Last May I had the extraordinary pleasure of being invited down to Nassau to see the National Orchestra of the Bahamas perform my Peter VS the Wolf. What fun.
I had a free day the first day, so I indulged myself in a lifelong fantasy to go scuba diving in the Caribbean.
Bear in mind, I am a poor swimmer, as I have always been a little afraid of the water. (Diving off a board, forget it.) But for some reason I had this urge to try scuba diving.
Real scuba diving requires taking a lengthy course and getting your "C" (certification) card, but for day tripping adventurers, you can also just take a 2-hour introductory "resort course" in the morning, and in the afternoon that same day you can go scuba diving in the ocean. You don’t dive very deep, and a master diver is at your side at all times, so it’s a quick way to have the experience.
Well I took the course in the morning. Oddly enough, the hardest part was making myself inhale while under water– as it is so counter to every choking experience I have ever had.
Well I survived the training, and that afternoon I hopped on a rather large boat and off we went into the Caribbean. There were only two of us – but this the other person was an experienced diver, so I was the only beginner.
And here is where things got rather interesting.
Again, I am not much of a swimmer, not a diving board user either, but once I got all the gear on, I was casually informed that we were going to enter the water via the "Big Stride" entry– which for you neophytes out there, meant I had to essentially "walk the plank" and step off the side of this big boat, and fall 12 feet into the water below, with 80 pounds of equipment strapped to my back. And by the way, there were 1-2 foot high waves in the water.
WELL . . . like I said, I have always had this fear of the water, so I confess the whole "big stride entry" thing had me a little spooked, to say the least. But I had devoted an entire precious day of this trip to this 20 minute dive. And I knew that if I thought about it, I would freak out and panic and not go in the water, and spend the rest of my life regretting it. So, taking a cue from my Principles of Applied Stupidity, instead of pausing to think about it, I just put my hand over my mask and respirator and jumped. One third of a second later, SPLOOSH.
Once in the water, well, you tend to breathe unless something stops you, so lo and behold I was breathing under water. I didn’t have enough weight in my vest to sink, so I bobbed around for a while til the dive master put another lead weight in my vest . . . and down I went.
And for the next 20 minutes, I was flying through a new world. I saw a lot of real live tropical fish, face to face. And we dove on a wrecked ship too.
It was far from perfect– I couldn’t equalize pressure in my left ear, after a while my mask got partly fogged over, and I got a little water in my mask and didn’t have the confidence to blow the water out, but it wasn’t too bad. And all in all, I had an adventure I will never forget.
This story is a perfect illustration of what I would like to share in today’s "creativity training" post.
My overall purpose, in this blog and in my speaking/training appearances, is to take the elements of creative energy management that I learned in the world of professional performing, and make these techniques available to people in other fields. Since there is so much mythology about the artistic world, there is much that has to be untaught, but, well, here goes.
Many people confuse artistic "creativity" with artistic "media." For example, there is often an assumption that if someone is dancing or playing a violin, this means they are doing something "creative." While it is of course possible to be creative with a violin or dance steps, it is no more likely that someone will be creative with these media than they will with 2×4's or plumbing supplies.
Did you know that, before an orchestra plays a given piece of music, the section leader of each string section goes thru the part and marks in "bowings" to make sure that everyone’s bow is going in the exact same direction as everyone else’s bow all the way through the piece, without exceptions? This is not creativity, it is regimentation. And such severe conformity is common in the "arts" world.
Granted, creativity often comes thru first acquiring a certain degree of discipline. Mastering the fundamentals is key to achieving artistic freedom. But the tools themselves are exactly that– tools. In and of themselves there is precious little creativity in screw drivers, paintbrushes, or the exercises in a musical method book that’s been in print since 1911. The creativity, if it comes at all, comes along much later on.
Because we so easily allow creativity to be associated with the training process, certain mistakes tend to be made over and over again by first-timers who wish to "be creative." There are many people who have an economic interest in keeping you in eternal student mode, so to save you some time and effort, a few pitfalls to be avoided:
The biggest mistake that most people make when they want to "be creative" is that they do not go far enough, and instead merely imitate someone else. The most obvious examples are people who try to jump on an already successful bandwagon, such as people who write and submit scripts for television shows currently in production. Granted, there may be some creativity involved in creating a variation, but nowhere near what was involved in creating the original show. So it’s no surprise that the original creation is where the real money is. And since so many people try to do this, there is nothing really original or creative about it.
Creativity is all too often defined as a very good approximation, or a slight variation on, what has already been done. Conforming to a preexisting idea isn’t really creative at all, it’s the exact opposite, even though the process– of playing Beethoven’s 5th or typing a script– can look just like a creative person at work.
The next most common mistake of people who seek to do something creative is confusing the relationship with one’s intended audience/customers with one’s relationship with past authority figures, such as parents and teachers.
For example, some people think being creative is about getting approval from an audience, by doing what they think the audience wants. But what they are really doing is rather dishonestly seeking a kind of acceptance that they once felt (or maybe never got) from their parents.
Another form of faux creativity lies in re-creating the relationship one may have had with teachers in school. The idea is, you do exactly what the course book requires of you, and as you have been trained to expect, you get the reward of having higher status than your classmates. This manifests itself in writing formulaic scripts or singing Broadway songs exactly like they sound on the record. Imitating these recordings is fun, but it is not truly artistic, and it really is not creative.
Another big mistake is thinking that somewhere there is a wise man on a mountaintop who will teach you how to be unique. This person does not exist. If you are being truly creative, then you are doing something that has never been done before, ergo no one can tell you if you’re doing it right. True, in trying to do a new thing you may screw up royally in a very public way, but that is part of the learning process, and only those who can stand the thought of that happening get to be creative.
Another big mistake in trying to be creative is seeking universal approval. For some people, if they have a new idea, even if it’s good, if anyone, even the neighbor’s dog, isn’t excited by the idea, then they give up on it. There is no idea that is universally accepted. Trying avoid the pain of rejection is a fool’s errand. No matter what you do, creative or not, someone somewhere is going to hate it.
And finally, and this is so sad to see, is when someone has a truly original idea, but they are so nervous about how people will react to it that they edit it to death. It becomes so mangled and over-polished that the original idea is lost in a miasma of correctness. (See The Fountainhead )
The manifestations of fear are infinite, but I will stop there. Those are the most obvious errant paths.
In conclusion, there is no way around it– if you are going to be truly creative and original, at some point, somewhere, a very vulnerable part of your soul has to be put out in front of people who may use the occasion to hurt you. Coping with this danger is key to successful creativity.
Everywhere you look there is a constant conflict between old and new ideas. This happens in art, it happens in science, and it happens in politics. And there are far more people embracing the safety of old ideas. Everyone has an axe to grind, and this molds their perceptions and their definitions of "quality." Criticism of ideas may have little to do with their merit, and a lot to do with economic benefit of things staying where they are. And there is a huge industry of people who exploit the average person’s fear of exposing themselves to risk.
To a certain extent, yes, you do need lessons and you do need editing. But these refinement services can be purchased into infinity, as the people who sell them will never tell you that you don’t need them any more. These folks are economically motivated to find fault with your work, and of course fault can be found in anything. And if you don’t have a plan to overcome that influence, your life can become a mobius strip of endlessly getting ready to get ready.
Like my diving adventure, any attempt to venture into truly original work involves a certain amount of risk. There is fear that must be overcome. Some people think they can remove all the risk, and thereby remove all the fear. Forget it. Sure, take the class, read a book, and do some research . . . but at some point, accept the risk, ignore the fear, and JUMP.
©Justin Locke
Visit my website ( www.justinlocke.com) and my store on cafe press
