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  • Transmission 9 - The Artist's Dilemma: Expressing Beliefs through Creativity

    December 16, 2023 22 min read

    In episode 9 of "There Is No System," titled "The Artist's Dilemma: Expressing Beliefs through Creativity" host Brian Behm, an Austin-based motion designer, artist, musician, and Art Director at Emergent Order Foundation, delves into the intricate balance between artistic creativity and personal ideologies. Drawing from his experiences in the art world and as the art department head at Rooster Teeth, Brian reflects on the constant mental tug-of-war between one's artistic soul and ideological brain.

    This episode unpacks the inherent struggle in creating art that genuinely reflects personal beliefs without succumbing to societal pressures or ideological tribes. It discusses the challenges faced by artists who straddle different viewpoints, especially those leaning towards classical liberalism or other non-dominant ideologies. Brian emphasizes the importance of fostering a marketplace of ideas, advocating for a creative expression that's not bound by a single narrative or ideology.

    Exploring concepts like intersectionality and epistemic humility, Brian proposes recontextualizing these ideas to enhance artistic expression. He shares his journey of balancing risk-taking in art with personal and familial considerations, illustrating the tightrope walk between daring creativity and societal acceptance.

    The episode aims to empower artists to embrace their unique blend of creativity and personal beliefs, encouraging them to stir the pot of conventional artistic expression. Brian's goal is to ignite a dialogue about the role of gatekeeping in the arts and its impact on creative freedom, urging listeners to reflect on their own artistic journeys and the influences shaping them.

    Written and performed by Brian Behm
     Original Music (unless noted) by Brian Behm/No_System
     Stock Music provided through Audiiio
    Music Included In This Episode
    Que Parks - Unlock (Get Ready For It)(Instrumental)

    Adi Goldstein - Inspiring Heights (Pt.2)(Instrumental)

    Adi Goldstein - Morning Spring (Instrumental)

    Adi Goldstein - Magic Hour (Instrumental)(Loop)

    Adi Goldstein - Safe Ride Home (vers 1)

    Beach Tiger - Numb (Instrumental)

    Liam Back - Innocence (Instrumental)

    Rhodan - Bloom (Instrumental)

    The Purple Kite - It's Time To Start Something New (Instrumental)

    The Prams - Now That We're Far (Instrumental)

    Yair Cohen - Haze (Instrumental)

    -- clips used or referenced

    The Crow Hill Company: Make Music, YOUR Music.

    Death of a Salesman Trailer

    Cars Sink Through Ice on Lake Pepin

    Truck Falls Through Ice on Lake Hanska in Southern Minnesota

    Harvard, Hamas, and the Barbaric Death Of Discourse In The West

    The Walk

    Take a look at No_System’s apparel and accessories at nosysknows.com ——-
    Transcripts available at nosysknows.com/podcast

    Please like and review on your favorite podcast platform of choice. If you get something out of it, please share it with a friend.

    Soundtracks available on most streaming platforms


    Apple Music:https://music.apple.com/us/artist/nosystem/511989797

    Transcript --


    How often do you find yourself in a mental tug of war with your artistic soul on one side and your ideological brain on the other? If you're nodding along, you're in good company. Something that I've struggled with and it's kind of like we're all undercover agents in the Cold War of Creativity and belief systems.

    The Voice of God:

    There was

    The Voice of God:

    No system.

    The Voice of God:

    There is

    The Voice of God:

    No system,

    The Voice of God:

    No system. Episode nine, artistic Allegiances, exploring the tightrope walk between personal beliefs and artistic expression. To know more about no system , visit nosy knows.com .


    Welcome back to There Is No System. I'm Brian Beam , uh, motion designer, artist, musician, and art director based in Austin, Texas. I'm currently the art director at Emergent Order Foundation and I spent many years before that building the art department of Rooster Teeth . If you'd like to see what we're up to at no system , check out nosy nos.com , N-O-S-Y-S-K-N-O-W-S, and quick heads up. I'm starting to brainstorm some concepts for a no System Patreon. If you have any wild or wonderful ideas or even just some show feedback, drop me a note at nosis@nosynos.com. That'll also be in the show notes.

