Unaware of the German way to tackle this problem, your approach would probably be to start working really hard to actually become the artist you claim to be. You know, put some old-fashioned effort into something, become an expert, then dedicate your life to it, try to reach beyond what others have reached for, fail at it, and fail at it over and over again, driving you into a severe alcoholism, then a drug habit that almost kills you, then outright madness that makes you obey the voices in your head telling you to cut off an ear, wrap it into tissue to give it to a prostitute, and finally taking you to the edge of suicide, because the very matter you dedicated your life to, has betrayed you, until finally, one day, in a time of greatest possible desperation, something else, something that has been hidden deep inside you, takes over, and suddenly every step you need to take is clearly laid out in front of your inner eye, and you walk the walk, ascending to a higher level of knowledge, forever shedding your limited comprehension of the world, leaving behind your entanglement in pretentious and shallow counter-culture kitsch, engrossing you with nothing but amused alienation from the activities and values that once mattered, because finally, life has turned you into a true artist.

Or, if that sounds too hard, attend a Tatort party.

Ich werde ein Berliner — 27. Tatort