For our Creator Mag: Season.2 premiere, we broke down the importance of community and career in the creator economy. You can watch the entire video above, as well as read the edited script below.

Casey Neistat, the godfather of modern-day creators, has this to say about his work schedule:

“Starting at 10 p.m., when [my wife] Candice goes to bed, that’s usually…when I’m back at work.”

This is the message we’ve been told countless times: That in order to “win,” you need to outwork the competition day in and day out. In the words of Gary Vee — the face of #hustleculture — this equates to “squeezing every last bit of the juice out of the orange.”

So, if you’re not doing this, that makes you a loser.

Right?

Part I — Art’s Loneliness

At the end of Season 1, we introduced the concept of “world-building,” how creators are establishing unique ecosystems around their brands with an eye towards the long run.

This season, our focus is on how we as creators can establish the foundations necessary to building a sustainable business. Therefore, there’s no topic more important to kick things off than one near and dear to our heart: burnout.

As artists, entrepreneurs, and storytellers, it’s only natural to feel lonely as we pursue our ventures and enact our visions. In a literal sense, we spend most of our time editing away at our computers late into the night. On top of that, from a creative perspective, it can be incredibly isolating when we feel like our peers don’t understand what we’re trying to accomplish.

Plus, with the fast-paced nature of the Internet, trends come and go, and a new slew of content is uploaded every day. Question your direction, and you’re already behind. Fall behind, and your revenue might evaporate overnight. And without revenue, those external, inquiring voices start to seem a whole lot louder.

Have you ever experienced this? Most creators I talk to have.

There’s been concerted pushback from the community against these pitfalls of hustle culture. Even creators with massive followings like KSI have spoken openly about burnout, normalizing therapy as a form of treatment on Logan Paul’s podcast Impaulsive:

“If you don’t ever, like, feel good in yourself…how could you ever feel good to be with someone else?”

Still, when we’re at our lowest, trapped within our minds, it’s really difficult to break out of the cycle and grasp what exactly we’re building towards...particularly when we can’t really see it. In the grand scheme of things, most creator businesses are quite nascent; after all, if YouTube were a person, it’d barely be legal to drive.

What we can look towards, however, is the gruff, old-fashioned uncle of the entertainment industry: Hollywood. And when it comes to creatives who’ve succeeded for decades without sacrificing their unique voice, no one stands out more than Ethan and Joel Coen, the dynamic duo often referred to as “The Coen Brothers.”

Part II — The Anti-Blockbuster

Nowadays, when it comes to distributing our content, it’s less a question of what platform to use and more a question of how many. Between social media, streaming, and now the blockchain, the permutations for packaging seem endless.

Yet in 1984, the options were pretty limited: you either tried to sell a television pilot, or you made movies for the silver screen.

The Coen Bros opted for the latter when they wrote and directed their first theatrical film together, Blood Simple. The movie is packed with dark humor and homages to the noir genre, and it went on to receive critical acclaim, even if it didn’t make much noise at the box office.

This became a common theme over the course of the next four decades. As the Coen Bros established themselves as marquee filmmakers within the American independent film industry, they stuck to their guns in transcending genres, from offbeat Westerns to black comedies.

If the Coen Bros released Blood Simple nowadays, would they have carved out the same successful indie career given our modern blockbuster-packed environment? It’s hard to say. Maybe they would’ve needed to upload original short films through YouTube first as a way to get discovered.

The Coen Bros directing Brad Pitt in 2008’s *Burn After Reading*

What we do know is that in 2013, the Coens were coming off their biggest commercial success, True Grit. So naturally, they decided to make a movie about...a sad, down-on-his-luck folk singer who ventures from New York to Chicago in the pursuit of his big break.

The project, Inside Llewyn Davis, served as a testament to the filmmakers’ ethos towards creating. Starring Oscar Isaac in the lead role, we’re served a hauntingly beautiful examination of the starving artist, as our main character Llewyn Davis traverses a myriad of trials and tribulations only to continuously come up empty.

And with one pivotal moment, the movie serves us its central message, a sobering reality check that universally hits home for anyone pursuing a career in creative work.

Part III — Too Sincere to Compromise

Inside Llewyn Davis opens with its titular character performing at the Gaslight, which would go on to become one of folk music’s most famous venues. Set in 1961 New York, the genre has yet to reach the mainstream levels of popularity that artists like Bob Dylan would later usher in — but we’ll get to that later.

For now, we meet Llewyn face-down in an alley after finishing his song, a mysterious stranger dropping the artist with a couple of unprompted punches.

The movie then cuts to Llewyn waking up on the couch in someone else’s apartment. It quickly becomes apparent that this is a frequent occurrence for the singer, as we see him bounce between staying with an ex and a wealthy older couple who love his voice.

On the surface, things clearly aren’t going well for Llewyn. As the harsh winter sits in, copies of his debut album sit unsold in a box, and he doesn’t even own a coat.

But there’s more to it. Folk music as a whole is passing Llewyn by, yet he remains committed to his act and unwelcome to change. He hates what he perceives as “selling out,” though when push comes to shove, he backs up his friend Jim — played by Justin Timberlake — on a light-hearted song that goes on to become a hit.

Ironically enough, Llewyn opts to forgo royalties on the song and instead cashes a quick check for a fraction of the eventual profit. Therefore, he even fails at “selling out.”

