The Vs. Studio Blog

“Success is peace of mind that is the direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” -John Wooden

For life and for anything we’re trying to do, it’s vital to know how we define success. It should be our own, personal definition.

It might take us a while to craft. And we might change and refine it over our lifetime. But we should have one and know it cold. Because it’s our anchor. Our North Star. Our constant way to measure if we’re living up to our own standards and highest ideals. Not subject to the whims of others or the prevailing culture.

The observer effect is a common principle in quantum mechanics. Basically, it states that the mere observance of an object changes the actual object. You can read more about it, including Schrodinger’s famous cat, HERE.

The Stoics advocate behaving as if someone is always watching you. Someone you admire and respect. Seneca called it having a “sage on your shoulder” at all times.

So, if you knew you were being observed and that the observance changed you, what would you do differently? What actions would you take or not take? What habits? What art might you create?

Let the observer effect inform what we think, say and do.

“I criticize by creation, not by finding fault.” -Marcus Tullius Cicero

It’s easy to know what we’re against. There’s a long list. And it’s the first step towards progress. But it can’t end there.

We must know what we’re actually for. What specific changes do we want to make? What new systems do we want to build? What art do we want to create?

The Franciscan Friar and great spiritual teacher Richard Rohr writes…we go from Order to Disorder to Reorder.

That’s where the work is. That’s the full journey we must go on.

I recently spoke to an actor friend who organized a Zoom play reading.

“I had no idea how much work goes into producing,” she said. She came away with a deep respect and appreciation for the job. She couldn’t imagine producing an actual run of a play. Let alone also acting in it.

Unless someone does our exact job, they won’t know what it’s like. Nor should we expect them to. We can save ourselves a lot of anguish by always giving them the benefit of the doubt. By not looking for thanks or praise or even empathy. If we get it, it’s a bonus, that’s all.

And because it’s often a lonely and thankless endeavor, we must produce what we’re extremely passionate about. That passion, that burning desire to manifest the idea in our heads, that’s what will pull us through the dark days.

We don’t get to decide how our art is received. If it is received. Who exactly will receive it.

That’s entirely up to the audience.

All we get to decide is if that idea in our head is worth spending precious time, effort and energy to create.

In finance, a sunk cost is defined as a cost that’s already been incurred and can’t be recovered. Classical economists argue that when making a rational decision, sunk costs should not be taken into account. They are bygone. All that should be considered are current alternatives and future consequences.

Sounds great in theory, but human beings are not often rational creatures. The psychology of sunk costs, knowing you spent lots of time and money pursuing one path, only to find it’s the wrong path, holds you back from making the best decision now. You do nothing. Or worse, you spend even more time and money pursuing the wrong path. Hence the phrase, “throwing good money after bad.”

Our fate is determined by the quality of the decisions we make. When taking action, we need to see things as they actually are. With clear eyes and hearts. Not as we wish them to be. All that matters is what we do now. In this moment. How we arrived here is irrelevant.

I saw an interview with Daniel Day Lewis (“DDL”) and Paul Thomas Anderson (“PTA”) discussing the making of the film “There Will Be Blood.” (If you haven’t seen the film or it’s been a while, go watch it. Now.) DDL worked for several years on the character of Daniel Plainview before shooting started. Getting the behavior, the posture, the voice, etc…just right. He showed up to the set, in character, as per his norm, utterly prepared. About a week in to shooting however, something wasn’t right. PTA sat DDL down, showed him the dailies. Said he needed to go in a different direction with the character. Day Lewis saw what he was doing on screen and agreed. They reshot the entire week.

How many of us in the same situation would have the courage, the openness, let alone, the ability, to pivot, to change on a dime? Especially when factoring all the sunk costs. Fortunately, both these artists only cared about what was right for the character and the film. They both bravely ignored ego and sunk costs and made a quality, new decision. The rest is Oscar history.

What sunk costs hold us back from choosing the right path, from making a decision, from making our art?

P.S. – For more on sunk costs, check out Seth Godin’s excellent Akimbo podcast episode HERE.

Be wary of putting anyone on a pedestal. They have many flaws and will let you down.

Be wary if anyone wants to put you on a pedestal. You have many flaws and will let them down.

We’re all deeply flawed.

We’re also capable of doing incredible things. Beautiful acts of kindness, generosity, bravery, and selflessness. Unbelievable accomplishments that make the world a better place.

Both of these things are true. At the same time. That’s the paradox we must always remember.

Great art helps us do that.

Making art can be a very lonely endeavor. We often feel like nobody’s out there. Nobody cares. Nobody wants to hear from us.

That’s ok. Keep going. Embrace the freedom that comes from dancing like nobody’s watching.

You’re on your way to making something amazing. I, and many others, can’t wait to see what you come up with.

We love watching people immersed in their craft. Fully engaged in what they’re doing. Entire television channels (The Food Network, HGTV, etc…) were created and organized around this principle.

This is especially true in our acting. We must be completely interested and totally engaged in whatever we’re doing. Whether it’s playing an action, doing behavior, or simply listening to the other actor, we must fully commit to it. With every fibre of our being. Be all in.

If we’re interested and engaged, the audience will be as well. Their minds and hearts will be open to the story we’re trying to tell.

And, not that we’re doing it for this reason, but we’ll be interesting to watch as well. That’s a nice bonus.

There’s an old adage: don’t ask a question if you’re afraid of the answer.

But to get better, to grow as an artist, you need a few people you can trust. People who get you and the change you’re trying to make. If you have them in your life now (they are rare), cherish them. Hold on to them at all costs.

If you don’t, seek them out.

A personal story to reinforce this principle…

Our theatre company, Vs., was a few years in. We had successfully produced several plays, including our debut, “The Credeaux Canvas” by Keith Bunin, which was a smash hit and put us on the map. We were getting good reviews and houses, but I felt maybe, we had plateaued a bit. I sat down with a friend and fellow theatre maker whose work I very much admired. I asked him what we could do better. He was generous and honest with his feedback which was centered around improving some of our production design elements.

While it was tough to hear in the moment, he was right. That conversation led to searching for and eventually finding the incredible designers we have today. They’ve been with us for over a decade now, they’re family, and their artistry is now one of our theatre company’s greatest’s strengths.

I’m eternally grateful to them and to my friend.

You’re strong. You’re resilient. You’re generous. You’re doing art for all the right reasons. Because of that, you can handle it.

You can handle the truth.