Linchpin_ Are You Indispensable_ - Seth Godin [40]
accepting the status quo?
Passion isn't project-specific. It's people-specific. Some people are hooked on passion,
deriving their sense of self from the act of being passionate.
Perhaps your challenge isn't finding a better project or a better boss. Perhaps you need to
get in touch with what it means to feel passionate. People with passion look for ways to
make things happen.
The combination of passion and art is what makes someone a linchpin.
Touching Someone
Being open is art. Making a connection when it's not part of your job is a gift. You can
say your lines and get away with it, or you can touch someone and make a difference in
their lives forever.
This is risky and it's impossible to demand of someone. The decision to commit to the act
is a personal one, a gift from the heart.
Certain sorts of art make us cry without embarrassment.
Understanding Gifts
When a magazine sends a photographer to take a picture of a celebrity, it is paying the
photographer for a photo that's good enough to run in the magazine. The magazine is
expecting a certain standard of photograph, and it's a commercial transaction.
Anything the photographer contributes above that is a gift. The inspiration, the lighting,
or the surprise--that's a gift from the photographer to his client and to the readers of the
magazine.
Annie Leibovitz built her career around this gift. She was hired to do celebrity
photographs, but she kept pushing the limits. I would imagine that some of her shots were
a hard sell to clients who believed that they were buying yesterday's version of Annie, not
today's.
Over time, the gifts accrue and you have created a reputation.
There are two reasons to give a gift. I'm not so interested in the first one--reciprocity.
You give a gift to someone because then he will owe you. This is manipulative and it's no
way to build a career. Sociologist Marcel Mauss wrote about this a hundred years ago,
and he argued that entire primitive societies were built around this reciprocity. The
problem is that in capitalist societies, this instinct for reciprocity is easily misused.
The second reason, though, is fascinating. Gifts allow you to make art. Gifts are given
with no reciprocity hoped for or even possible. I can't give the artist Chuck Close
anything in return for the joy his low-resolution, hyperrealist paintings have given me. It's
a gift with no possibility of reciprocity. This gives Chuck room--room to be in charge,
room to experiment, room to find joy--because when he's painting, he's not punching a
time clock or trying to please someone who bought his time. He's creating a gift.
My fundamental argument here is simple: In everything you do, it's possible to be an
artist, at least a little bit. Not on demand, not in the same way each time, and not for
everyone. But if you're willing to suspend your selfish impulses, you can give a gift to
your customer or boss or coworker or a passerby. And the gift is as much for you as it is
for the recipient.
Who Is It For?
Some artists work to change themselves. The process of making the art and the results
produced are solely aimed at the creator. Whistling as you walk through the woods is a
form of art, but you're not doing it hoping a squirrel will applaud.
Most of us, though, most of the time, make our art for an audience. We want to change
someone else. We're seeking to make them happier, or more engaged, or a customer.
There are two reasons why it's vital to know whom you are working for. The first is that
understanding your audience allows you to target your work and to get feedback that will
help you do it better next time.
The other reason? Because it tells you whom to ignore.
It's impossible to make art for everyone. There are too many conflicting goals and there's
far too much noise. Art for everyone is mediocre, bland, and ineffective.
If you don't pinpoint your audience, you end up making your art for the loudest, crankiest
critics. And that's a waste. Instead, focus on the audience