Art & Creativity

How to Live Inside an Underwater Air-Bubble

TODAY after many weeks, I have the courage, time, and peace of mind—all at the same time—to sit down and write this first line. Now my breakfast is here and I will hopefully resume after that.

That rare day happened two years ago. I had just enough time to write those two sentences. But I did resume after breakfast. What came after is as follows.

I AM BACK. I finished breakfast and managed to come back to write instead of indulging in myriad other distractions - reading a book, smoking a cigarette, watching YouTube Poker videos. Any one of them would have either made me feel better or numbed my mind enough to not care.

To resist the temptation of easy consumption and to write instead is a great feeling. The simple act of writing is filling me with a sensation I experience in a few rare moments*. It is a sublime feeling. I’ll try translating it into words for you. 

Imagine yourself inside an air-bubble underwater.

Your breathing is different. It’s neither relaxed nor labored. There is a slight tension like the one you get while listening to jazz. Always on edge, nothing taken for granted.

You can see through the bubble but the view is a little hazy. Like a Monet waterscape.

There is no smell. Nothing touches your skin, you float freely.

You hear something, it’s muffled, it’s there in the background. You feel the sounds much more than hearing them.

The waves ripple, the water moves in harmony with the sounds. Your bubble flows, bobs up and down and sideways. It is twirled around by friendly dolphins.

Sunlight gives it a soft glow.

Inside the bubble, you can do anything that you like. It is your bubble after all. Paint, run, sing, dream, make faces - it will serve all your needs.

People looking in from outside cannot enter. Only other bubble-beings can communicate with you - across time and space. Join your bubble with them if you want, bubble-beings are welcoming as you would have realised by now. But your bubble remains your own. What you do inside it is completely your prerogative.

The bubble breaks. It is a delicate thing. A persistent phone call, an invitation for a drink, a wayward shout - all possible causes of breaking it.

Do not despair. You want to be inside again. But the distractions tempted you - it’s alright. A short life is a bubble’s nature.

The great thing about them is that they keep on coming. If one dies, the other comes to take its place. All you need to do is extend a finger and it will let you in. You have to try. It’s not difficult. There is no huge door to open or latch to unlock or walls to break. Extend your hand and it will let you in.

If you feel afraid to take that leap of faith, remember to trust the bubble and its mechanism. If at first, you sense resistance, try again. That might work. If not, take a break and come back later after doing some non-bubbly things. After an hour, a day, or longer. Just remember to come back.

Remember how you first entered it.

The bubble is all-knowing. Trust the bubble. Gather courage and do it again.

*Deep Immersion Moments from How to Have More Fun at Fun.

Further Reading: If you enjoyed this, then you might also like something else I wrote earlier - Jack’s complete lack of orientation.

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How to Understand Art - A Mark Rothko Case Study

The idea of taking your Tinder date to an art gallery sounds good in theory. But going there, looking at the paintings and thinking to yourself, "I don’t get this" isn't fulfilling. 

Or you come across an article on the internet about some abstract painting selling for $20 million dollars and you go, "Wait, whaaaat?"

Or let's say you have developed an interest in the arts. Perhaps that Tinder date went well, and you want to make a grand gesture by gifting a painting. How do you decide which one is good to buy? After all, there is no manual which says that a painting in a certain style is superior than others.

You learn that 'good art' is subjective. Why then are some artists held in higher regard than the others? What is it about Picasso, Dali, Van Gogh and Da Vinci that makes them indisputable geniuses? If you are not an art connoisseur, how do you identify great art from bad? Or even before that, how do you understand what the artwork is about?

This post is my attempt to answer these questions by tackling the work of a painter I admire - Mark Rothko. Also covered are the topics ‘Why to understand Art at all’ and ‘The Business of Art.’

WHO IS MARK ROTHKO?

Rothko (1903-1970) was an American painter of Russian descent. The images below are some of his works:

This style (called 'multiforms' by critics)- large blurred fields of solid color devoid of any figures or symbols - was his signature work. His paintings often feature in the list of most expensive paintings. This one went for $188 million, this for $90.6 million and this for $84 million.

The small images here won't do justice to his work. But I've added them to give you a reference point for everything that follows.

WHY MARK ROTHKO

Falling in romantic love is instinctive rather than calculative. We fall in love with the whole human being and not just with the sum of their individual qualities. This is why we hear things like "I love him for what he is as a person," or "I love how she makes me feel." A piece of art is quite similar.

This is where our first lesson begins.

Mark Rothko in front of one his paintings

Mark Rothko in front of one his paintings

When I first looked at a Rothko, I was instantly captivated. I felt strong overwhelming emotions and a feeling of transcendence that I’ve experienced rarely. There was no rhyme or reason to my attraction towards it; there doesn't need to be any. Sometimes, a painting's job can just be to make a wall look better. Art's primary function is to be admired. It doesn't have to reveal a profound secret message to be worthy of appreciation.

So the simplest way to understand or judge a painting is to answer - Do you like it? And by 'like' I do not mean the technical qualities, but just enquiring whether it looks aesthetically attractive to you.

I chose Rothko because it appealed to me. The minimal language of his work goes well with my philosophy of life. But there is no need for you to feel the same way to understand it. Perhaps you even had a few questions like:

  • Why is it so famous?

  • What am I supposed to understand?

