Audacity

I meet so many creators and entrepreneurs that are doing amazing things while also constantly selling themselves short. So many of us are indoctrinated into this idea of being modest, fitting in, and not drawing attention to ourselves. I believe this mindset is in direct opposition to what it takes to thrive as an entrepreneur. 

I had a conversation with a friend and fellow artist and we talked about the traits and personalities of the rich and famous. The word she used to describe them really struck me: audacious.  

What feelings does the word audacity conjure for you? 

On one hand it can mean bold and daring while on the other it can mean arrogant and rude. The duality of this word is fascinating and sums up the struggle we go through by being audacious. Being vocal or taking up space can be perceived as selfish and insensitive, but it’s also necessary in order to stand out in a crowd or stand up for yourself. 

I’m currently traveling through Asia, spending the past week in Tokyo and Osaka. I’m struck by the strength of the social structure in Japan. Everything operates with remarkable order and consideration, from the way people move through public spaces to the punctuality of trains shuttling millions of people on their work commutes. People are very quiet and considerate, and there are rules and instructions everywhere. The culture is shaped by generations of shared values around respect, harmony, and stability. 

I am also drawn to the native people who choose to live outside these norms. I see individuals fully committed to alternative fashion and lifestyles, not as weekend outfits but as daily expressions of identity. I admire when people can toe the line of living in a world with defined expectations while also being bold and audacious. 

I’m now in Seoul, the birthplace of my ancestors and a culture to which I’m deeply connected but also unfamiliar. The tension between conformity and self-expression is something I struggle with a lot. In most Korean American families, success is measured through achievement and financial stability, often rooted in traditional paths like medicine, law, or business. 

I followed this cliché path for many years and never found the success and fulfillment I was looking for. As an inherently creative person I had very little joy in the work I was doing. The path felt predictable and laid out for me and the blueprint of success was to make more money and buy more things. It took audacity for me to reject this path and pursue the unknown and unpredictable. 

When the outcomes are uncertain, and the work is hard to define, it takes a different kind of strength to keep going. It requires the belief that your perspective, your story, and your expression deserve space in the world even if they do not yet have a clear audience.

One of the most powerful examples for me is Nam June Paik, a Korean artist who is widely considered the founder of video art. His work challenged almost every convention of what art could be, and he did it using tools that most people at the time considered commercial or disposable. He stacked television sets, distorted broadcast signals, and treated technology as both a canvas and a commentary. He was humorous, provocative, and often difficult to categorize, which made his work hard to sell or institutionalize. Despite that, he remained committed to his vision, creating work that has only grown more relevant with time. His approach reminds me that real innovation often looks strange before it looks brilliant.

For those of us raised in communities where self-restraint and approval from others were central, the choice to pursue creative joy can feel uncomfortable or even indulgent. Yet that discomfort is often the space where real growth begins.

Karen Walrond captures this idea beautifully: “Joy is an act of resistance… to live in joy is to declare that you are worthy of beautiful things. That takes audacity.”

Audacity, in its clearest form, is not about dominance or control. It is the decision to follow your creative rhythm even when it leads you away from the familiar. It is a refusal to flatten your vision for the sake of acceptance.

For all of you who are building careers and practices that are original, interdisciplinary, and self-defined, I believe audacity is essential. It allows you to hold onto your ideas when they are still fragile, to protect them from premature judgment, and to offer them to the world with clarity rather than apology.

What idea are you currently holding back, not because it is unworthy, but because it feels too bold for the moment you are in? Sometimes the next step is not to refine the idea further but simply to give yourself permission to begin.