If someone had asked me 10 years ago where I’d think I’d be in my picture book career today, I’d probably have given them an answer and I’d probably have been wrong. I know I would not have said:
- I will feel like a more authentic version of myself.
- I will have more self-belief than self-doubt (on most days).
- I will have stopped working a day job for a while to focus on a personal project only because I believe in it.
- I will be more confident in my ability to draw almost anything (given enough time).
And yet, today, all these things are true.
Back then I probably would’ve tried to estimate how many books I’d have. Or how many awards I’d won? Maybe how many countries and translations, if any, I would have of my work? I probably would’ve tried to put a number on royalties or salary. For me, that would’ve been success.
Quantitative values give us a feeling of clarity; a mirage of certainty and solidity. If I can put a number on something, I can objectively compare that with others and, based on that comparison, I can more easily judge my ‘progress’: How many books do I have compared to another illustrator? How many followers? How many awards? Am I doing better or worse than my peers?
Of course, the problem with comparisons like this is that they provide a false yardstick for progress when it comes to what matters in an art practice. Quantitative comparisons are fundamentally market metrics. They don’t measure art progress, they measure commerce or ‘business’ effectiveness.
In art making, the only competition is oneself so the metrics need only relate to a previous version of yourself? How does my ‘today-me’ compare to ‘yesterday-me’? I can’t put a number on that but it also means I’m not ‘behind where I should be’, I just am where I am. And that’s far more rewarding.