Reminder to Self Part 1: Create OR Analyze
One of the most valuable lessons that never seems to stick in my mind is the notion that one should separate working/creating from thinking/analyzing.
At first glance, this probably seems wildly counter-intuitive. Why would anyone want to separate two vital aspects of the creative process? Isn't it good to check how you're doing to catch missteps as early as possible?
While there is certainly merit in keeping on course, how one goes about doing it should be a meaningful response to the particular challenges of the course (and the desired result).
Let's look at an example:
You just got back from IKEA with a swanky new chair. It is probably fair to assume that your goal is an assembled version of that chair and that your course is the series of steps outlined in the instruction sheet which you may or may not have accidentally tossed in the bin. Here, your objective is clear; your steps are clear; the challenge is to follow the latter to get to the former. No creativity required.
In this situation, it makes sense to analyze your progress frequently so as not to reach the penultimate step only to realize you misaligned some parts and now need to disassemble to reassemble - no good. Situations like this are common in our day-to-day lives and are pretty adept at teaching us to assess our progress continually. It's a worthwhile lesson - but not one that can be applied universally.
Let's look at another example:
You want to make a piece of art. You've got some supplies and maybe a vague idea of what you'd like to create. One approach would be to 'get serious,' to lay out a set plan without getting your hands dirty and then execute it. If you make sure to avoid missteps, you are sure to end up with a perfectly realized version of something which I have no doubt will be perfect...ly pedestrian. I won't say your works 'sucks,' but I'm not going to bet against it either (sorry, not sorry: #standards ...also, full disclosure: I've done this; I've made crappy safe art; I'm not proud of it, but it's happened).
What's a better way to handle this particular situation? Miss Frizzle said it best:
How does that relate to the titular topic? Let's back up for just one second and say that the takeaways are particular to creative work - if you are assembling your IKEA chair into a functional piece of furniture, "taking chances and making mistakes" is probably a bad call(!).
If, on the other hand, you are, in fact, making art, Frizzle's advice is an invaluable bulwark against the paralyzing flood of analysis and self-critique, against that little voice who asks, "Is this good enough?" and scares the playful child right out of us. If you're questioning, you're adulting. Don't art and adult at the same time, by doing so, you're not only limiting your ability to play and create in general, but you're closing off the opportunity to make the magical mistakes that lead to laughs, lessons, and breakthroughs - a steep price to pay for 'safety.'
Having met my scorn, sass, and (magic) school bus quota in Part 1, in Part 2 I will take an earnest look at a better way to work creatively.
