It’s whiny to complain about having to sell our art. It comes from an entitled place, where we think we must be such geniuses that other people would be lucky to sell our work for us.

It takes a lot of confidence to forge into unknown creative territory, telling yourself you’ll figure it out along the way. But there’s another kind of confidence.

“If you're the duck, you have to sit cross-legged in a circle alongside dozens of other ducks, waiting patiently to be chosen. Sometimes you get picked. Most of the time you don’t.“

Social media platforms make analytics easy. You can see the views, comments likes, shares, saves, profile visits, and follows that each piece of content earned. But just because these numbers are focal doesn’t meant mean they’re the numbers we should be focusing on. 

“I can only make sense of my unaccountable good fortune by assuming that it means I am under special obligation to make good use of it.”

Today is the 100th day of the year, and this is my 100th blog in 100 days. Here are four things I’ve learned. 

Something interesting I’ve discovered while taking on daily challenges is this: about once every six weeks, I really don’t want to do the work. Today is one of those days.

“Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art.”

Seth Godin has published a short blog every single day for more than 10,000 days in a row. Beeple has created a new digital artwork from start to finish every single day for 6551 days. You might be reading these facts and thinking to yourself, “I could never do that. I’m not that kind of person.”

In December of 2014, a friend and I drove to Hollywood to see an obscure poet-turned-rapper. Ten years later, an important realization came around.

“Is this tennis? Grinding for a year and a half, and then you lose to a guy who has a knee brace on?”

We make a promise to ourselves to show up and work on our art, but when we don’t, nothing bad happens. People don’t yell at us, we don’t get fired, art doesn’t stop hanging out with us. It’s all fine. 

Reframing is free. It changes nothing—but it could change everything for you. 

Beyond the sheer amount of time it wastes, daydreaming gives a sense of satisfaction before anything is accomplished. It sets our expectations for success way too high, especially early on. 

For some reason, we tend to believe that our creative inspirations had perfect conditions while they were creating. We think they achieved exactly what they hoped for—that they brought their imagination to life just as it existed in their minds. This is not true. 

Your mind is waiting near the host’s booth, craning its neck over a phone, checking its watch every two minutes, tapping its foot while it glances daggers at you. 

The things I’ve failed at in the past are better indicators of a future path than new things. If I’ve failed at them before, that means I’ve already gotten far enough to fail. 

I just went on a run. I didn’t not feel like a runner. I felt more like one of those wooden figures artists use to pose a body shape. My legs felt wooden. I had to work to get them to move.

Dan Harmon, who wrote a few hit TV shows, said this on a podcast once. “You’re trying to prove you are a good writer. That’s what’s blocking you.” 

Remember—your hair would get windblown. Your eyes would get dry. Your lips would get chapped. It would be pretty cold. The adrenaline rush would leave you exhausted.