Be a servant and show your work

In some ways, to share one’s work is to risk being put in a box. I have always struggled with this. As an artist, and craftsperson, I invest time and development into my God-graciously-given gifts, working words and music and concepts into different mediums. And once it’s out there, the work is no longer mine. 

The public—or publics; there are many different circles and markets—owns it, whether we like it or not.

And in this way, the message is the medium. I believe the package the content comes in, is equally as important.

I have a diversity of mediums I have worked with in my writing. Songs, longform investigative journalism, picture captions, interviews, ghostwriting for others, marketing content, health reports, tweets, speeches, opinion editorial, reporting, cheat sheets. 

And so it is important to remember, for what purpose is this piece? Who will consume this as a product? In what context is this going to be presented to others? (Side note: Oh, how the world wide web has completely skewed context. One can never properly research something from a smartphone or computer in a single room. Nuances are missed without being in a room, having face-to-face discussions, researching and enquiring with your real hands and your voice). But if we spend too much time concerned about how our work will be received, perhaps we are missing the point of the work.

And it is here the conundrum lies. How do I show my work? Do I get paid for an editor to do with it as he or she wishes? Do I publish myself and risk missing out on a wider audience? Am I so purist that I do not want anyone to touch a thing? Do I need a partner on this? I believe the answers are not straightforward. I believe the right thing to do is different for every piece of art you create. 

What I do know, however, is that the control is out of your hands once it is released. The reader, the listener, the spectator has a complex, and unique, pair of glasses on that will influence how they receive your work. 

The space between creating and presenting is a big chasm in which artists of all types feel uneasy, anxious, and conflicted. When is this art ready to give away? Are “they” ready to receive? Are they even expecting to receive anything? Am I ready to expose myself in this way? 

And this, I believe, is where we as artists become servants. Generous with our souls, not being too contrived in the delivery, but still being smart and sensitive to appropriate times and places and people. Reading the room, is essential. 

Every record, every book, every news report, every analysis, every tweet, and every image needs context. Your art needs context. How will you navigate this?

Whatever the case may be, the compulsion to create should slightly overtake the compulsion to pleas—-or in some cases, even confront—and that wisdom, I believe, only comes by following the voice of the Holy Spirit, and being obedient to His direction. I say “slightly” lest we fall into the common trap of being a lone artist who never considers anyone except themselves. But if we rely on God to direct us, He will always require us to become servants. 

Create to give away.

Perhaps He may say it’s time to publish something that makes no sense to you. But perhaps this timing will help someone. We have no idea. He does. 

Julie Kerr is a singer/songwriter from Sydney Australia. 

Follow her music on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/artist/3s1SzX3k0yUpLH7BAh43hE?si=6BMX6nrGRDCGvgChsj8D3Q