    Today we're diving head first into a series of episodes on maybe not the Spiciest topic, but a little spicy balancing creating art and your personal beliefs. In my life and in the rollercoaster that's been my career, I've found myself drawn to artists and thinkers and friends who see the world differently than I do. It's weird, right? Their views could be as different from mine as oil and water, but there's something in their work or just who they are that just clicks every election cycle. Some musicians are angry that someone is playing their music with an opposing viewpoint and all the time between elections. It's not like plenty of artists hide their opinions and refrain from sharing their beliefs. Most of the time, their sharing tends to trend one way, mainly towards the left. Those who lean to the right either don't think of themselves as artists or aren't people currently in the vanguard. I spent a lot of time thinking about it as someone who would identify as a classical liberal.

    One of the guys that , uh, has helped my thinking before he went through his evangelical transformation was a man named Frankie Shafer and he wrote about how Christians should be impacting art. Not a perfect analogy to talk about Christians in art and right-leaning people in art, but I still think both communities have strayed away from the art world and as someone who believes in the idea that Andrew Breitbart preached that politics is downstream from culture. If we're gonna change the world, we need to impact it in the way that the world is most greatly impacted, and that's making great art. My ultimate goal for no system has been to encourage people who may not have seen themselves as someone who can create and change their worlds. I want someone to feel like they have agency, and for the record that's not necessarily about ideology. I want to do what I can to foster a marketplace of ideas. We're stronger when talking about and not hiding the things we believe in, and when one side or another has a monopoly on feeling free to talk about their world, that's not a healthy situation.

    One of the ways I've been thinking about the way we approach the crossover of art and ideology is to look at it through the idea of intersectionality. You know, the buzzword, which is usually about identities clashing. I actually think there's a way to twist and recontextualize it. Picture this, what if instead of looking at intersectionality through the guise of how people are oppressing and being prejudiced against us, it's about the unique cocktail of our creative flare and personal ideologies. I think that, and I guess it's a Venn diagram, is interesting and maybe I want to twist the definition of intersectionality because I think it's destructive on some level.

    I know I'm a middle aged, almost middle, upper class white man , and except for the fact that I have ADHD , which makes me neurodiverse, I have much less right , unquote , to speak than someone else. I want opportunities for everyone to participate and create, but I think there's more to it than that. It's like finding out your favorite drink is a mix of two things you never thought would go together. I guess I'm trying to use my privilege to do good things in the world, but back to Venn diagrams for a second. Whether you're rocking out to punk will advocating for conservative values or you're a classical liberal who can't get enough of modern art, it's all part of your unique story. It's what sets you apart and what gives your art a unique zinging.

    I joked about it before, but I find quite a bit of inspiration in Austrian economics. It's very different from the design world, but I still find a lot of things that resonate inside of emergent order. The company where I spend my days started because my boss, John Papola , found economic papers impenetrable. They're really not written for people to absorb. Well, not all people, they have a lot of wisdom in them, but ideas are conveyed through storytelling, and storytelling isn't something most economists are good at. John was using his daily commute to better understand the 2008 financial crisis. As he dug into papers and podcasts, he contacted economist Russ Roberts to collaborate on a project unpacking John Maynard Kane's and Friedrich Hayek's fight over differing ideologies. There's a good chance that if you lean libertarian, you've probably seen the rap battle they put together or one of its sequels.

    One of the things I appreciate about John , and frankly he doesn't listen to this podcast, so he probably won't hear this, is that he was able to bring his intellectual wonkiness alongside his creativity. I remember seeing the video when it first appeared and being really inspired by the idea that other people like me were trying to combine these things. I didn't know who the filmmakers were, but I knew that I wanted to know them, and now I guess I do. So if you've ever felt like your own crowd might give you the side eye for your mix and match approach to art and beliefs, and you don't feel like you're necessarily allowed to be who you are, I hope you find this episode to be your jam. My goal is that it's a green light for you to break the mold. We don't have to be just one thing or another. We're a wild, fabulous mix of everything. So let's stir the pot and see what bubbles up. Welcome to part one. It's time to get started.

    The Voice of God:

    Section one, the artistic dilemma and tribal wiring, the pull towards ideological tribes.


    So what's with our human obsession with ideological tribes? It's not just a random quirk or a byproduct of bad luck. No, it's all wired into our brains. Think about our ancient ancestors. For the most part, they have the same brains. We do, well, not the same brains, but brains that were fundamentally the same. When you're looking at timescales development, the difference between the first people and us when you're talking about geological timelines is, is really nothing. They had the instinct that straying from the tribe wasn't just socially awkward, but a fast track to becoming prehistoric Kitty chow Getting exiled was the original game over.

