Love this. Many years ago I heard an interview with one of the musical Marsalis clan talking about something similar. They said the first ideas they had for something were rarely the best; they challenged themselves to come up with a dozen more ideas before deciding which one to use. I try to do the same, and even though it takes a little longer, or sometimes a LOT longer, I'm always glad I persisted.
A dozen or more ideas! Wow. But maybe that's what it takes. Supposedly Thomas Edison said (there are a lot of apocryphal quotes attributed to Edison) "To have a great idea, have a lot of them."
"Use disfluency as a cue to keep going" - this is a very useful tip I should keep in mind at all times while writing. I often get frustrated when my ideas don't flow smoothly and I'm tempted to give up. Sometimes I keep going and I end up with something I like, other times I decide it would be better to try again later.
To persevere in the face of disfluency. Yup, I like that. Thanks for sharing! :)
You are welcome, Andreea! This also makes me think of the intriguing research
on "implementation intentions." This approach involves making a plan in advance for what we will do when we hit a roadblock—such as, "When the work I'm doing on this project starts to feel difficult and unsatisfying, I will set a timer for 20 minutes and work for 20 minutes more, no matter how good or bad I'm feeling about how the work is going." I wonder if this would be an effective way to counter the urge to give up . . .
I realise what makes the Franz Kline method possible is that in creative pursuits, there is no "downside risk" (and payoffs are massively asymmetric). He can make a 100 sketches that he doesn't like and all he has to do is to discard it, but if the process has resulted in at least one good sketch, there's a massive win there.
Excellent point, Karthik. Also, it seems that Kline and other creators don't know what "success" looks like until they see it--and in order to see it, they have to make it.
On this topic I recommend a book by Lorne Buchman, "Make to Know: From Spaces of Uncertainty to Creative Discovery."
Hi, I'm from "Austin's crew", haha. I've written to you about a journaling course I'm developing, but this post touches on what I experienced while working towards an exhibit of a large project of paintings and memoir comics called Life's Work: A Visual Memoir. I worked toward the show for two years, 2020 - 2022, which made it my most prolonged effort by far. I pushed past worrying about what I was doing into becoming more accepting of each new idea, and the ideas did keep coming, much to my surprise and delight. I'm not sure if that's exactly what you're talking about, or if you mean something that happens (or doesn't happen) in one sitting.
That's a great variation, B.A.! I WAS writing, I think, about ideas generated in one sitting--and that's the approach taken by the researchers I cite--but how interesting to contemplate the idea that this phenomenon (that we think that our well of ideas has run dry when really there are more to be drawn out) operates not only across hours but also across months and even years.
How cool, B.A. - your "Life's Work: A Visual Memoir." Did you video your show? I'd love to see it. I'm doing a similar thing a book of my song lyrics, photos, paintings and writings as memoir.
I began songwriting at age 9 - a very long time ago - all of my creating has been in sputters, spurts, streams . I go in cycles of extreme focus and persistence and then hit the wall , have to rest and regroup and start again. It is what it is.
It's a good feeling when you discover something you didn't know, an even better feeling when the thing you didn't know is something you've always known on a deeper lever but didn't know what to call.
My leanings have always been towards the persistence model, though I didn't know it had a name. Perhaps that's because of my reliance upon persistence as a means of coping with depression. Insight is unreliable and untenable when your mind is so often cloudy and closed. Even when it comes it's not always bright enough to pierce the dark or shatter the gloom. What you need isn't insight, but ritual and routine. A steady means of making it through the day. Something consistent and reliable. A room of one's own, that doesn't flicker or sway.
Every morning, whether rain or shine outside or in my head, with or without insight I make my way to my desk and I start to write, I start to search, I start to reach, I persist until something starts to speak...
Duane, the author Sommerset Maugham said something like, "I only write when inspiration strikes. Thankfully, inspiration strikes every morning at 9:00 at my desk."