  • What's the meaning of this?

  • Isn't this very easy to make?

  • This was sold for $50 million dollars! Is this real life?

All these are valid questions which deserve an intelligent response. But that is for later. For now, all we need to do is simply answer the ‘Do you like it?’ question. Do you think it looks good? Keep the doubts for later and just observe without any notions about what it may or may not mean.

FORM AND CONTENT

Lesson number two. 

After the initial reaction, it is a good idea to look at the form, the painting itself: The canvas frame, color palette, the subject, shapes, brush strokes, layers. Imagine how it was done, how it could be done.

Rothko used large canvases

In the case of Rothko, you notice the simplicity and the deliberate lack of any symbolic reference. You notice the depth and intensity of colors, how there is a luminous quality to them. Or how the canvas seems much bigger than it is. You imagine that working on this painting would have been physically taxing for the artist. 

You notice the patterns in all his work. Big rectangular boxes filled with deep colors in a flat picture plane -  the boxes which appear to hover in and out of the picture plane.

Slowly the painting unravels a bit more. Numerous layers over layers of paint. The blue slightly visible behind the predominantly burgundy box. Or the green superimposed over the red. You notice these less evident colors at the edges or through the thin layers of the primary paint. This unravelling is like watching the artist’s process of creation in reverse chronological order.

You notice the name of the paintings and are surprised to see that most of them are titled 'Untitled' or 'No. X'  or 'Orange, Red and Blue'. You sense the artist's deliberate attempt to avoid shoving his ideas towards the observer. It is what it is.

You hear someone telling a story of how when a journalist asked Rothko to explain his paintings, he said, "Silence is so accurate." You sneer at this artsy-fartsy statement. But then you have a longer look at the painting. And you realise that what he said might make sense to some. The paintings really don't say anything specific. Silence could be accurate. Your head spins a bit. You move on.

Of course all this is more apparent when you can see it in person. Rothko himself recommended that viewers position themselves as little as eighteen inches away from the canvas to experience "a sense of intimacy, awe, a transcendence of the individual and a sense of the unknown." People recount of experience of being engulfed by the painting or becoming a part of it. The barrier between the art and the audience vanishes.

The lack of frames on his pictures is because of this reason. According to Rothko, framing a painting implies that there exists a different reality in the work. But he did not distinguish between the canvas and the world outside. The intention was to "eliminate all obstacles between the painter and the idea and between the idea and the observer." 

"I also hang the largest pictures so that they must be first encountered at close quarters, so that the first experience is to be within the picture. This may well give the key to the observer of the ideal relationship between himself and the rest of the pictures." - Rothko

Once you do this observation, you start associating certain qualities to the painting. A little more understanding is achieved merely by looking at it for longer than a few seconds.

Art often serves as a reflection of our times and the artist's personal exploration of her own identity around the zeitgeist. Thus, the next step in our understanding will come from the history and the context. For this, we have to go beyond the canvas.

BEYOND THE CANVAS - THE CONTEXT

Rothko's early work was much different from his later style. Some of his early work:

This was followed by a phase of transition to the multiforms:

This progression tells us a story of an artist who experimented with different styles before finding one which resonated with him. It teaches us one more thing - the debunking of the overnight genius myth. 

Rothko’s final style of multiform wasn't an overnight spur of the moment decision. It wasn't on a whim that he decided to paint something like this. It took him years to perfect a style with which he could express all that he wanted to. It was as if he was learning this new style by trial and error. A method to madness, if you will.

The notions often associated with artists of making something totally random or esoteric or pretentious are thus invalidated in case of Rothko. After all, we have to ask ourselves, what was that thing that drove an artist who was as skilful as he was, to find a style which looks so simple and continue doing it for the rest of his life. What was this conviction in purpose, and where did he find it from?

In Rothko, we had an artist who broke away from the status quo, created a new style which was radically different from everything else at the time, and had the conviction and self-belief to persevere even in the face of doubters and naysayers.

Rothko Chapel

Thus, when you are looking at a Rothko, you are also looking at the result of conviction in purpose, thousands of hours of experimentation, rejection, and perseverance. If you want to take anything from his work, that in itself is enough.

The originality of his style is also something to be cherished upon. Most of what we do, the words I write, the person we are - is influenced by something external -the people we meet, the books we read, the places we go to. So when we find true originality, it should be celebrated.

In the book 'The Artist's Way', the author says of writing which I think is true for most art - we are conduits for the art to flow through us onto the canvas/paper. An artist’s job thus becomes that of a passageway rather than that of a glorified creator. In a life filled with mundane activities, this makes it a way of accessing the divine. 

While drawing his pictures, or while imagining them, Rothko experienced this spiritual feeling. And this is what he wants to convey through his pictures. If we look at the pictures and search for a meaning in the shapes or the exact color used, we won't find it. This was abstract art, and abstract by definition means "existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or concrete existence." or "relating to or denoting art that does not attempt to represent external reality, but rather seeks to achieve its effect using shapes, colours, and textures."

If you are thinking that this is becoming tangential and bordering on the line of some spiritual bullshit, you are forgiven. It is fair to ask what is this 'spiritual feeling' that Rothko wanted to express. How do we understand it? This is where the next part comes, which to me is the most important bit of this whole post.

