Progress Rarely Feels Like Progress

Creators and Editors

“I definitely think my attachment to the outcome is what drew me to feeling so low,” my client told me over Zoom. “You even said that if you’re too focused on the outcome, you’re not taking small enough steps,” he said.

He went on to say that he couldn’t work on a painting without feeling the “need to finish it.” To try to just sit with his in-progress painting poses a challenge. This is something that I’m working to coach him through because it’s an essential step to getting out of rumination loops. He was stuck highlighting the gap.

I’ve learned over the years that there are three essential steps to “feeling better about progress.” Artistic production has taught me that there’s a creator and an editor inside each of us— and we need to pay attention to the shifts between them.

First, as my client suggested, we need to prioritize minimum-viable movement over analysis. Otherwise we’ll never produce anything and stay stuck in our heads about “what ifs?” This is the creator.

Next, it’s essential to relax into your taste. We have to intentionally shift from a state of movement to a state of perception. High levels of perception require relaxation. This relaxed perception grants us the ability to start listening to our intuition. Staying forever in motion can block us from this relaxation, and we’ll fail to have the benefits: improved taste, and thus better movement, better paintings. This is the editor.

Finally, it’s important to reflect from a place of abundance. Only resulting from both the creator and the editor, we’ll find satisfaction over our progress and outcomes over time. We must not highlight the gap, and instead highlight the new things we’ve learned, our expanded abilities.

Practice What You Preach

Lately I’ve been struggling with my own attachment to the outcome. I’ve been in a frantic mode of productivity, rarely letting myself fully settle into that mode of perception and editing. The trap that I’ve learned to overcome through the years of artistic production and weightlifting combined (from the lens above) is that progress doesn’t feel like progress.

We’re creatures who often choose to avoid pain rather than seek pleasure. To avoid pain, our inclination is to identify and label it—”I’m not making as much progress as I want, and that hurts” is a lot easier to focus on than “I’m more advanced than I was a year ago.”

Thus I’ve learned the best strategy is to count blessings. It’s better to list the things that are going well, rather than to focus excessively on the gap of “where I want to be.”

Painting Sales

April has been one of my best months for painting sales.

Back when I started this journey of self-employment, I asked myself, “what’s the ideal lifestyle?” My philosophy is that you should align on your lifestyle first, then figure out the logistics around making it work.

Truly, all I wanted was to paint, have clients arrive at my studio, buy a painting, then I’d drive it to their house and install it. That alone was my vision. I could devote most of my time to the creative process and avoid the fray of noise that is all too popular in art sales.

I had made a series of concessions in the name of “making it work.” I started telling myself things like, “I have to constantly make content.” “I need to ship paintings.” “I must go to shows and start selling prints.”

In making these concessions, I found myself in a demoralizing hole. I was livestreaming, trying to go viral on social media, running around frantically trying to “network.” I was packaging and shipping paintings, which I found unpleasant. None of this was explicitly in my vision— I just wanted to paint and put the pieces up where they’ll be appreciated.

Fortunately, as I’ve learned to lean into directly asking for my vision, I’ve found greater success. I feel like I finally cracked the code on advertising on Instagram in a way that aligns with my lifestyle.

But it truly does require one to ask for what they want. I first started making ads that were a bit ambiguous—”I’ll come hang this painting on your wall” was close, but it had nothing to do with connecting the dots— only after I made videos that were explicit about my asking price did I start to see them work.

The copy changed subtly from:

“Hey Phoenix, if this painting matches your vision, I’d love to come hang it in your space. It’s 36×48, so if you’ve got a wall for it, comment ‘PAINT’ below and I’ll tell you how to make it yours.”

to:

“Hello Phoenix, AZ! I’m looking to sell this painting locally in the Valley. It is called {title} and it is inspired by {stuff}. You can find out more about it in my profile, but overall, it’s 36×48, so if you’ve got a nice big spot for it, shoot me a DM and I’m happy to tell you more. I’m asking {price} for it including delivery and install. Thanks!”

See the difference? It’s funny how this works— I still recognize the power of “putting in the reps” here— I wouldn’t have landed on the second without the first. But one is clear and explicitly ties to my vision. The other dances around the idea.

Flex & Paint

In the past four months, I’ve spent a significant amount of time on my coaching program, Flex & Paint.

The point of the coaching isn’t purely “build muscle, get jacked.” There are other coaches better at getting people as jacked as possible in a short period of time. I also don’t agree with that as lifestyle-building— outcomes for the sake of outcomes. Instead, I teach a lot about aligning your actions to your identities, living in your body, and strategies for sustainable muscle growth. It’s essentially a crash course on sensory living vs schematic thinking.

Schematic thinking is the reason that the youth in particular feel poorly. This schematic thinking has been trained and ingrained by the school system and corporate work, and it has a few consequences: 1) you lose the ability to regularly live in your body, 2) you feel detached from your agency and how your inputs drive meaningful outputs, and 3) constant labeling, categorization, analysis, and optimization is your default mode of behavior, and that doesn’t feel good. Much like the synopsis above, the editor brain is in overdrive.

So, the gist of Flex & Paint is to learn how to more often live as the creator. We get reps in weightlifting and art with an emphasis on “getting out of your head.” Then the editor has something meaningful to chew on— which feels satisfying all around. Outputs and progress are inevitable, and the path is enjoyable— which is essential for long-term outcomes like physique change.

The coaching is going well. I’m picking up more clients. I’m glad to be at this current stage of building.

Thanks for reading,

— Kevin