The Artist’s Eternal Battle Against “Helpful” Advice

There’s a universal truth about being an artist: at some point, you will find yourself sitting across from a random business “expert” who has absolutely no idea what to do with you.

This isn’t to say business programs are all bad—some programs out there are fantastic for small creative businesses. But every now and then, the system spits out someone whose entire entrepreneurial philosophy is deeply allergic to creativity.

Take, for instance, my brilliant artist friends—creative powerhouses who could probably design an entire alternate universe if left alone in a room with enough coffee and a glue gun. They dabble in a variety of art—puppet-building, drawing, painting, animation, candle-making, writing, and photography. Storytelling is at the heart of everything they do, whether through short stories, photographs, puppetry, or a collection of unique candle scents. Their mission is simple: create something fun and unique to share with the world while embracing a life of adventure, travel, and boundless creativity.

They recently got into a really good business program that would give them access to a business coach, which sounds great in theory. A chance to learn, expand, and take their art to the next level. Except… the coach was the human embodiment of a beige PowerPoint presentation on “synergy.”

My friends, fueled by artistic chaos and brilliance, met with this coach, eager to share their vision. The response?

“Puppets are dead.”

I repeat: puppets. are. dead.

Now, I don’t know about you, but last time I checked, puppets were very much alive, thriving, and probably plotting world domination (because have you met puppeteers? They have plans). The coach then proceeded to tell them that pretty much, everything they were doing was wrong—not “needing refinement,” not “requiring a strategic tweak,” just wrong.

I’m sure he didn’t mean to sound like a robot programmed to discourage anyone who doesn’t sell widgets at Walmart, but let’s be real—this is a tale as old as time.

Artists and the Box That Does Not Fit

The biggest battle for artists isn’t making art. It’s dealing with people who just don’t get it. Many people love art and artists. But some have no idea what actual art is. Those people like art only in safe, pre-approved formats:

• Big blockbuster movies? Love it.
• Art prints at Target? Aesthetic!
• Pre-made sculptures made out of recycled toaster parts with an interactive light show? What is this sorcery?

Too many business “experts” view creative careers through the lens of traditional marketing strategies. They want to fit us into their pre-cut, shrink-wrapped boxes, and if we don’t fit? Well, obviously, it’s because we’re wrong.

It’s frustrating, it’s exhausting, and it’s deeply stupid. Because here’s the thing:

• Art is not meant to fit in a box.
• Art is not safe.
• Art is the wild, untamed, chaotic force that dares to bring something new into the world.

That’s why artists struggle when they encounter people who insist on the “proven” way of doing things. Those “proven” methods only work for things that already exist. But we’re here to create what doesn’t exist yet.

If we followed the “rules,” we wouldn’t have surrealism, street art, or the entire concept of animation (which, fun fact, was also declared “a waste of time” once).

The Real Problem: Judgment Disguised as Advice

Let’s be honest, the hardest part of being an artist isn’t the work—it’s the constant judgment. It’s the well-meaning “concern” from people who act like we’re throwing our lives away because we don’t have a LinkedIn profile filled with business achievements.

It’s the casual dismissals. The naysaying. The patronizing conversations where someone talks to you as if you’re a wayward toddler instead of a highly skilled creative professional.

And I get it. It stings. It’s frustrating. It makes you want to throw a puppet at someone’s head just to prove that, no, they are not dead.

But I want you to remember something very important: their opinions do not define your potential.

At the end of the day, no one has walked in your shoes. No one knows what you are capable of. No one can tell you what’s possible unless you let them.

If they don’t get it? That’s their loss. There are plenty of people who will.

Some Advice for When the World Doesn’t Get You

1. Trust Your Vision – If your ideas excite you, they are worth pursuing. The greatest creative breakthroughs have always started as something that others dismissed as too weird, too different, or too impractical. Keep going.
2. Consider the Source – If someone gives you advice, ask yourself: does this person have experience in what I do? Do they understand the creative world? If not, take their words with a grain of salt. Some people give advice because they want to help. Others do it because they can’t handle anything outside of their own limited perspective.
3. Remember, Everything New is “Impossible” at First – The lightbulb was ridiculous before it worked. The internet was a joke before it changed the world. Animation was “silly” before it became a multi-billion dollar industry. Every great idea looks strange to the people who can’t see beyond what already exists.
4. Surround Yourself with People Who Get It – There will always be voices telling you to stop, to do something safer, to follow the well-worn path. The key is to tune them out and listen instead to the people who understand your vision—the ones who push you forward instead of holding you back.
5. Let Rejection Be Your Fuel – If someone tells you it can’t be done, take that as a personal challenge. The best revenge against doubters is to succeed in a way they never saw coming.
6. Create Anyway – At the end of the day, art is about making something because it needs to exist. Whether the world is ready for it or not, whether the business experts approve or not, whether it fits in their box or not—create anyway. Because what you make might be the very thing that changes everything.

So go forth and keep making things that don’t fit in a box. The world needs you, even if some people are too narrow-minded to see it.