ART AND AUDIENCE

"The most interesting painting is one that expresses more of what one thinks than of what one sees." - Rothko

This section is about you. Not the collective pronoun 'you' who are all the readers. But 'You', the individual reading this post while taking a break from work, or on the Uber ride back to home, or while browsing your Facebook feed in the toilet. 

Art needs audience. And each individual in that audience gives that art a different meaning. Without an audience to ascribe meaning to it, the art would lose its purpose. A great book is nothing but ink on paper if it doesn't inspire or entertain or make someone laugh. 

Let me give you an example.

I am a big fan of Linkin Park and always will be. They might be passe now, but I will always have a fond memory of them. Music has been a great influence in my life. It has played a large role in shaping me the way I am. And Linkin Park was my gateway drug into music. They were probably the first band through which I was introduced to western music. I studied for hours in a dingy, smelly room while preparing for IIT entrance exam - their music kept me awake. I have sang aloud with friends while 'Numb' played in a rental car's shitty audio system while on a trip to Goa. I have played it on repeat on speakers in college until someone came and lent me a different CD or took their CD player away.

The point is that I have associated Linkin Park with my memories. And it is I who created those associations. And these links can be different for others. It might have been a way to deal with teenage angst for a kid growing up, or a guy who met his future wife at a LP concert might associate it with love. 

Great art isn't great just for what it is. It is great for what it does to you, the changes it brings about. It becomes part of the moments of your life. It shapes them. 

The meaning that we seek in life, the purpose and the singular reason for which we do the things we do everyday isn't to be found in a textbook, or on an inscription in a cave wall, or in the careless depths of LSD infused trance. Or even in a Mark Rothko painting. It is to be found within us, and in our understanding of the world around us. That meaning is what we choose to ascribe to things in our life. 

If we decide to accumulate as much money as possible, then that's our meaning of life. If we decide to uplift the poor to a better state of living, then that's our meaning. Great art, like Rothko for me, gives meaning to my existence and the things I do. Or put it another way, it is I who decides what that painting will do to me. It is empowering. 

It is I who decides to find meaning and understanding in this quote by Rothko - 

"Small pictures since the Renaissance are like novels; large pictures are like dramas in which one participates in a direct way."

It is I who chooses to say ‘true that’ to this quote by him - 

"If you are only moved by color relationships, you are missing the point. I am interested in expressing the big emotions - tragedy, ecstasy, doom, and so on. And the fact that a lot of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures shows that I can communicate those basic human emotions… The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationship, then you miss the point."

Or in this one -

"Shapes have no direct association with any particular visible experience, but in them, one recognizes the principle and passion of organisms."

WHY TO UNDERSTAND ART AT ALL

There are three reasons for me in the increasing order of complexity.

1. “I think you want to learn about art because you had an experience of some sort - a totally non-redemptive but vaguely exciting experience, like brushing up against a girl with big boobs in the subway."

- David Hickey, Art Critic/Journalist/Writer.

If you ignore the slightly sexist comment, you can see what this guy means here. It is just a way to make you a more rounded person. Learning about why an artist, Picasso for example, is called a genius, never hurt one anyone right? Call it curiosity to understand this facet of life.

2. "The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls."

- Pablo Picasso

For me, art is therapeutic. If I have a bad day, a day filled with art exploration usually recharges me. In fact, I have been struggling with work for the past one week. And today's act of writing this post has already made me feel much better.

Painting is slow art. You cannot look at it for 5 seconds and declare it good or bad. In a way it is very similar to poetry. (If you haven't picked Tagore's Gitanjali and wondered about the meaning of life after reading just a few lines, you are missing an experience). So in a world where the food is fast, news is breaking, and peace is ephemeral, art brings about a good change of pace. 

3. Art is a way to express the inexplicable. Presumably, we’ve all experienced moments of transcendence whether on drugs or meditation or during our travels or in near-death experiences. Art, from what I understand is a way to explain that, to express emotions that words cannot.

THE BUSINESS OF ART

Although it doesn't have a lot to do with understanding Art itself, I want to touch upon this issue briefly because this is something which turns people off away from the art world.

A few years ago, when I had absolutely no idea about what art is, I came cross Joan Miro's “Peinture (Etoile Bleue)” which was sold for 37 million dollars. I scoffed at the price since it was something I thought I could paint. It was natural to assume that the art world is delusional or pretentious or both. But during the course of the research for this post I understood something else.

The art market isn't a reflection of who the best painter is. The highest priced painting doesn't mean the best painting. Buying and selling art is a business. And the prices in a business are driven by many other factors than just the quality of the work. If you can't fathom why a certain painting was sold for multi million dollars, that's fine. But, don't let its price discourage you from appreciating it.

Oscar Wilde said it best:

“A work of art is useless as a flower is useless. A flower blossoms for its own joy. We gain a moment of joy by looking at it. That is all that is to be said about our relations to flowers. Of course man may sell the flower, and so make it useful to him, but this has nothing to do with the flower. It is not part of its essence. It is accidental. It is a misuse.”

Conclusion

Abstract art isn't supposed to make you feel a particular way. It is supposed to help you embrace whatever it is that it invokes. 

This 'something' could be different for different people. Great art incites conversations, discussions and conflicts of opinions. Rothko's work inspired me to write this post, so you could say I found inspiration and contemplation in his paintings. Perhaps you could find love, or reflection, or celebration.

