About a year ago, while I was still employed by Michaels, I received a phone call from a well-known artist. My company did business with the company for which she was a spokesperson. I’ve met this artist before, and know her to be rather outspoken, which is part of what makes her creative style so interesting to me. Her outspoken nature is translated directly to her visual work, which is bold and loud and outrageous. I love it.

The artist and I spoke for about ten minutes about a project our companies were working on. We came to an agreement about what she would do, and what I would do, and concluded the business portion of the call. She then spent the next ten minutes chewing me a new one over my company’s various policies, and reaming me because in her opinion, we didn’t do enough to promote individual artists. This was true, but then, Michaels is not in the business of promoting artists—they’re in the business of selling craft products. Because of the business relationship I had with this artist, I basically had to sit there and take it, although I did manage to get one or two words in occasionally, and let her know that I helped develop many of the policies to which she objected.

Now, I’m a huge admirer of this artist’s work, and have been for many years. One would think that getting such a major reaming would change that. Nope. I still admire her work. The fact that she needed to vent about some issues that are important to her did not change that for me. I know how to separate the art from the artist. I also know that her opinions are part of what makes her unique, and make her the artist that she is. Although I don’t enjoy being chewed on, I wouldn’t change this woman for anything.

Very often, I am told that I lack humility, or that I’m not humble enough when it comes to my work. It’s true. I’m not humble in the least. I see no reason to be humble—it’s a waste of my time. I worked my ever-growing ass off to get where I am today. I have a confidence and fearlessness about my work that I would love to bottle and give away. Too many artists I’ve worked with lack those qualities, and it holds them back. I see no reason not to stand up and say to the world, “This is my work, and I like it, and to hell with everyone who doesn’t!”.

There is an odd idea floating about that artists should somehow be held to some higher standard. If you’re a brilliant artist, you should also be humble and sweet and kind. That’s crap. Being a good artist does not make you a good person—in fact, some of the most brilliant artists I know are complete jerks. That doesn’t make them any less brilliant. The people they are is part of what makes them the artists they are, and I would not tamper with that for anything in the world.

Artists are not saints. We’re people with feelings and opinions and emotions. To expect us to be any more than that is completely unrealistic, and extremely unfair. Most of us don’t want to be anyone’s patron saint. We do not set out to be admired as people—we set out to be artists. We want to make some stuff, and to be free to express ourselves creatively. If you enjoy that creative expression, great. If not, move on.