Llewyn Davis, played by Oscar Isaac, walking around the snowy streets of Chicago

The emotional crux of the movie comes when the artist pursues a meeting with a heavyweight in the Chicago music scene, Bud Grossman. As Llewyn joins a pair of traveling musicians on the icy interstate, he reveals that he used to perform with a partner, Mike, until the latter committed suicide.

Upon finally reaching Bud, the businessman asks Llewyn to showcase his talent on the spot. Llewyn’s entire journey has been building up to this moment, and after delivering a heartfelt performance, the camera lingers for what feels like an eternity before Bud delivers the movie’s fateful words.

“I don’t see a lot of money here.”

Despite doing everything we’re told is necessary to “make it” as a creative — such as “risking everything” and “taking your shot” — Llewyn still fails. Bud devastatingly tells him that he should consider finding a musical partner, then proceeds to offer him a role in a trio. At this point, however, the artist is in too deep, too sincere to compromise, and he turns down the job.

Llewyn slinks back to New York with his tail between his legs, telling his ex, Jean (played by Carey Mulligan), that he’s “so fucking tired”:

I thought I just needed a night’s sleep, but it’s more than that.

We see him get stuck in the same cycle from the beginning of the movie — literally. As it turns out, we watch the opening scene in the alley unfold again, only this time with more context: Llewyn had drunkenly berated a performer the night before, and her husband decided to give Llewyn what he deserved.

The movie ends the same way it began, leaving us with a burning question. How can we break that cycle in our lives?

Part IV — Creative Sustainability

There’s a famous quote by Mother Teresa regarding wealth, career, and happiness:

The most terrible poverty is loneliness.

When you watch Inside Llewyn Davis, there’s no doubt about it – Llewyn is unlucky. This is accentuated when who else but a young Bob Dylan, the soon-to-be 1960s icon, sets up to perform at the Gaslight as our main character meanders out to his date with the sidewalk.

Nevertheless, the chip Llewyn holds on his shoulder after Mike’s passing only creates more pain. For example, when talking with Jean about their respective music careers, Llewyn accuses her of using art as nothing more than a vessel to move out to the suburbs and raise a family, going so far as to label it as “sad.”

Jean doesn’t take lightly to that label, responding with vigor:

“You know, you don’t want to go anywhere, and that’s why all the same shit is gonna keep happening to you.”

It almost feels like the world is conspiring to keep Llewyn exactly where he is…almost. But this moment highlights something really important.

As creators, when we’re at our lowest and it feels like we’re not getting anywhere, we need to remember that the world doesn’t owe us anything. No one else does, either. We’re the ones who chose to go down this winding road.

A tweet picturing a meetup I attended in NYC (I’m at 10 o’clock)

So, here’s my thesis: If you want to start building the foundation for a sustainable creator business, the best thing you can do is love what you do and do it with people you love. Between our fans, friends, and family, you never know who will turn into your favorite collaborator or your biggest supporter down the line. Besides, fostering strong relationships by treating people with respect and gratitude should always be our top priority in life and career – at the end of the day, it’s what makes us human!

As conversations around “algorithm hacks” run rampant and businesses claiming they “help creators do what they love” pop up left and right, there’s no true secret sauce in order to do this thing full-time. However, I do think that community-based models like Creator Now, a YouTuber film school that recently announced a $3 million raise, are the closest thing there is. Their six-week cohorts boast hundreds of participants who roast each others’ videos, collaborate on projects, and cheer each other on. There’s no guarantee that every aspiring creator that goes through the program will make it big, but as the saying goes, a rising tide lifts all boats.

To conclude, when juxtaposing the Coen Brothers’ journey through Hollywood with a fictional character of their own creation in Llewyn Davis, we see that authenticity is a superpower until it turns into a crutch. It took decades of original movies for the filmmakers to establish their credibility, yet they still needed the humility to wait and make Inside Llewyn Davis only after directing the biggest commercial success of their careers.

And even when they finally got this passion project off the ground, a project that received universal acclaim from critics, it bombed at the box office. After all, stories about sad losers don’t exactly fill seats. And to associate with a loser – one who’s tired of hustling, burnt out from the countless clichés we tell ourselves about what it means to be successful – must make you a loser, too.

Right?

Outro

Hey! This is Nate from Powder Blue. Thanks for watching our Season.2 premiere, “Art, Loneliness, and Llewyn Davis.”

We’ll be exploring topics like this over the next five weeks, as we focus on how creators are building sustainable worlds around their unique brands. We’ll wrap up on April 10 with the launch of our second edition of Creator Mag, with new cover stories and products under the theme of “Welcome to World-Building.”

To never miss a drop from our team, sign up for free notifications at the link in the description. And feel free to go back and check out Season.1! All of our original stories and essays are still up on our website at powderblue.media/mag – that link is also in the description.

Finally, I just wanted to say – there’s a reason why Inside Llewyn Davis is one of my favorite movies. I’ve been creating for a good chunk of the past decade, so Llewyn is an extremely relatable character, as I have first-hand experience in knowing just how lonely this road can be.

I’m currently in the early stages of building out the Creator Mag community in an effort to promote conversation and collaboration among like-minded creator economy folks. However, on an individual basis, if you ever need someone to lend an ear or even just hype you up, feel free to reach out! Shoot me a DM or email and I’ll get back to you when I can.

Alright, that’s it for this essay. Until next week for Essay 2.2: Nardwuar, Master of Interviews.

Coverage from Creator Mag.2 continues on! Plus, follow along with our video essays by subscribing to our channel.

Essay 2.1: Art, Loneliness, and Llewyn Davis

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