If you look at any piece of work and wonder - "I could do that," you are missing the point. Good art is not judged by how difficult it is to make. Or the level of technical skill involved. Or the most skilful execution. And that is why it's subjective. This can be found in other art forms too. Hemingway didn't write the most complicated sentences, but he was a masterful storyteller.

Art may seem unapproachable at times. But if you give it a chance, it can turn out to be deeply personal and enriching.

Thank you for reading. I hope you ascribe positive association to this post in your life. And may that date at the art gallery become an important moment in your story.

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Searching for The Sublime in Mundane - Notes from The Book of Tea

"LET US DREAM OF EVANESCENCE, AND LINGER IN THE BEAUTIFUL FOOLISHNESS OF THINGS."

One of the most important books that I read last year was The Book of Tea by Kakuzo Okakuro. It talks about much more than just the art of making tea - aesthetics, simplicity and the transcendence found in the seemingly simple rituals of a craft (in this case, tea-making). It is a manual on living a deliberate life, in the depths where the sublime reveals itself to us.

The wisdom in these pages dwarfs the other important aspect of this book - the efficiency of words. At only 160 pages, this short read punches well above its weight. There are no wasted sentences, no time expended in citing shallow stories. It is a study in depth, and living immersed in your craft. I also featured this in my Best books I read in 2016 list.

Here are my notes and highlights from it. Lines from the book are in italics.

 

On the greatness of little things:

Those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others.

This here seems like the crux of Teaism. Most of our life is spent in doing the mundane- sleeping, eating, cooking, washing clothes, etc. The moments of extreme pleasure - sex, travel, sports, dancing - form a minority of our time every day. So, in order to maximise the happiness from our lives, it makes sense to enjoy the mundane as much as we cherish the bursts of extreme pleasure.

The mundane holds equal importance with the spiritual. In the great relation of things, there was no distinction of small and great, an atom possessing equal possibilities with the universe. 

The whole ideal of Teaism is a result of this Zen conception of greatness in the smallest incidents of life.

 

On What makes gooD tea:

The best quality of the leaves must have "creases like the leathern boot of Tartar horsemen, curl like the dewlap of a mighty bullock, unfold like a mist rising out of a ravine, gleam like a lake touched by a zephyr, and be wet and soft like fine earth newly swept by rain."

By using such vivid images to describe good leaves, the author has attached a romance to a seemingly simple morning ritual of making tea. This is a constant theme in the book. In fact, I wrote about this in my post A Romantic's Guide to Finding Focus.

Lotung, a Tang poet, wrote: "The first cup moistens my lips and throat, the second cup breaks my loneliness, the third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some five thousand volumes of odd ideographs. The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration,--all the wrong of life passes away through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified; the sixth cup calls me to the realms of the immortals. The seventh cup--ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves. Where is Horaisan? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither."

Wangyucheng eulogised tea as "flooding his soul like a direct appeal, that its delicate bitterness reminded him of the aftertaste of a good counsel."

If we replace drinking tea with any of our daily tasks, say cleaning, and imagine it being described by a great writer, it will transform from a mere chore to a event to experience in all its glory. While we are at cleaning, let's see what the book says about it.

 

On What Cleanliness Means:

One of the first requisites of a tea-master is the knowledge of how to sweep, clean, and wash, for there is an art in cleaning and dusting. A piece of antique metal work must not be attacked with the unscrupulous zeal of the Dutch housewife. Dripping water from a flower vase need not be wiped away, for it may be suggestive of dew and coolness. 

I have no idea why the reference of the Dutch housewife is here. But what attracted my interest was the the attention to small details.

The next quote is about the garden path. It is one of the parts that makes a Tea House.

There is a story of Rikiu which well illustrates the ideas of cleanliness entertained by the tea-masters. Rikiu was watching his son Shoan as he swept and watered the garden path. "Not clean enough," said Rikiu, when Shoan had finished his task, and bade him try again. After a weary hour the son turned to Rikiu: "Father, there is nothing more to be done. The steps have been washed for the third time, the stone lanterns and the trees are well sprinkled with water, moss and lichens are shining with a fresh verdure; not a twig, not a leaf have I left on the ground." "Young fool," chided the tea-master, "that is not the way a garden path should be swept." Saying this, Rikiu stepped into the garden, shook a tree and scattered over the garden gold and crimson leaves, scraps of the brocade of autumn! What Rikiu demanded was not cleanliness alone, but the beautiful and the natural also.

 

ON GREAT ART:

The book explains what great art means by explaining  the metaphor of Vacuum. It claims that only in vacuum lay the truly essential. For example, the reality of a room was in the vacant space enclosed by the roof and the walls, not in the roof and walls themselves. Likewise, the usefulness of a water pitcher was the emptiness that it contained, and not in the shape or material of the pitcher. 

In art the importance of the same principle is illustrated by the value of suggestion. In leaving something unsaid the beholder is given a chance to complete the idea and thus a great masterpiece irresistibly rivets your attention until you seem to become actually a part of it. A vacuum is there for you to enter and fill up the full measure of your aesthetic emotion.

There is a wonderful story about a harp made from exquisite wood. All the harpists in Japan tried to play their songs on it but no one succeeded. It would not produce good music as everyone had hoped. Finally, the hero of the story Peiwoh, a celebrated harpist comes along and plays songs of the trees, the forests, the river - basically everything that the harp might have seen when it was a tree. 

