If you’re really an artist, you’d rather be working than playing.
You only feel good playing after you’ve done your work. And if you haven’t worked, you won’t want to play. So the only solution is to work. This requires discipline.
Friends unless they want to work with you, will become distractions to your goal. Most of them won’t understand that you are serious about being a great artist, and won’t understand why you’d prefer to “work” rather than go to a beach, or a park, or to hang out at all, unless it’s related to your work, their work, or you’ve just finished a long day of work, and you feel good about a rest, away from work.
The vast majority of artists fail simply because they procrastinate doing the work. Though daydreaming, researching, fantasizing and scheming are as much as part of the work, as putting pen to paper, or making that sales call. The execution of the task is the critical moment. So when your friends call for “play” and you say you are “working” they assume “work” is related to arduous, terrible chores, in exchange for time, and not the eternally uplifting joy of creating something out of nothing.
To them it’s a personal dismissal from someone who has failed to deliver a hit record, or even complete an album. And now they say they’re “working” on that great achievement that never arises, therefore they must be avoiding “real life” or the joys of “pleasure and escape.”
Great artists have no need for friends, or family, and this tortures them, and those around them. Because their art is their child, and they nurture it constantly. Those who succeed in creating great art come out as a “surprise hit” and are vindicated. And then the friends will say “We always knew! Now you can come and play!” But the artist, knowing the only reason they had a hit, was because of their work, and therefore, back to the eternal work they go.
So they say “She will die alone.” Yet she isn’t alone. She created children her whole life. In her paintings, her songs, her stories and she feels like a happy Mother, and never quite alone, or truly bored, even when “alone.”