Another of Austin’s crew here. I’m a studio artist, when I get really stuck I set myself a task, like, make 30 4” collages using only stuff from the recycling bin. Most of that turns out to be garbage but eventually by the end I start to make some things I like. I find my own creativity struggles with completely open ended parameters. And it never hurts to let the muse find me at work ready for a new idea.
George Harrison made a remark in the Beatles documentary "Anthology" that perplexed the hell out of me when I watched it about a decade ago. On the subject of his songwriting journey, he said that when he began writing songs for the band in 1963, "John and Paul had already written all their bad songs."
As I recall, Harrison was explaining that he was in a bit of a vulnerable space because he hadn't gotten his "bad songs" behind him.
I became fixated on the idea of John and Paul writing a bunch of bad songs. This clashes with a lot of the preconceptions we have about talent. Talented people don't churn out sub-par ideas, songs, paintings, novellas, etc., the thinking goes. They apply themselves to learning a craft, musical instrument, or discipline. Then they make outstanding contributions, right out of the gates. Maybe they don't even apply themselves that much. Maybe they're just really observant, or intuitive, or technically competent; they have fantastic muses.
I've reflected on this and consider it a harmful misconception. I've learned that exceptionally creative people in the arts and sciences are noteworthy for the sheer volume of ideas they come up with. They produce a huge volume of sub-par, inconsequential, underwhelming works. They just have great ideas that kind of bubble up to the surface because they keep going. (I think the caveat is that you need some kind of systematic and honest way of vetting ideas so you don't invest too much energy into the bad ones.)
This article brought up so many great points, and I know my comments are a bit tangential. But I wanted to share my story about the George Harrison interview because it turned out to be a strangely pivotal moment in my life.
This is really timely. I've just restarted a project that I've failed to start several times in the past, and I immediately knew the cause once you mentioned the creative cliff illusion. I definitely fall into thinking that resistance means it's time to stop, so it's encouraging to hear I should be doing the opposite. Thanks for this :)
This reminds me of sports. I play basketball (played is far more accurate tense). During a formal or informal game, there always comes that moment when the level of your conditioning, your physical preparation, becomes paramount. That's when you "hit the wall." Great players can crash through that wall (often, but not always) and keep going. Exhausted, yes, and still playing hard. Persistence.
Annie, you've hit the nail on the head with creative grit! Love how you highlighted its power in turning challenges into opportunities. Thank you for your wisdom🚀
Oh yes! Constantly! I’m a huge fan of “churning out” a stock pile of Sh***y First Drafts only to learn by mistakes and to try the so called less traveled roads. Very often one of the works I did first turn out to be one of the most interesting. Thank you for this post.
Thank you Pam. My show wasn't videotaped, no, but there are plenty of pictures here: https://www.balampman.com/#/lifeswork/. I think I go in cycles of extreme focus as well. I think that's okay. As you say, "it is what it is"!
Thanks, Annie. I've also arrived here via Austin Kleon. I Love the concept of "Creative Grit." I found your article provocative. Perhaps there is short term CG and long term CG. Franz Kline is a wonderful snapshot of short and long CG with his plethora of "studies" drawn/painted on a phone book worth of pages done and discarded into piles in a corner...that's his short term grit - his long term CG is sitting and sorting his pages and finding the one/s that resonate most with him and then transmitting those lines, curves, swooshes, smudges and sensuality on to the canvas.
As a songwriter, it mirrors the process of blocking the critic and letting Flow of Consciousness have total freedom. This is short term CG. Then comes a little distance, the ledge? - it could be a walk, a good night's sleep, a day job, the laundry. The time frame could be one day, months or years. Then the return to the work - the pile in the corner, the scribbles on the pages, the melody ideas, the story lines - Exposing myself to the work as an outsider and asking "what's the main point? emotion? Image? Then inviting the critic/editor into the nascent creation - putting it on notice to be gentle in parsing out the resonant essence - listening, pruning, adding to. Recognizing Which one of these "studies" shimmer, shine through and sigh - pulling me in. Processes. There are some songs I've written in minutes and others that have taken several years. Some say that Van Gough should have completed more work, but perhaps the unfinished pieces were a means to create capacity and pathway for his masterpieces. How does an artist, writer, musician, sculptor measure one's success? By volume? By sales? By media recognition? And at what point does the measurement begin and/or end? Just some thoughts.
