Friday, February 25, 2011

win, lose or draw a picture of a pony

i’m eight weeks into The Artist’s Way’s creativity-recovery workshop, and it never ceases to amaze me how fitting, timing-wise, each chapter seems to be during the week that i read it.

this week’s chapter is all about recovering a sense of strength, which is certainly something i’ve been working on for a while and something any artist needs. strength. confidence. belief in oneself.

though the chapter covers assorted points, three key concepts really resonated with me:

* the problem of focusing on product instead of process

* the benefit of always moving forward, even if it’s only one baby step at a time, and...

* the idea of gains “disguised” as loss.

all three sections felt as though they were written just for me.

so often (if not always), i get caught up in the end result of a project or undertaking or endeavour or idea, instead of actually working on it. instead of doing, i get lost in thinking.

i worry about what’ll happen when it’s done, if it’ll even get done at all. i stress about whether people will like it, whether *i* will like it, whether it’s a stupid idea, whether i should try something else... and on and on. looking back, i could have written dozens of screenplays in all the time i’ve wasted over the years wondering about the what ifs – what ifs that didn’t actually mean anything since all the what iffing actually thwarted any progress and left me inert in the first place.

as with life, the key, says julia cameron, is embarking on the journey – engaging in the process – and celebrating that.

celebrating the effort instead of the result.

just doing it, whatever “it” is – writing that screenplay, painting that canvas, playing that sonata, performing that soliloquy – and cheering for yourself (loudly, whole-heartedly) for having done it. this is something i very rarely, if ever do. as with many artists, i’m much more apt to hone in on all the flaws and mistakes of a finished product than to actually celebrate that i have a product that’s finished.

the second concept, moving forward, is nothing new or revolutionary. the advice wasn’t anything i hadn’t heard before, but the context was slightly different and skewed in a way that spoke to me. basically, it’s encouragement to keep doing whatever it is you love/want/need to do creatively a little at a time. one thing, however small, every day. each tiny pebble slowly, over time, building the mountain of your dreams or goals or plans. doodling on a notepad, writing a couplet, practicing your welsh accent, learning a new piece of music.

julia cameron cites a few examples of people who do this well, including a renowned actress who is always working – when she’s not on a paid job, she takes classes, offers her talents for play readings, teaches students, volunteers with acting-related outlets. she’s always got her toe in the water and, therefore, never loses her connection to her art.

i totally need to do that. more often, i mean. this blog ensures that i write something on most days, but i know there’s room for more focus on creative work. it’s not about sitting down and writing a whole screenplay or novel all at once, but maybe writing one page a day.

it was concept #3, though – losses that are actually gains – that was especially potent.

cameron says you absolutely must mourn your creative losses – the book that didn’t get published, the role you wanted but didn’t get, the script that didn’t sell – because failing to do so creates “scar tissue.” but, she notes, you should not mourn them to the degree that it actually paralyzes you.

acknowledge the loss, grieve it, but then find the kernel of good within it. figure out what you learned, what you gained, what new door might open as a result... what you actually gained by “losing.”

this was a huge one for me, especially given my past year or so.

after the screenplay reading in december 2009, and despite plans to keep that project moving forward, it completely fell apart in my hands within weeks. though there were other life things (like a difficult preceding year with barely any paid work) helping to slam me into the proverbial wall, the evaporation of this particular project certainly added to a significant creative, and emotional, collapse. i mourned the loss but also let it swallow me whole. i became so fixated on it that any gain was immediately rendered invisible, and i definitely did not congratulate myself for simply having made the effort. at all. i completely erased the importance of the process because all i could see was the product: failure.

for a while, as i shared here at the time, i didn’t want to write anything, didn’t feel like i had any talent, didn’t have any ideas, and was pretty sure none would be worth pursuing even if i had them. though that sort of derailing had happened to me before on occasion, it had never been quite to that extent... perhaps because i’d never gone that far before, so losing it became much more pronounced.

it took me a while, but i eventually stepped far enough away that i was able to pick out the gains from the rubble of that loss, and to feel good about what i did accomplish instead of being consumed by what went awry.

slowly, ideas began to sprout. and then i started writing things again – not necessarily great things, but things nonetheless. and, baby step by baby step, celebrating the process, finding the gains, life got better and brighter. now i’m paying more attention to caring for myself and my creativity than i have in a long time.

the key for me will be remembering the sage advice of The Artist’s Way and continuing to follow it as i proceed. old habits really do die hard, and i’ve not yet fully paved over the well-worn paths i created over the years.

but i’m hoping that, as the workshop goes on and reminders keep coming and my work moves forward alongside my creative aspirations, i will continue to get my groove back.

4 comments:

cod said...

I'm inspired by what you have gotten from this book. Thanks for sharing and I hear excitement in you again.

((((Vic))))

vickie said...

thanks, moob.

i think it's a combination of relief and optimism you hear. :-)

and, seriously, reading that book was one of the best suggestions i've ever received.

Lou said...

You have an open heart.

(((((((*vickie*)))))))

vickie said...

:-)

thanks, {{{{{{{{{{{*lou*}}}}}}}}}}}}.