An Essay
Just be yourself. Be authentic. These seem like simple, easy instructions one can and should follow. Not just in life but in creative endeavors — especially in the creative worlds. Simple, right? Except what I experienced in my own life and heard from many others, the advice is vague at best. What happens when you are uncertain who you are? What should we do?
Think about it this way: we live in a culture where there are new genders being added increasingly to what many thought were only two — or at least a spectrum between two ends of male and female. Many in society are going through expensive surgeries to be physically altered to better align with what they think or believe themselves to be. This isn’t an indictment of trans or anything as one need only look at the booming industry that was plastic surgery long before this phenomenon ever appeared in mainstream culture. So when the advice of “being one’s self” is deployed, it is anything if not daunting.
How is anyone supposed to know their authentic self? Often the self changes when confronted with situation, people, mood, or role we are filling — be it parent, spouse, sibling, or dare I say… writer. What is it we are supposed to do? How does one be themselves?
Authenticity is a word we volley when referring to this idea. It is effectively the word used to denote someone who has achieved the outward manifestation of being themselves. In art, it is found in the works of someone creating for the act itself — art made for the sake of art.
We crave authenticity from what we see, and it is strange how easily we can detect it, when two pieces of art (be it painting, drawing, movie, book, song, or whatever) appear similar we often can detect that which was made with love and which was not. Maybe the artist is chasing something for popularity. Or money. Maybe they are creating to appease another person, trying to get someone’s approval. Perhaps they were misaligned with who they are in some way.
This last bit is an interesting idea. How do I figure out I am misaligned? Sometimes it can be either known or unknown. It’s as though there might exist a part of one’s being that remains aware of what we are when consciously we remain unaware. Another way to liken this is to the small bit of discontent or discomfort one feels in moving down a path they don’t want to but struggle at articulating why.
I discovered my deviation from authenticity when I struggled with a piece of work, an idea I found myself trying to form into something it wasn’t in order to appease some idea of an audience. If pressed about it too, I struggled to find an answer. Either way, the story floundered, lost direction, and I resented it. Eventually, I understood why.
For one thing, if one finds themselves doing anything with the only goal in their mind of popularity or fame, then they are moving in the wrong direction. I’ve done this and continue to do this. Because each time I have equated the idea of popularity with authenticity. Those two concepts have to be decoupled. Why would I want to be popular if I am not being authentic?
Audience capture is the à propos concept here, where one might try something as an experiment only to find it garners them considerable attention. Maybe the act was disliked by the creator; maybe the creator felt just so-so about it, neither enthusiastic nor apathetic about it. Either way, they find the amount of attention or money it gets them becomes too tempting to resist. Commence lather, rinse, repeat — eventually leading the person down a path they can’t escape.
Being popular and wealthy from my writing is a nice idea, sure. Quitting my job for the opportunity to write full time cannot happen without it. Would I be willing to sacrifice myself for it? Would I be willing to be locked into whatever path took me there in order to maintain it?
Of the classes I took in college, the most influential on my thinking here would have to be a class I took on the Devil in literature and culture, exploring the concept of the Faustian bargain in all forms of art. Whether one believes in an actual Satan, it is telling how we know when one sells themselves out. There need not be an actual demonic spirit anywhere in the discussion, yet we can understand when one sacrifices in this way, when they make a bargain in order to achieve superficial gains, sacrificing their own meaning, their own ideals. Fame and fortune, though in and of themselves being neutral, are far from fulfilling motivations. And it’s not to say they couldn’t be used as motivations, simply they shouldn’t be one’s primary goal.
Watching art in the modern realm quickly became an example of this concept. Replace Satan with an ideology, accolades, attention, or even simply the avoidance of attention, and one can see why art in the modern era appears so vapid and bland. People sell off what makes them unique in their own perspective in favor of conforming to something they decided was more important than the art itself. Conformity in and of itself isn’t evil, but doing so through the sacrifice of pursuing truth through art is, be it the personal or greater truths of the universe.
Even the simple act of blunting a knife to avoid harm can do this. Indeed, caring for the feelings of others in not an ignoble trait, but taken to any extreme and it ignores the feelings, right or wrong, of the artist. Jealousy, envy, anger, and hate, while considered ugly emotions, can lead to beauty and certainly can be an authentic trait. Erase them in the call to guard others from “harm” and the beauty is in fact destroyed. Truth is muted; art is bleached.
Modernity didn’t introduce these concepts; it simply packaged them up, mass-produced them, and delivered them via Amazon. Turned art into a commodity while insisting it had to appeal to a broader and broader audience to guarantee the maximum profit potential — meaning it also had to be made as cheaply as possible.
Art is not cheap. Not really. At the very least, it takes time, our most valuable resource. So the artist can (or really should) be quite reluctant to give away ideas to the whims of the money people. Sure, they have the money, the resources to nudge us in one direction or another, but like everything else, the power only exists as much as we allow it to.
Money is a singular facet here, though. It can also be the pursuit of prestige, approval, popularity, or anything of the sort. Fuck, what I see in our modern artistic landscape is our willingness to give away our very creations for the opportunity to get a pat on the head from someone saying, “you are a good artist”. It’s fucking bullshit if you ask me.
Am I not creating my art for me? Doesn’t matter what is driving me, only that the art means something personal and for the singular audience of myself.
Confidence in my work doesn’t matter if I like what I produce. There is no temptation to “fake it ‘til you make it”, which I think is the worst advice. Did I make it, or is it an imitation I am trying to perpetuate? Fake it long enough and it begs the question of what was ever real? Refer back to that audience capture bit. I get the emotion behind confidence, or lack thereof. It can be frustrating, for instance, when trying to get a story to move a particular way and being unable to figure out how. But that’s craft. That’s skill. Skills can be built; they can be honed.
Where does all this leave me and all the others looking to be authentic? How in the hell do we do it? How do we know we are?
I think it exists when I am adhering to my truth. Someone might laugh at the very idea considering how many people’s “truths” conflict with the very fabric of reality, but as a creative person, I see an almost spiritual element to the idea of creation. Call it a muse. Something else is there guiding me, and as long as I listen to her, I am in a good place. I call that truth. My work is better — even when everyone else might feel otherwise.
Others don’t need to like my art, much less understand it, so long as it is truly for me.
Ironically, viewing creativity in this way gives us artists the greatest opportunity for success. It also is the clearest path to the ephemeral, illusive voice.
Like anything, when I think too much about the very question of “what is my voice?”, I tend to wander off the path more quickly than if I ignore the concern.
But what about the audience?
Recent years have brought me to a point where I question why this is even a problem. If I am simply a content creator, churning out product for a consumer, then yes, I need to worry about maximizing the potential for the content to meet with eyeballs. Considering how I want to be an artist, then I truly have an audience of one: me.
Photo and words copyright © 2025 by Jeremy C Kester – all rights reserved.
Note: this is also cross-posted to Poetically Unlicensed on Substack
Jeremy C Kester 
Leave a comment