After three months in Thailand and two transformative months in the beautiful land of Cambodia, I find myself back in Cairo with the goal of finishing a number of projects started this year, and picking up old ones that were left for later.

I’m fairly good at having ideas and starting new things, but finishing projects and shipping my own work has always been the Achilles heel of my artistic life. I noticed that if I am doing work for someone else, I push through and get it done - on time and on spec. But when it comes to my own personal creations, the dragons seem to always be guarding the gates at the finish line, and the fight is forever postponed. Maybe for when I get a better sword. And a shield. Oh, and a whole army would be lovely, thank you.

Why is that?

Thankfully I am not alone in this minor artist’s drama, and authors like Steven Pressfield already laid down the answers on books like ‘The War of Art’. He calls this Resistance, “with a capital R”, where the things you most need to do are the things you will resist the most.

On one level, I already achieved goals I said would make me happy (shout out to Chris Williamson for this framing). I am a full-time creator, traveling around the world with my lovely wife since 2020, exploring cultures at our own pace and being our own bosses. That was already an impossible dream for the 2007 government-employee version of me (a story for another time). But that is not me anymore. Since then, I moved to Canada, became a professional photographer and musician, got married to the woman I love. I started a whole new chapter. The dragons of the 9-5 life have been slain a long time ago, but they have been replaced by meaner bosses on this next level, thanks to the alchemy of Resistance.

What am I resisting? What is the task I am avoiding? What is the lesson the work is trying to teach?

The answer seemed to be I needed to actually ship that pesky artistic thing stuck in limbo - a version of which we’ve all avoided at some point, like, you know, when we are awake. 

In my case it’s not one pesky artistic thing, but about 20. Here is my problem: I start an ungodly amount of projects, leave some in the land of potential, and soon start a new one. That creates multiple open loops, and in no time I find myself unmotivated, bored, stuck, and even suppressing new ideas. What is the point of starting new things if I’m not going to ship them? 

Another fun trap is that the longer it takes to finish something, the more spectacular and ultimately redeeming that thing must be. Ah, the games we play with ourselves.

It’s like when you are out of shape and your brilliant idea is to only leave the couch when you are ready to run the marathon. No light at the end of that tunnel. 

To me, the solution was somewhat simple: finish the damn thing. Ship it. Only then start the new one. 

So I came up with marching orders for my next two months in Cairo:

1- Choose a thing. Today. What thing? Something that can be done in a week.

2- Finish one thing this (and every) week. Something predefined and concrete. 

3- If it’s a longer-term project, have a milestone to finish. For instance, one of my slow cooking dishes is an art installation that includes photos, videos and music. A milestone would be ‘finish the 1st photo’. You get the idea. Long-term just means there are more next actions to finish it. Find an action that can be done this week.

4- Treat personal deadlines as if it was a client’s. It just so happens that you are the client. And the client deserves good work.

It took me a while to get off the couch, start the marathon, but this week I finished a thing. I thought I needed to have the perfect process to get it done, almost be someone else, someone better. What I didn’t realize is that finishing the work is part of a larger process. And THAT process is what we are seeking as artists - a process filled with all the finished things that we made. 

Hope this was useful. Oh, and my thing is coming out this week. :)