"Sire," he replied, "others have failed because they sang but of themselves. I left the harp to choose its theme, and knew not truly whether the harp had been Peiwoh or Peiwoh were the harp."

It connects with the concept of vacuum: 

One who could make of himself a vacuum into which others might freely enter would become master of all situations. The whole can always dominate the part.

In the olden times, the Samurais of Japan, much like most of Japan at that time held art in high regard. So, often if the samurais were given a job to do, they often sought art instead of money as a form payment for their efforts.

A single masterpiece can teach us more than any number of the mediocre products of a given period or school.

 

SOME APHORISMS:

We are wicked because we are frightfully self-conscious. We nurse a conscience because we are afraid to tell the truth to others; we take refuge in pride because we are afraid to tell the truth to ourselves. How can one be serious with the world when the world itself is so ridiculous!

Why do men and women like to advertise themselves so much? Is it not but an instinct derived from the days of slavery?

The Sung allegory of the Three Vinegar Tasters explains admirably the trend of the three doctrines. Sakyamuni, Confucius, and Laotse once stood before a jar of vinegar--the emblem of life--and each dipped in his finger to taste the brew. The matter-of-fact Confucius found it sour, the Buddha called it bitter, and Laotse pronounced it sweet.

Taoism accepts the mundane as it is. And unlike the Confucians or the Buddhists, tries to find beauty in our world of woe and worry.

The beauty of words in this book is baffling. I sincerely wish that you get a chance to read it. Teaism had taught many things to the Japanese at that time - about culture, art, and living a meaningful life, most of which is still relevant to us. I hope you find it useful. And if you've read it already, leave your thoughts in the comments below.

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The Catharsis of Creation

Write, paint, stitch, shoot, make something. It seems hard at first, but once you actually get started, it feels wonderfully relaxing. It relieves you of negativity, exhaustion and boredom.

Last night, I felt really tired and confused, as if in a daze. That was how I had been for most part of the day. There was no apparent reason for me to feel this way. But, emotions never arrive in tune with our concept of logic. To disengage myself from this feeling, I tried to find means to entertain myself. 

I picked up a book but reading seemed labored. Then, I put on the latest Apple Keynote, but it looked boring. Talking to someone didn't interest me nor did taking a walk. Something was amiss. 

It was still early to go to bed so I decided to sit down and finish up some of the pending tasks for my blog. Gradually, I found myself in the groove of creating and moving things. One and a half hours later, I found myself fresher and more attentive than I had been throughout the day. And, I was able to pen down a draft of the post you are reading right now.

Creation is cathartic. 

By creation, I don't mean that you have to do Big things. You don't have to create an epic novel or a magnificent painting, or the most ingenious movie ever. You don't have to do it all right away. 

Post-Its with small Haikus on my wall

Post-Its with small Haikus on my wall

When you are stuck, start small. Maybe, write a couple of lines on a post it and stick it on a wall.

Paint a bottle. Take a video as you cook something, edit it in an editor.

Or just spend time playing with creation tools online like Incredibox.

Little Buddha on an Old Monk bottle - Not my work

Little Buddha on an Old Monk bottle - Not my work

It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to exist. You created something where nothing was present earlier. There was zilch before you put your skills into it to bring something to life. Pat yourself on the back, it's a big deal. 

Don't worry about creating something small, casual or flimsy. Creation doesn't have a quota that you would not have enough left in you to make something serious. Quite the contrary. Creating these small projects could actually serve as a fertile ground for you to build your next big thing. 

I had planned that I would not publish another new post on the blog until I release the book. I imagined that this would allow me to pour all my energy into finishing up the book. But, I felt something stuck inside of me which affected my writing process. Perhaps, I should have realised that I would derive energy from the simple act of writing whether it is on the book or not is irrelevant.

Brewed Green Tea. Made and edited a video

The energies you derive from doing these small, off the cuff projects, coalesce to support your big dream project. Human race has been moved forward by people who created, in their small chambers, irrespective of what is going to happen to their projects, simply for the joy of creating. 

 

It is almost addictive like a drug whose fix you need regularly. Once you experience the high it gives you, you can never turn back. Only that it is much more beneficial and progresses us towards our quest to find meaning in our lives.

The Art of Showing Your Creativity - Advice by Austin Kleon

If you are a creative, take a few moments to consider the following points:

  • You believe your art should speak for itself

  • 'Marketing' and 'promotion' discomfort you

  • You want your work to be discovered by more people

  • You want your art to get the recognition you think it deserves

  • You don't think you have a thick skin to deal with the trolls which come with sharing your work online

  • You want to add value to people's lives through your work

  • While sharing your art, you fear stepping on the wrong side of the fine line between adding value and spamming

As a writer, I associate myself to a lot of the above points. And so do a lot of other creatives. Painters, musicians, photographers, designers, filmmakers travellers, entrepreneurs and many other creatives are going through the same struggle of staying relevant, having their work seen by more people and at the same time maintaining the honesty and integrity in sharing your work.

Addressing these fears and issues, is a great book Show Your Work by Austin Kleon. This is a sort of manifesto of the current times for creatives to share their work the right way. Here are some of my notes from the book with some commentary. Hope you get around to reading the book and find it as useful and relevant as I did.