    Think about when you moved into a new place. Those first few days, you're in new surroundings and you're not completely settled. When you go to bed, you're on edge and that's your lizard brain feeling uncomfortable. It's your lizard brain keeping you safe. It's the same instinct. We still play by those ancient rules. Our tribal instincts haven't just poofed into oblivion. In fact, in this hyperconnected world, their tribal drives are turbocharged. We're forming communities faster than ever are at least online ones, but instead of dodging saber tooth tigers, we're navigating an ideological jungle.

    Think about your brain as a secret agent. It's always on the lookout. It's guarding your social standing like the crown jewels and shaming is one aspect of that tribalism. It's kicking someone out of the tribe like white blood cells attacking a perceived virus, but in order to understand it, we're gonna have to grab our metaphorical binoculars and go on a safari into the heart of the creative wilderness. Let's see how our tribal wiring plays out in the artistic realm and at what it means for those of us that want to be the creative rebels in our world.

    The Voice of God:

    The eternal struggle, creativity versus conformity.


    When it comes to creativity, it's all about kicking down boundaries, not politely stepping over them. It's where your internal monologue is all punk rock while you're also secretly humming. Taylor Swift's love story, no judgment, we all have that one song that's our not so guilty pleasure high school. I went through a Tom Jones phase. There's, it's nothing quite like crooning out. It's not unusual. It is not unusual to read podcast scripts and yeah, let's, let's not get started.

    You , you don't want to hear me singing right now, but our ancient fear of being the odd one out can clash with our burning desire to create and break the mold. The key is that it's not about picking sides, but finding that sweet spot where, where rebellion stops completely conflicting against acceptance. Have you ever felt that stomach twist when you're on the edge of defying the norm? That's your primal brain going into meltdown sounding alarms left and right. It's practically screaming. Warning, don't wander off or you'll be the main course for a saber tooth tiger. But here's the twist. If we always play it safe and always color inside the lines , can we truly call what we're making art when we don't go far enough? It's what Father Bronx from the Make Art Not Content Podcast might call content. It's disposable. It doesn't change anything. If we wanna create soul stirring art, we have to intentionally skate on thin ice, something that I'm still learning to do something that isn't natural. I grew up in Minnesota and every year there'd be some idiot on either side of the freeze or thaw who would drive their truck out into a lake to get a day of ice fishing in. All too often that truck would go through the ice

    WCCO News Anchor:

    Officials in South Central Minnesota are warning about thin ice. The Brown County Sheriff shared these pictures of a truck that went through the ice on Lake Ska, which is south of New Walm . Both people did make it out safely, and they're now working to try to pull that truck out of the water.


    The heart of no system is our bold dive into intellectual curiosity, but when we drive out under the ice, there's always the chance that we're gonna break through.

    WCCO News Reporter:

    On Saturday, Brock says the parking lot was full, so drivers started parking on the lake. He watched from afar as six vehicles fell through the ice and had to be a real di .

    Ice Fishing Enthusiast:

    I felt bad for 'em because I mean, it can happen to anybody, and they, they didn't know that they shouldn't have been parking out there.


    We flaunt our geekiness like a medal of honor, but I'll admit sometimes I've tried too hard to blend in. Instead of creating work that was authentically no system, I created designs that were fine, but not something someone else could have done. I want people to like me just as much as anyone else, and sometimes that's led me to doing the safest and least exciting thing, means that my truck isn't gonna fall through the ice and

    Ice Fisherman:

    We all wish and wait for us to be able to drive out there.

    Ice Fisherperson 2:

    Don't park near the shore, just don't park near the shore <laugh>.


    But it also means that I didn't get to go out on the ice at all. Honestly. It's a wild ride and it's a hard ride. We've clicked with parts of our tribe and when I meet someone that gets it, gets what no system is about. It feels like a really great, big, giant electrical buzz. But the thousand true fans that Kevin Kelly talks about, I think we're still 995 away from it. I think that's in part due to my hesitations to own who I am. It's put the brakes on our growth. I look up to the likes of Bob Dylan and Frida Kahlo and David Bowie. They flip norms and expectations on their heads.

    I , I will never completely understand the ability to just run into the storm. I'm sure they were afraid, but the secret is that as much as I crave to channel the boldness that they all had, the shadow of being too bold and the fear of its impact on me and my family hangs over my head, is pushing the envelope too hard to gamble? Is it too big? I'm always in a balancing act, a tug of war between daring and caution, between blazing new trails and the fear that's always somewhere in the back of my head of only ever being a Willie Lohman. He's the character from Norman Mailer's Play Death of a Salesman. If you haven't seen the PBS adaptation with Dustin Hoffman, it's worth seeing

    Speaker 9:

    I and right I'm die, but than I'm Willie Loman . Willie Loman never earned a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He's not the finest character that ever lived.


