How do artists cope with self-doubt? I found one honest answer in Bir, a village in the north of India wrapped in the foothills of the Himalayas. The language of art is universal, and so is the language of longing. Art wants nothing. Like love, art is free, and it doesn’t try to convert, convince or lecture anyone. Art invites, art recharges, art loves.
I had interviewed my artist friend Anshuman for two hours at his home, asking him raw and vulnerable questions about creativity, love and art. On the way to his concert, he returns the favour. “What’s your comfort zone?” I think for a long time. Chaos, the chaos of creativity. The freedom of travelling. Berlin? In the end, the honest answer is that my comfort zone is being alone.
His, it turns out, is freedom too, and it is also the thing that distracts him most.
From reluctant engineer to singer
Anshuman is 26 and grew up in a small village in Himachal. His first song had more than a million views, and until that day he did not know such a thing was possible. For years he was on the path to becoming an engineer, a career he never wanted. He knew that singing was his hobby and he was afraid to tell his parents, so he fought his way through his degree in despair, torn between what he felt and what he thought he had to do.
Expectations in India are very strong, and they rarely come from cruelty, which is partly why they are so hard to push against. Even family support can start to feel like pressure when your own wishes point somewhere else. One day he was ready to call his father and end it. In that very second his father called him, asked how he was and whether he needed anything. So he kept studying and put off his decision by a few years.
Why a sacrifice only counts if it hurts
I asked him how far he would go for his art, and whether he had already sacrificed something for it.
“My job.”
“Did you love it?”
“Nope.”
“Then it’s not a sacrifice. Sacrifice is if it hurts you.”
How do artists cope with self-doubt every day
When I asked what role love plays for him, he found it hard to answer. He can hardly talk about love, so he writes about it instead, much as many people find that writing helps them make sense of feelings they struggle to say out loud. Does he ever doubt it all? “Every day, brother. Every day.”
He doesn’t pose as bigger than he is. He calls himself a very normal person, openly admits his flaws and imperfections, and accepts them. He has found his voice, and on the night it happened he was so happy that he cried. Has he found himself? Not yet. The doubt did not vanish when a song went viral or when he finally chose music, and he no longer seems to treat it as a verdict on whether he should carry on.
Can I live love right now?
His answers left me with a question of my own. Can I live love right now? In Europe, in Germany, we are welded into individuality from the ground up, so I hardly dare to commit. I am almost afraid of getting involved with a woman, of giving up my freedom, of making compromises. I have been in relationships, and I have loved. But really being in love? I’m not sure.
The full conversation with Anshuman is on YouTube, Spotify and every other podcast platform.