Note: Excerpts from the book are in italics

 

WHY SHOULD YOU SHARE

Once we start creating, our self-doubt tells us that your work is not good enough or maybe just not relevant to the people. But, more often than not, that's not the case. We grossly underestimate the usefulness of our own work.

“To someone, it may be better than you dare to think”
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When you share ideas, sometimes conversations start around it. That is your contribution in this world. Give what you have, don't be a hoarder.

Scenius - Not all of us are geniuses. But, we grow with the help of the scene around us. 

Find a scenius, pay attention to what others are sharing, and then start taking note of what they’re not sharing. Be on the lookout for voids that you can fill with your own efforts, no matter how bad they are at first.

She can share her sketches and works-in-progress, post pictures of her studio, or blog about her influences, inspiration, and tools - the thing she really cares about. By, doing this, she can really connect with the people who care about the same things as hers.

The biggest takeaway for me was the simple fact that what you find trivial might actually be very useful for someone else. 

"You can't find your voice until you use it"

Sometimes, we wait for a while to find our own voice. But, how would we find it until we've used it in different scenarios? What niche of photography would you like until you start clicking different settings? Not everyone knows for sure as to which format of design they prefer until they try their hands at them. 

Remember:

Work doesn't speak for itsef. Even the renaissance had to be found.

 

WHAT TO SHARE:

''What are you working on?' Stick to that question and you'll be good. Don't show your lunch or latte, show your work.

Before sharing anything, put it through the 'So What' Test. Would people care about what you are showing? 

“Turn your flow into stock. Flow is the feed. It’s the posts and the tweets. Stock is the durable stuff. It’s the content your produce that is as interesting in two months (or two years) as it is today. It spreads slowly but surely, building fans over time”
— Robin Sloan

Sloan says the magic formula is to maintain your flow while working on your stock in the background.

Your influences are all worth sharing because they clue people in to who you are and what you do - sometimes even more than your own work.

Share your process - this is an obvious yet fantastic piece of advice. A lot of people want to know how you do what you do and it can be very helpful for them. If you are signed up to my mailing list, you would see a direct result of this in my emails. I have started sharing things that inspire me, books I read, music I find therapeutic. By doing this, I hope I can connect with people who might enjoy what I write in my posts. Remember, you don't have to ensure that everyone in the world appreciates your art. You need to find only a handful to form a tribe who supports you when you need help and celebrates your victories. 

 

HOW TO SHARE:

Build Sharing into your routine. 

Don't give in to the pressure to self-edit too much. Don't try to be hip or cool. Being open and honest about what you like is the best way to connect with people who like those things, too. 

People like to hear good stories. Learn how to speak about your work in a manner which evokes emotion. Read books by good authors and notice how they weave stories. 

“The cat sat on a mat is not a story. The cat sat on the dog’s mat is a story.”
— John le Carre

On Structure:

A good story can be created in the following structure: Once upon a time, there was _______. Every day, ______--. One day, ______. Because of that, _____. Because of that, ______. Until finally, ____________

There's a way to tell open -ended stories, where we acknowledge that we're snack-dab in the middle of a story, and we don't know how it all ends.

The minute you learn something, turn around and teach it to others. Share your reading lists. Point to helpful reference materials. Teach what you know. Share your trade secrets.

This is what I aim to achieve with this post.

Make stuff you love and talk about stuff you love and you'll attract people who love that kind of stuff. You want hearts not eyeballs. 

"Compulsive avoidance of embarrassment is a form of suicide." If you spend your lfe avoiding vulnerabiliti, you and your work will never truly connect with other people. Learn to take a punch.

Don't quit your show.

You can't plan on anything; you can only go about your work, as Isak Dinesen wrote, "every day, without hope or despair." You can't count on success; you can only leave open the possibility for it, and be ready to jump on and take the ride when it comes for you.

How much of this would you be willing to use? I'd love to hear your opinions, suggestions and questions. Drop in an email or write in the comments below. 

And as Kleon says, Credit is always due, so a hat tip to BrainPickings which has been a major source of inspiration for this post's format. 

Lull

For the past few weeks, I haven't been able to find the pool of creativity which earlier I was able to reach into. In the recent past, I could summon ideas almost at will but now I feel uninspired. This has resulted in discontent and a sense that if unchecked, this could turn into a longer term state of mind. Thus, I write this post to investigate this feeling and find a way to come out of it.

I call this state The Lull. Lull is a period of inactivity and of dissatisfaction because of it. This is not the same as depression though you can call it one stage before that. In fact a lull can occur even when your life seems interesting from an outside point of view. Even the best of us are susceptible to it - Stephen Fry's note on it is a recommended reading. Or much closer, I am reminded of Dhanya who moved out of his country even though he was happy since that wasn't it for him. 

Why does it really happen? I mean, have't we been taught that aiming for happiness is a good way to live life? Personally, I put it down to a skewed ratio of consumption vs production. I've always had a constant urge to create something to feel relevant and good about myself. And in the past few weeks I wasn't creating anything. My writing was gone, I wasn't learning much of Spanish, no exercise, no playing guitar. I even stopped playing Snooker. I was just consuming by way of watching movies, partying out with friends, so on and so forth. 