    It's a fine line. Actually, you know what? It's not even a fine line. It's a giant chasm, and I'm still learning how to evil canvel my way back and forth. But every time you bury your soul and your work, it's like rolling the dice. People gonna get it. Are they gonna vibe with it or are we just gonna get blank stares? Or even worse, the backlash isn't that the essence of impactful art? Impactful art stirs the pot. It evokes. It provokes. I'll never have the sheer audacity of an edge, Lord , but some days I wish I had some of their chutzpah.

    I won't sugarcoat it. It's daunting. You're serving a slice of your soul on a platter and you're not sure if it's gonna be savored or it's gonna be spat out, but I've also kind of come to see those butterflies as a good omen. If I'm feeling jittery about something I'm about to unleash, there's a good chance. It's because it matters. It's my gut nudging me, Hey, this could be big for what it's worth, and I hope that means that it's something I've got butterflies in my stomach while I'm writing this.

    The Voice of God:

    The price of authentic expression,


    Each time you take a risk, however small and you come out unscathed, it feels a little less daunting the next time. It's like flexing a muscle. The more you exercise the beefier that muscle gets, you start small, you survive and then you think, okay, well maybe I can crank it up a little bit more the next time. Recently at work, we had a video essay on the emergent order channel called America's Barbarian Children. It was John talking about how he feels and the collegiate response to the recent tragedy in Israel that parents have a responsibility to their children to raise them not to celebrate violence or condemn the injured as suppressors who got what they deserved.

    The comment section on the video, both on the emergent order channel, and later when we re-released it on our dad says , America Channel has really heartened me. I didn't know what would happen, but people have engaged with it and overall had a primarily positive discussion, even if they disagreed, and that's the kind of exercise that I'm talking about. I'm not saying that everything needs to be a polemic, but we also shouldn't shy away from larger discussions. And the more we put out into the world, the more we bring ourselves to what we put out into the world, the more opportunities we have to exercise and practice. And aside from the downsides, there really is an upside.

    The risky stuff is the stuff that connects. It's the stuff with a better chance of hitting home like striking gold. It goes beyond just avoiding a flop. It's about igniting a spark, a thought, a feeling, a shift./ Your work starts to resonate on a deeper level. Putting your cards out on the table might expose you to criticism and even rejection, but it's also the pathway to the good stuff like real connections and moments of shared understanding. Our goal really should be for our art to make someone pause, reflect, or, or feel something profound, and that's when I know that I'm onto something special.

    The first time that someone reacted to my not greater than less than symbol was one of those moments. That one was about me having the guts to declare, this is me. Take it or leave it. A side note, we also don't have to be an as we're laying it out on the table. I mentioned that flexing this muscle can be scary. So let's use a dangerous analogy that's a little scary, like tightrope walking. There's a documentary called Man on Wire. It was later remade into the Robert Zemeckis . Joseph Gordon Levitt filmed the walk about a French highwire artist who walked a highwire between the World Trade Center buildings.

    It's the first step. That's the worst, right? Okay, the last step is realistically the worst, but let's remain optimistic. The safest place is on either side of the wire. I actually think there are points to make on both sides of the wire, but the one we're interested in right this instant is the one before we walk out. Philippe Petit, the 25 year old performer is standing at the edge of the World Trade Center, 1,300 feet in the sky.

    Close your eyes and imagine yourself looking down. You with me? Did your stomach just drop? Do I need to bring in some wind sounds? Oh , there they are . To help us out. Don't say I haven't ever done anything for you. Okay, now close your eyes. Woo . Okay, yeah, no, that's uh , I might have some, just a little bit of a fear of a hype. So what are we doing? We are gonna double check that our shoes are tight. We've double checked the wire. Go through the list in your head. You grab the pole and you take the first step. You don't immediately die. So you take another step and each step you take out onto the wire from that point reinforces the action you took before our wind noises start to go away.

    As we start to think about the wire underneath us and how it feels under our feet, we can visualize all the other times we've done this successfully and understand that even though we're much higher, the skills aren't inherently different. But for us, instead of falling, we risk losing a friend ruffling feathers or maybe starting a fire. But isn't that the crux of being an artist? It's about leaping out of the box and making a splash and crafting something that can't be forgotten. But here's the twist. It really isn't all about the adrenaline of defiance or being offbeat just for the heck of it . Thinking about Petit and his high wire walking, it's about finding your unique rhythm, your voice amongst the den.

