Last week I invited you to find an artistic hero within your creative field. Select one work of theirs that you want to engage with over the next twelve months. I framed this aspiration as a conversation between artists, using the pen or the paint to communicate. I really wanted you to discover a work of art that you could emotionally connect with, in a truly passionate way. I hope you had fun finding it.

I want to take the notion of a conversation a little bit further this week. At its core, art is about communication. Finding an artistic model for your work this year sets up a dialogue between you and the artistic tradition that you are working within. It provides the means to anchor your thoughts in the past. Your creative output this year – whether brushstrokes on canvas or pen marks on paper – will respond in a meaningful way to that artistic model and propel your work into that stream of tradition. We will be exploring specific strategies in the coming months to develop this conversation.

But just as the artistic conversation looks backwards, we also have an opportunity to embrace the future. The creative endeavor is all about expressing an idea or sentiment. We need someone to hear what we are saying. This week’s project is to explore who would be your ideal audience. Imagine a person that you really want to connect with. Who do you want to read your novel when it is finished? Whose imagination is captured when they see your painting up on the easel in your studio?

This person can be real or imagined. Some artists have an intimate connection with a flesh-and-blood person who is already deeply invested in their work. Others may find that they need to rely upon their imagination and sketch out an ideal audience. Each path has its own advantages.

The author Elizabeth Gilbert chooses a single person from her own life to whom she is writing. For each project, she selects someone different. Gilbert relfected that she knows this person intimately and can fashion a project around their proclivities and idiosyncrasies. She has a firm goal in mind when she picks up the pen. How can she pique that one person’s interest? With this approach, Gilbert secures for herself a focusing device for her work.

Still other writers develop an ideal reader out of thin air. There is a benefit to constructing an imaginary reader. You are forced to strive for clarity in your work, for you want the subtleties of your project to be readily comprehensible. This reader may not know anything of the terrain that you are covering in your work. They may live in a foreign land and have no point of reference for the world your characters are inhabiting. The writer Ford Madox Ford conjured up an ideal listener for his novel “The Good Soldier.” In the book’s opening pages, the narrator reveals that he is just going to imagine someone with a sympathetic ear sitting in an easy chair by the fire, and the story will be told just as it comes to mind. The narrator struggles at times to remember the novel’s events as they happened. Details emerge in a wayward fashion as he assesses their veracity. Sometimes he wants to be revealing, to share with this unnamed listener everything he can. At other times, he clouds the truth, for he doesn’t want to become so vulnerable. By using an imaginary audience, the storyteller must create a more comprehensive narrative, one that provides just enough detail to be understood.

With either route chosen, make a game about investigating all the bright hues and shadows of this individual’s life. Make lists for yourself about who and what they are all about. Spend some time meditating on just what would really make them stop in their tracks and take in your work with excitement. Let the creative endeavor unfold as an exploration into delighting this person, real or imagined.