So, how do we fix this? First step is to actually realise that you are going through this phase. It seems like a flippant statement to make; it is anything but. Notice that you are entering a lull and if you let it take it's course, you can spiral down into a negative place. 

How do you notice this change? Chances are that you'll suddenly find yourself in this situation and break down or just be absolutely frustrated with how you ended up there. But, more often than not, this happens gradually and not overnight. So, notice small changes in your best habits. For me, it was writing lesser and lesser. Writing was one thing that gave me peace of mind. But, lately, I had not even been able to write in my journal, forget about writing blog posts. This then went on to procrastination and quitting on the targets I set for myself. 

Second step is to notice what are you doing instead of that habit. I started deriving acknowledgement from writing small Haikus and showing off to my friends who were more than generous with their praise. This, then gave me a false sense of accomplishment which prevented me from doing my long due writing project.

Next, ignore your mind. You see, whenever you want to take up something against inertia, your mind will give you reasons to not do it. Waking up early would be tough because it is too cold outside the blanket. You don't feel inspired enough to create that tune you always wanted to. You don't have a good idea to write a post about. Or, going for a run is too troublesome. But, stop this thinking.

It will seem a monumental task if you think through the whole thing. Shut your mind off. Just pick up the tool of your trade. No one's asking you to do anything with it, just pick it up for a few moments. Take one single step. Get off the bed and stand for one second. Hold the guitar in your hand for 5 minutes. Take a blank piece of paper and a pen. Tie your shoelaces and take a step out of the door. This is it. That's all you need to do in this moment. 

Figure out priorities and lower your ambitions. Focus on even fewer things. Take just one single thing and do it. Not even do it great, but just do it. If you are navigating your ship in stormy seas, you don't care about whether your ship's paint is coming off. You just want to make sure that your ship doesn't sink. You can worry about the fancy stuff later. Similarly, in a lull, just focus on getting out of it. Avoid being overtly critical of how you do it and what you did during that time. 

Create the most fertile ground. Figure out the scenarios that you were in which enabled you to feel inspired. If it is the set and setting that has changed, find a way to create those situations yourself. Perhaps you were spending more time alone. Or, maybe you were hanging out with a lot of new people. Or maybe, you had a good routine. Whatever it was that helped you be calm and content earlier, try to set it up again.

tldr; Check your consumption vs production ratio and go back to that one thing that gave you the peace of mind in the first place. For me, this post is a start in that direction.

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Inspiration and Getting Things Done

There have been times, which quite honestly come way too often, when I have felt uninspired and not wanted to do anything for a long time. I have procrastinated, produced work below my standards of quality and hence have been miserable. On the other hand, there also have been times when I felt a flow, was inspired and thought about something deeply and produced the best work that I can.

Obviously, we all want to maximise the latter and do away with the former. But, for this I do not want to rely on factors that are out of my control. Hence, I’ve found myself a few actionable items, hacks if you please, which have helped me stay more in the inspired zone and allowed me to produce good, meaningful work that I can be proud of. This post is about those things and I hope some of these are useful to you too.

Inspiration, for me, is something that drives me to create, to do and sometimes even consume. A good book inspires me to write stories and pen down my thoughts as well as inspiring me to pick up another good book to read. Inspiration moves you to act, it pulls you away from inaction. It instills a sense of optimism as if everything that you desire is in your reach and shows you a clear path to achieve those. But, where does it come from?

A good book, obviously. A moving speech, a thought provoking movie or a good conversation. But, apart from these external factors, I believe our own thoughts are our biggest sources of inspiration. Don’t we all know how our best ideas have a habit of arriving to us in the shower? But, how do we tap into this source?

The best way is to put yourself into those positions. I am not talking about the long walks, showers, long bike rides kind of thing. I mean a step after that. Start recording during that time. I am deeply influenced by and believe in a brilliant TED talk says that how the inspiration fairy grabs you and you have to act in that moment or else that fairy will move on to the next available, better prepared seeker. Keep a notebook at hand, record a voice message to self on your phone, tell a friend. Once these inspirations are recorded, you can work on them at a later time.

But, there are times when even after knowing all this stuff, you can’t act on it. What to do then? Don’t we all have a few brilliant ideas in our heads but nothing to show it for. Try these:

1. Change things
Our mind gets bored with repetitive things and seeks constant change (an oxymoron, I know). Whether it be in foods we eat, things we do, our hobbies or even our relationships. But, the irony is when we do seek out changes, it resists. Mind is a weird creature, seeking change but resisting when the moment to change comes along. Come over that resistance and change something. Move to a different location to work or change your posture or use a standing desk. Change helps to bring fresh perspectives and hopefully it can drive you back into flow.

2. Just get started
Starting up something is the biggest step and requires the most effort. At times, I write random stuff just to get started. Sometimes I even write about the fact that I don’t have anything to write about. But, after substantial number of minutes have passed with me putting pen to paper, something good starts to emerge. And it has served me well in other activities as well.

3. Get a good tool
An instrument or the tools of a trade/skill are very important for the kind or even the amount (and maybe thus the quality) of work produced. It is easy to say that a good artist excels irrespective of the environment she lives in. But, there is no harm in using all the help that you can get. I have not been much of a snob about it though - I still use a worn out Dell which heats up after 10 minutes of usage which also happens to be the amount of time it takes to boot up. But recently, I got a beautiful notebook and a Staedtler as a gift and I bought myself a writing desk. They make me want to use them. Beautiful tools call out to you. They want to serve the purpose they were built for and thus help you get into a flow.

