone learns at a different pace, some people are "naturals" and others learn more slowly.  I think comparing your work to other's is a little like banging your head against a brick wall.  Just enjoy the process and have fun learning.  

Thank you for your thoughts and for taking the time to reply. I never understood how someone can be "taught" art. Maybe teaching color composition, form, etc, but not feelings or thoughts or what comes from the heart. I wll keep on and not let anyone or their opinions stop me. I get inspiration from a page in a magazine, a single image, a word, a leaf, you name it. Sometimes I just pick up a scrap of patterned paper and see what comes from it. I too am a musician, piano, and also wonder why some songs are out there - horrible melodies, terrible singers ( why do people say "wichu" instead of "with you") and inane words. I love to make greeting cards and when I see the ones in stores for $3 and up, it amazes me. Anyway, keep on doing what we love and thanks again for your help.

Each of you have provided good insight, and I'm sure this is a subject that hits many of us secretly and quietly.

I have only been on artella a few months now and I look around and wonder if I fit in? Such talent like writers, painters, mixed media and I wonder what I can really offer to people who are already talented in their own rights.

I look at it that there will always be people that are more advanced than you and people that are less experienced than you. It's being comfortable with yourself,  looking to others for inspriation and guidance, and to keep growing and developing yourself. I personally think education is never ending, there is always something new to see, do, or experience. It makes life exciting, it makes us well rounded people.

But I also agree it is hard when someone else gets to give you the thumbs up or thumbs down based on their personal preference and likes, it isn't fair, but it should also push you to do your own thing then vs. looking for approval from others. I agree with what was mentioned above, those that like what you do will follow, those that don't wont.

But, that also works both ways, I follow what I like, and skip what doesn't appeal to me too. I'll choose to open my own on-line shop vs. trying to get approval to fit in on someone else's.

Have a great evening everyone!

Oh boy, do I know about this one!  About once a year I throw myself a big pity party and say "I give up."  But an artist has to create so I eventually give in and get back to work.  I think the longest I've ever stopped working was about a month.

Every year I have to remember that I have made choices. I have chosen to develop a recognizeable style.  When people see my work they know it is mine.  I have worked very hard at this and it has taken years.  But there are other artists who tell my I am wrong in doing this.  I also choose to not chase after every new technique or material that comes along.  Not that I don't experiment with new things.  I do, but when I do it's because it's something I want to do or I think will fit in a certain piece I am working on.  I don't go out and try every new thing that comes along.  I just don't have time.  I like doing one of a kind original work.  I'm not really interested in putting out patterns or teaching others how to duplicate my work. 

But these choices do come with consequences.  I'm not real popular among other fabric artists.  I not only have to create I have to share my work with the world -- it has to be seen.  Getting my work "out there" can be a problem. 

But the positive side of this is that "regular folk" love my work  -- it speaks to them.  That makes me very happy because that's what I'm trying to do.  So I have to be creative in getting my work out where my audience will see it.  That means I have to go to them.  My work has hung in churches, libraries, book stores and even coffee shops.  My pieces always have a message  -- sometimes serious, sometimes silly, but it's always there.  It makes me sad when fellow artists or judges or jurors are so busy looking for "mistakes" that they miss the point.  When my work does occasionally go out to a juried quilt show I throw the judges remarks away without even opening them because they never seem to understand what I'm trying to do. 

Every year I always decide I've made the right choices and keep going.  But I do have to stop and remind myself why I do what I do and more importantly why I don't follow the crowd.

So after that long detour, I guess I would say keep reminding yourself why you do the work and why you couldn't stop if you wanted to.  Do what you love and everything else will start to fall into place.