Courage, Ghosts, and Authenticity
/Seventeen years ago, I went to a design conference in Chicago. There were a lot of speakers there. Like many speakers at these kinds of things, they were mainly there to pitch their books where they repeat other people’s ideas. All of them the same. They had more in common with motivational speakers than designers and artists. Phonies.
One lecturer wasn’t selling anything. Marshall Arisman told meaningful, sometimes hilarious, anecdotes about the world of professional art & design as well as how to be aware of, and avoid the leeches that attach themselves to it.
There was a moment where he started talking about the fictional character Mike Hammer, but he couldn’t quite place the name of the author who wrote the Hammer books. He looked out at the audience for help and I said “Mickey Spillane”. He looked weirdly at me, cracked a smile and said something like “You’re an awfully young guy to know who that is”.
Later I spotted him at the bar. I asked if I could sit on the stool next to him. He recognized me as the guy who answered his Mike Hammer question.
We talked about the gritty American detective archetype, Pablo Picasso, Sioux mythology, national animal avatars, and courage. He wanted me to have the courage to constantly challenge myself artistically and to make things that mean something. By that he meant that making things (art, illustration, music, writing, etc) that are important to you and maybe the world, takes real courage. The courage to recognize the best and worst parts of yourself, the people around you and the world. Then laying those things bare for the world to see. It means going into that dark night, finding something meaningful in it, then fighting like hell to bring it into the light. Art isn’t something that should always be easily digestible. If you ever looked at his work, you would see what he meant.
Ayahuasca Series 29
Little did I realize that, as we drank cocktails and smoked American Spirit cigarettes, I was absorbing a conversation that would turn my creative process on its head.
I remember so much of our conversation so well. But over the years, I have forgotten to apply it. Now, after reading about his passing away, I am left to rethink about what he said to me.
When my friend and illustration-collaborator, Tim Keller passed, I stopped drawing much. I stopped being brave, though I knew that is not what he would have wanted. But I would do a little something occasionally. Then, as I started post-op chemotherapy in December, my hands started to develop a tremor. So, with a heavy heart, I quit drawing entirely. Between those two things, I haven’t had much of a chance to post anything here either.
An artist friend called me recently and challenged me to keep drawing. We joked that I could call it “my shakey period”. She challenged me to have courage. Not that I had much time between sleeping and work, but I did start doodling again – nothing serious. Now that I am able to see the end of my chemotherapy, I am starting to be more hopeful that I can devote more time to illustration on a regular basis.
Marshall’s passing away has been a very poignant reminder that it will not be enough to just start illustrating again. Tim Keller would agree. So these ghosts are pushing me to pick up my pencils, pens and brushes again. But I also hear them saying that if I want any of it to mean anything, I will have to be brave about it too. And I guess I knew that, even without them on my mind.
“All The best.” - Marshall Arisman
I looked through my old sketchbooks/journals to find his autograph. In an ironic twist, that was around the same time that my father went through a great cancer trial himself. It was surreal to look through the notes to myself from that time. One note was about how my father seemed to face cancer with courage. And it took time for him to get through the toughest parts, but eventually he found what I called “providence”. I pray my post-chemo results are as favorable.
Here is to courage, ghosts, providence and being an authentic, encouraging (even if it meant being challenging) person like Marshall Arisman (October 14, 1938 - April 22, 2022).