4. Keep your personal and work tools separate
This is to ensure that there is no context creep between the two and it lets you focus on each thing separately. I have set up my personal, albeit slower laptop for personal projects and I keep my office laptop just for that - office work. It lets me be more involved in my day job and allows me more time or atleast a perception of more time for personal work.

What to do after you are inspired and have recorded your thoughts? Elaborate, even when you are not in the flow. Neil Gaiman once said that if you write only when you are inspired, you can be a good poet at best. But, to be a great novelist, you have to slog it out through drudgery even when you are not inspired. You have to put in those extra hours, one word after another and hope that you can get into a flow.

Related watch - Jack White on Inspiration

First drafts are always crappy

Recently, some of my friends were fretting about the brand new redesign of their website. They were comparing it to Musicfellas and thought that theirs wasn’t good (which in opinion was actually way too good for the first version). It caused them grief and a little sadness. They were anxious. What they had forgotten was that they were comparing something which was a result of over 6 months of painstakingly discussing and sometimes even fighting over the minutest of details with something which was put out in a few days.

It’s not just them. I had been procrastinating on writing a short article for a friend’s blog for quite some time myself. I had a fear of imperfection. I didn’t realise one key point - first drafts are always crappy.

Things improve over time:

We don’t see how many pages a writer has torn apart to produce that great novel.

We don’t see the many erroneous brush strokes behind that final masterpiece.

We don’t see the multiple wrong notes before that final perfect one which makes a genius piece of music.

We don’t see the many changes in the color, size or placement of a button on a website before the final version.

And this can be overwhelming, depressing and a lot of times demotivating.  

Biz Stone, Twitter Co-Founder, once famously said: “Timing, perseverance, and ten years of trying will eventually make you look like an overnight success." Overnight success stories and get famous/rich/better quick is what we want. But, we forget that the people who seem be able to do that, have achieved it over a period of time. 

At Musicfellas, we didn’t get great (that’s what people have said) at design from the day one. Our first versions were almost embarrassing. It took us time, patience and constant perseverance to achieve what we did.

So, if you feel like you are creating less than awesome stuff to start with, realise that it is natural. You are already way ahead of so many people who haven’t even started something. You are in the top 1% of creators (completely made up stat). For you to achieve perfection, it is completely OK to take time.

Be aware that beautiful things, and the best ones at that, emerge incrementally.

Added bonus: Have a look at some of the earliest versions of the most popular websites in the world and see how they have evolved and gotten better with time: Wayback Machine.

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Appreciate your time. Thanks!

Fear of imperfection

Ever since I last wrote, I’ve been trying hard to write something and publish it for people to see but haven’t been able to because of a fear of imperfection in what I write. Actually, it happens a lot. I like to believe I am a perfectionist, not that I am, but I’d like to believe so. Or atleast that I am striving towards it. A fear of producing something perfect was preventing me from doing something which is good. 

In the last week, I drafted a lot of articles on many different ideas but I just couldn’t publish them. I wrote on things which were important to me, which moved me but I wasn’t happy with what I had written. I knew it could have been better. 

The definition of perfect here is something that I feel proud of producing, I feel good about and could be at peace with. Although, we all do stuff seeking an acknowledgement of the world around us or of ourselves, it eventually comes down how that makes us feel. It gives us a feeling of being able to create something, of adding value, of playing our part in this entirely meaningless, long drawn out game of life that someone is enjoying at our behest. If we are characters in a game, we might as well have fun while doing it. 

I recently read the book The Spy who came in from the Cold by John le Carre (great spy novel, completely different from what you would expect in a spy mystery) which propelled the author into stardom. The author later reflects that his life of comfort was now over. Anything that he ever produces again would always be pried and judged upon by eyes of the world. The activity that brought him joy had suddenly lost its innocence.

I am not sure that how he was able to deal with it but I am trying to internalise it. Instead of waiting for the end product, I want to enjoy the process, every moment of writing, whether I publish it or not is a different matter altogether. And if I do decide to publish it, it is fine if it is crappy. Things get better with time. 

After all, what bothers us the most, what keeps us await at night are not the things that we did but we wish we could have done. 

How do you guys deal with, if it exists, your struggle for perfection? (I also realised, leaving a blog post with a question is a good way to end when you don’t know how to end it).

Did you like what you read so far? You can subscribe to my mailing list to get updates on new posts. I am not sure how frequently I’ll send you an email but it will never be more often than once a week. 
Appreciate your time. Thanks!

What separates great music from genius

Good music is just good enough. You won’t write a blog post about it. You might not post it on your wall. You might not even recommend it to a friend. So, lets not talk about it.

Great music is something which you find yourself listening to every time you start your music listening session. Something which more often than not you recommend to a friend of yours or post it on your wall. Again, not something I want to discuss here.

Genius music. This is what interests me. This is the kind that keeps you awake at night. Makes you lose sleep because you don’t want to stop listening to it. For some us, even makes us hold our pee.  But, its not the kind you post on your facebook wall. It is just too precious for that. You hold it close, listen to it over an over again, get high and probably write a blog post on it.