Make Good Art: A Manifesto for Resilience
Created at: August 27, 2025
Make good art. — Neil Gaiman
The Imperative and Its Origin
At its simplest, Gaiman compresses an ethos into three words. In his 2012 University of the Arts (Philadelphia) commencement address, he repeats the refrain—“When things get tough, this is what you should do: Make good art”—after a comic litany of disasters, from broken legs to “your cat exploded.” The mantra reframes crisis as creative fuel, inviting graduates to convert fear, grief, or confusion into making. Rather than a slogan, it acts as a compass: move your hands, make the thing, and let the doing steady you.
Redefining “Good” as Authenticity, Not Perfection
From there, “good” refuses to mean flawless. Gaiman insists the one thing you have that nobody else has is you—your voice, your story (UArts, 2012). Good, then, is honest, particular, and yours; it emerges through drafts, not miracles. As Anne Lamott notes in Bird by Bird (1994), “shitty first drafts” are the doorway to clarity. By privileging sincerity over polish at the outset, you give craft something true to refine.
Alchemizing Setbacks into Work
Moreover, adversity becomes raw material. Frida Kahlo’s The Broken Column (1944) shows how physical pain can be translated into form without self-pity, while Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art (2002) names the inner friction as “Resistance.” Gaiman’s refrain channels both insights: name the wound, confront the inertia, then transmute them into pages, pigments, or pixels. In doing so, setbacks stop being endpoints and become engines.
Craft, Deadlines, and the Freelancer’s Triangle
Next comes the unglamorous part: professionalism. Gaiman jokes that clients keep freelancers who are good, on time, and pleasant—pick two and you’ll probably keep working (UArts, 2012). The quip hides a discipline: finish, deliver, and collaborate. Deadlines create containers for excellence, much as poetic forms do for verse. When you ship regularly, quality compounds; iteration teaches faster than aspiration.
Finding Flow Through Playful Discipline
Consequently, sustained making opens the door to flow. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s Flow (1990) describes the absorbing state where challenge and skill meet; practice is what gets you there. Playfulness accelerates this, as Austin Kleon argues in Steal Like an Artist (2012): remixing influences with curiosity yields surprising originality. By oscillating between deliberate practice and exploratory play, you make work that feels alive—and thus, good.
Art’s Responsibility to Others
Finally, the point is not self-expression alone but connection. Toni Morrison’s Nobel Lecture (1993) contends that language can oppress or free; art chooses the latter when it gives others words, images, and courage. Gaiman ends similarly: break rules, make interesting mistakes, and leave the world more interesting for your being here (UArts, 2012). Making good art, then, is a civic act—private effort with public consequence.