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The semantics matter here, because we're going to explore what it is to make art, and we

need to decide what art is before we can determine if that's useful to you. So, back to my

definition:

Art is a personal gift that changes the recipient.

An artist is an individual who creates art. The more people you change, the more you

change them, the more effective your art is.

Art is not related to craft, except to the extent that the craft helps deliver the change.

Technical skill might be a helpful component in making art, but it's certainly not

required. Art doesn't have to be decorative; it can be useful as long as the use causes

change.

Art is certainly not limited to painting or sculpture or songwriting. If there is no change,

there is no art. If no one experiences it, there can be no change.

By definition, art is human. A machine can't create art, because the intent matters. It's

much more likely to be art if you do it on purpose.

A cook is not an artist. A cook follows a recipe, and he's a good cook if he follows the

recipe correctly. A chef is an artist. She's an artist when she invents a new way of

cooking or a new type of dish that creates surprise or joy or pleasure for the person she

created it for.

Art is original. Marcel Duchamp was an artist when he pioneered Dadaism and installed a

urinal in a museum. The second person to install a urinal wasn't an artist, he was a

plumber.

Art is the product of emotional labor. If it's easy and risk free, it's unlikely that it's art.

The last element that makes it art is that it's a gift. You cannot create a piece of art merely

for money. Doing it as part of commerce so denudes art of wonder that it ceases to be art.

There's always a gift intent on the part of the artist.

Organizations use human-created art all the time. The design of the iPhone is art. It

changes the way some people feel. It changes the way they use the device. It changes the

way they communicate. And there is a gift as well. People who see the iPhone but don't

buy one still receive the gift. An ugly iPhone would cost as much as the beautiful one.

The beautiful part is the free prize inside, the bonus, the gift to us from the artist who

designed it.

The Art of Interaction

Most artists (in our imagination) interact with stones or canvas or oil or words on paper.

They do this before their work hits the viewer, causing an interaction or change to

happen.

But the most visceral art is direct. One to one, mano a mano, the artist and the viewer. It's

the art of interaction. It's what you do.

The art of running a meeting, counseling a student, conducting an interview, and calming

an angry customer. The art of raising capital, buying a carpet at a souk, or managing a

designer.

If art is a human connection that causes someone to change his mind, then you are an

artist.

What if you were great at it?

There's a Village in China

Outside of Shenzhen lies Dafen. It's said that 60 percent of all the paintings in the world

are produced by painters who live in this town.

Notice I said "painters," not "artists." That's because the workers in Dafen, while diligent

and talented, aren't artists. They are cogs in a painting machine.

I own two paintings from Dafen. They are beautifully executed large paintings of stupid

monkeys in ill-fitting clothes. One is a male chimp with a beanie, a propeller, and

earrings. The other is a baby orangutan with a bow in her hair.

I got them on eBay, shipped (framed) directly from Dafen, for sixty dollars each.

Who knows which Dafen resident painted them? No one. Who cares? No one. The

painters are replaceable; they are human machines thrown against a large problem,

producing little bits of value each day.

The real artists are the people who dreamed up this system, or possibly the person who

drew the first example of my little chimp man. But not the painters. They're virtually

helpless victims of a large system that pays them very little for the talent