    For Petit, the familiar was his highwire walking. There was nothing particularly unique about it. Well, unique for us because we're not highwire walkers. But for him, that's what he did . The shockingly new aspect to this was that he turned it into a heist and he broke into the buildings and he strung a high wire higher than anyone had before. Think about it like spicing up your go-to comfort dish with a whole bunch of sriracha. It's familiar, but the kick makes it into a memory. But I mentioned that I think that there's things that we could learn from both sides of the high wire . The journey is also a path to self-discovery.

    As we walk out onto the tightrope, we start to unravel what matters to us and what message we want to convey. It's Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey. The more you walk the line, the more sure footage you become, sure you're gonna wobble and maybe even fall off, and that's all part of the dance. But each time you find your footing, you emerge a little more vital and a little more audacious and a little more bold. But when you get to the other side and you're a changed person, you can never recover that side of who you were. You can't go back. There might be some loss there, but it also creates new growth opportunities.

    I've been excited to see a new music sampling company out in the world called Crow Hill . Christian Henson, the founder, went through a tightrope walk of his own last year. He, he would suggest probably not so artfully, wandered into the trans debate as a parent dealing with family struggles. He had good intentions, but he got caught up in the firestorm and was forced to leave. The previous company he'd founded watching a video last night, I saw him talking about the fact that he's recently discovered that he's ADHD, and he's a little bit older than I am, but really rings true.

    Before I was diagnosed, I had definitely done some stupid things and shot my mouth off in ways that , uh, not that I don't anymore, but am a little more aware of because I understand how my brain works a little better. When all this happened, his social media went dead. His YouTube channel went dead, and Christian went radio silent , then almost outta nowhere after months.

    Christian Henson:

    So the last six months been on gardening leaf thing is, I hate gardening.


    An announcement of this new company. He's still writing the new story and it's just gotten started and it's exciting, but he can't cross the highway or back to where he was before he walked off the ledge. So as we go out further into the interplay of art and ideology, we need to not shy away from the importance of the tightrope. Let's embrace it wholeheartedly. Let's create art that's not just observed or heard, but deeply felt art that doesn't just exist, art that pulsates with life. Remember, it's not only about making something, it's about sparking a reaction. So

    Christian Henson:

    I'm starting something new and it's built around people other than gardening. This is what


    Forging a memory, crafting an experience, yeah, it's daunting, it's unpredictable, but that's where the eventize , and if you never walk outta the tightrope, you'll never discover what it's actually like.

    The Voice of God:

    Intersectionality and artistic expression.


    Let's return to that intersectionality I mentioned at the beginning of the episode . It's traditionally a framework for understanding how aspects of a person's social and political identities combine to create different modes of discrimination and oppression. It emphasizes that multiple sources of oppression, disadvantaged people, their race, their class, their gender identity, their sexual orientation, their religion, and other identity markers. Intersectionality recognizes that the characteristics that identify us don't exist independently. Each informs the others, often creating a complex convergence of oppression.

    Ironically and weirdly, I kind of see it like the biggest loser, but not about losing weight. The more intersections you have, the more oppressed you are and the more value or importance of your message. I don't wanna make light of it because there really is oppression that exists and self-reflection and understanding the things that affect who we are can be valuable tools for development and growth. But there's an Alice in Wonderland aspect where everything up is down and it makes it hard for me to understand. Thinking about it from the personal development standpoint, though, there are some positives we could take away from thinking intersectionally. It helps us develop empathy in a deeper understanding of the experience of others, especially those who do face multiple forms of discrimination. It brings a richer, more nuanced perspective to social issues and personal experiences. It highlights the complexity and diversity of human life in creative fields.

    Intersectionality can enhance artistic expression by providing a framework for exploring and articulating complex experiences and identities. It promotes inclusivity and representation by acknowledging giving voice to diverse experiences and identity, and that really is a positive I, I don't want to completely get down on this, but while researching for the episode, I searched Thomas. So in intersectionality, I was curious because Sowell has spent a lot of his career trying to understand racial disparities. He uses an economic and sociological lens to do that study, but an essential tool in that tool set is something called epistemic humility.

