The Price of Saying Yes

I experienced yet another teachable moment in my career this weekend—I walked away from an amazing opportunity to teach a painting workshop in Europe. For any artist, teaching overseas would be a dream come true. But when I asked about bringing my wife and children to the retreat, I was told they would not be allowed and that I was essentially “the product,” expected to be accessible to the students at all times during my stay. What does one do in this situation? For me, the decision was as clear as it has always been—my wife and children will always come first. And so, I declined the opportunity.

I’d like to say this was the first time I’ve faced something like this in my career, but I’d be lying. I’ve had gallery offers and inquiries that questioned both the subjects I choose to paint and my decision to prioritize family over career. The offers—and the potential income—looked incredible. Every dream I’d had back in art school could have been realized. Everything I thought I wanted would have been within my grasp. But in those moments, I couldn’t pretend to be someone I wasn’t.  

What good is success if you sacrifice your life for it out of desperation or ego? What would it mean to achieve everything professionally, yet have no one to share it with? How much of myself would I have to sell to reach what others define as “success”? Most of all, why would I sell out the family that supported me and got me to the level of success that I enjoy today?  

For me, the definition of success has to be the full picture: a strong marriage, wonderful and loving children, a safe home, a healthy daily life, unwavering faith—and then, success as an artist. I cherish the incredible things I’ve achieved in my profession, but if I pursued that goal above all else, I would be empty inside.

There are times when the fallout from your decisions makes you feel like you’ve failed—or that you are a failure—but you have to keep the 50,000-foot view in mind. What parts of myself would I have lost just to reach one milestone? Nothing would hurt more than losing the respect and love of my wife and children because I put them second. My choices may have limited some measures of success. I don’t paint what I’m told to paint. I don’t play the games the industry asks me to play so they can profit from me. But I can look in the mirror each day—and into the eyes of the people I love—knowing they value what I’ve done for them.

Despite turning away from these so-called “opportunities,” I’m doing well. That’s what a well-rounded life of success feels like. Never forget: there are billionaires who would give anything to feel a true connection with another person or to have a family to share their achievements with. I already have that, and because of it, I’m the richest man in the world.  Never fear blazing your own path, because the road you carve with integrity will always lead you exactly where you’re meant to be.