Quiet Partnerships, Loud Ideas
I rarely feel like I’m creating alone. Maybe it’s because I’ve already formed quiet partnerships — with virtual aides powered by artificial intelligence, with my past self as I revisit old work, and with you, the viewer, the reader, the audience. But real collaboration is different. It’s creating side by side with another artist. And if I ever pursue that again, here are the aspects I’d want to think through.
Picking the right partners
This matters as much in art as in life. Do you look for a Jesse Pinkman to your Walter White — someone who complements your weaknesses? Or a Watson to your Sherlock — someone who supplements what you already do well? It doesn’t always have to be smooth. It could be a frictional pairing like Eleven and Mike from *Stranger Things*. What matters is chemistry — the kind that makes the group stronger than any one individual.
Developing a shared vocabulary
When you create alone, your ideas already speak your language. They come from your instincts, experiences, influences. When you work with others, that won’t always be the case. Words can be misunderstood. Intentions can get lost. Vision can drift. To collaborate well, you need a shared vocabulary — and that takes time to build.
Making compromises
A creative partnership is a negotiation. Each person walks in with their own version of the idea — their own BATNA, their best alternative if the collaboration doesn’t work out. Compromise isn’t surrender. It’s choosing to adapt your vision so the shared one can be stronger. You have to know when to bend and when to hold your ground.
Settling differences
Great collaborators don’t avoid disagreement — they know how to move through it. Keep an open mind. Listen before reacting. Attack the problem, not the person. Focus on the idea. Don’t make assumptions. Disagreements aren’t obstacles — they can be tools, if handled carefully.
If these pieces fall into place, collaboration can give every creator space to express themselves, align around a shared vision, amplify individual strengths, and produce work none of us could make alone. That, to me, feels worth striving for — even if I’m not there yet.