Weirdos

The art world is not fair. It is flawed in so many ways. When I started The Artist's Office, I understood that the systems I was inviting artists to participate in were flawed. Open calls, grants, networking, pursuing "opportunities"—these are all a part of a faulty system that suggests career benchmarks that do not have equitable pathways for reaching them.
 
Some artists have seen the problems and decided to not participate. They have taken a cue from Lee Lozano by withdrawing from the problematic systems and have been willing to take the hit on their careers if participating means compromising. I get it.  
 
My perspective has always been that by participating, I will come to understand where all the problems are. I will become intimately aware of the different nuances, biases, and hacks of these systems and then this knowledge can translate into change.
 
Over the years, I have taken countless workshops, read books, joined groups, and listened to podcasts that sell ideas (knowledge, systems, shortcuts, networks) to artists desperate to move forward in their careers. I have sought out tools and tricks that I can implement and pass on to other artists. Like a moth to a flame, I understand the allure of answers to big career questions as if I have gone 20 years and just missed the one crucial piece of information about how to make it as an artist.
 
So why continue? 

I am always amazed at the resilience of artists. Artists are asked to endure all kinds of embarrassments, discouragements, and outrage but somehow we keep on truckin'. I am also emboldened by artists who have the wisdom to opt out when participation would cross a line of comfort, available resources, or personal values.
 
Artists have been dealing with this for decades, maybe hundreds of years. Thinking outside the box, challenging norms, being a visionary in a time that isn't prepared for you...often society doesn't know what to do with artists and how to support them, financially or ideologically. But the life and career of an artist come with a great deal of freedom and autonomy, things that I don't think I could trade in for a 9-5 job. 

I recently went to a talk at Zwirner and sat by two chatty (non-art world) people who had recently discovered how magical art can be.  They realized that Los Angeles has this expansive art scene and they could absorb endless culture for free. When they found out I was an artist, it was like they had just discovered a walk-up taco shop that had no line and a Michelin star. I was a unicorn to them. Through their eyes, I felt respected and appreciated.
 
I am a part of a lineage of visionaries, revolutionaries, culture-shapers, and weirdos. It's pretty great company and having access to this community is the next best part of being an artist after all that freedom. I will keep participating in the art world, choosing what this looks like, and working to change things for the better in solidarity with my weirdos. 

Lee Lozano, General Strike Piece, 1969