    Epistemic humility is an intellectual virtue. It acknowledges that we have limitations to our knowledge and understanding. It's about admitting that we may not have all the answers, and that our perspectives are always subject to change by the introduction of new information. Epistemic humility forces me to admit that I might write a different episode of this podcast a year from now. What I understand and know will differ from what I understand and know now, the me that's then is not completely the me that's now, that's not a weakness. It's actually a strength, particularly as an artist. It allows me to humble myself and confidently say that I am trying my best and also allows me to forgive myself for not writing this version of the episode at an earlier point in my life.

    For Sowell, it forces him to acknowledge that structural discrimination can contribute to disparities between groups, but also understand the differences alone. Don't conclusively prove that discrimination. He advocates, that we have to have a multi-angle expiration of inequality where discrimination is just one of the causes.

    It's a sign, hopefully, of maturity and a deep understanding of the fact that the world is inherently complex. So how do we take all of these things and apply it to our art? In art, intersectionality can be seen not just in the confluence of societal factors, but as a reflection on our complex personal identities. It's about recognizing the overlapping aspects of our lives, our ideologies, our experiences, our cultural backgrounds, and how they contribute to the way we express ourselves artistically. The approach encourages us to explore and articulate the diverse facets in our work. Our differences enrich what we bring to the world.

    The Voice of God:

    The Venn diagram of creative self.


    Imagine your identity as a personal Venn diagram where different spheres, your beliefs, your heritage, your passions intersect. This intersectionality is where your unique artist voice lies. Scott Adams might call it skill stacking. For him, he was talking about the idea that if you're a public speaker and an accountant, that is a different stack than if you are just an accountant or just a public speaker. That intersectionality of skill stacking creates a new thing. You might not be the best accountant or the best public speaker, but you might be the best public speaking accountant, and we do a disservice to the people around us when we ignore some aspect of our Venn diagram.

    we create a slightly perverted view of the world that we're presenting because it's inauthentic to who we are. It's kind of like walking out onto that high wire , but instead, we've got extra wires on both sides running through a shoulder plate that we're wearing. We couldn't fall if we wanted to, and people don't know that we're not bringing our whole self to the work. It's movie magic, but it's inauthentic. But when we incorporate epistemic humility into that Venn diagram , our artistic practices acknowledge that our unique interpretations and perceptions influence our work, and we can recognize that our art reflects our filtered understanding of the world.

    Epistemic humility in art also means valuing multiple perspectives. It encourages us to engage with different viewpoints. Even those we disagree with, understanding that they too hold a piece of the complex puzzle of human experience. I don't love intersectionality. It bothers me that the only tool that it uses is oppression. The world is more complicated than that, but I can also see that there are positive things that I can take from it.

    Learning to be more open to other experiences over time can foster a more inclusive, artistic community where diverse voices feel safer to be themselves, and experiences are heard and appreciated for their unique contributions. Not that we need more analogies, but in farming they'd refer to a lack of diversity. As a monoculture, you can win big that way, but you can also deplete your soil because you've created an unnatural ecosystem.

    Our cultural soil is depleted in part because of the lack of mixed viewpoints. Anyway, both the philosophy of science and art. Epistemic humility reminds us that our observations and creations will be something we're constantly filtering through our own knowledge. Recognizing that helps us approach our work with curiosity and openness. This week, I want you to engage in a two-part reflection. First, think about how your art and your beliefs intersect. Have you felt the pressure to conform? Have you noticed external influences shaping your work? Second, start observing the gatekeeping around you. Pay attention to the elevated voices in those silenced both in the artistic community and the other communities that you're a part of.

    I really hope you'll share your observations and experiences with us as we prepare to dive deep into the impact of gatekeeping. Next episode, we're gonna be talking about gatekeeping in the arts. Well, we'll examine how creative expression is influenced and and sometimes constrained by prevailing ideologies and societal norms. More importantly, how we might all be able to better navigate around it. Your artistic journey is as unique as you are, your individual beliefs and experiences in Rich it. Thanks for sticking with me. To the end, I would love to hear what you think. You can find me at Nosysknows on all the various social platforms. In between podcast episodes. I put up other smaller monologues and thoughts on Instagram and YouTube. There's a lot to dig into. If you haven't subscribed yet, make sure you do, and if you're willing, leave a review. It's super helpful. You can also reach me by email at nosis@nosisknows.com , and remember to check out the store at nosysknows.com for the art that I'm trying to bring my whole self to. Till next time, remember,

    The Voice of God:

    This podcast is copyright 2023 Brian Beam Creative. Check out nosysknows.com for all of no system's clothing and accessories. We publish episodes biweekly, as well as other content on Instagram and YouTube. We hope that you'll look into all of it and see beneath the surface.

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