Love this. Many years ago I heard an interview with one of the musical Marsalis clan talking about something similar. They said the first ideas they had for something were rarely the best; they challenged themselves to come up with a dozen more ideas before deciding which one to use. I try to do the same, and even though it takes a little longer, or sometimes a LOT longer, I'm always glad I persisted.
A dozen or more ideas! Wow. But maybe that's what it takes. Supposedly Thomas Edison said (there are a lot of apocryphal quotes attributed to Edison) "To have a great idea, have a lot of them."
"Use disfluency as a cue to keep going" - this is a very useful tip I should keep in mind at all times while writing. I often get frustrated when my ideas don't flow smoothly and I'm tempted to give up. Sometimes I keep going and I end up with something I like, other times I decide it would be better to try again later.
To persevere in the face of disfluency. Yup, I like that. Thanks for sharing! :)
You are welcome, Andreea! This also makes me think of the intriguing research
on "implementation intentions." This approach involves making a plan in advance for what we will do when we hit a roadblock—such as, "When the work I'm doing on this project starts to feel difficult and unsatisfying, I will set a timer for 20 minutes and work for 20 minutes more, no matter how good or bad I'm feeling about how the work is going." I wonder if this would be an effective way to counter the urge to give up . . .
Implementation intentions: Strong effects of simple plans, by Peter M. Gollwitzer, American Psychologist, 1999: https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1999-05760-004
I realise what makes the Franz Kline method possible is that in creative pursuits, there is no "downside risk" (and payoffs are massively asymmetric). He can make a 100 sketches that he doesn't like and all he has to do is to discard it, but if the process has resulted in at least one good sketch, there's a massive win there.
Need to follow this method more!
Excellent point, Karthik. Also, it seems that Kline and other creators don't know what "success" looks like until they see it--and in order to see it, they have to make it.
On this topic I recommend a book by Lorne Buchman, "Make to Know: From Spaces of Uncertainty to Creative Discovery."
https://www.amazon.com/Make-Know-Uncertainty-Creative-Discovery/dp/0500024529
Hi, I'm from "Austin's crew", haha. I've written to you about a journaling course I'm developing, but this post touches on what I experienced while working towards an exhibit of a large project of paintings and memoir comics called Life's Work: A Visual Memoir. I worked toward the show for two years, 2020 - 2022, which made it my most prolonged effort by far. I pushed past worrying about what I was doing into becoming more accepting of each new idea, and the ideas did keep coming, much to my surprise and delight. I'm not sure if that's exactly what you're talking about, or if you mean something that happens (or doesn't happen) in one sitting.
That's a great variation, B.A.! I WAS writing, I think, about ideas generated in one sitting--and that's the approach taken by the researchers I cite--but how interesting to contemplate the idea that this phenomenon (that we think that our well of ideas has run dry when really there are more to be drawn out) operates not only across hours but also across months and even years.
How cool, B.A. - your "Life's Work: A Visual Memoir." Did you video your show? I'd love to see it. I'm doing a similar thing a book of my song lyrics, photos, paintings and writings as memoir.
I began songwriting at age 9 - a very long time ago - all of my creating has been in sputters, spurts, streams . I go in cycles of extreme focus and persistence and then hit the wall , have to rest and regroup and start again. It is what it is.
It's a good feeling when you discover something you didn't know, an even better feeling when the thing you didn't know is something you've always known on a deeper lever but didn't know what to call.
My leanings have always been towards the persistence model, though I didn't know it had a name. Perhaps that's because of my reliance upon persistence as a means of coping with depression. Insight is unreliable and untenable when your mind is so often cloudy and closed. Even when it comes it's not always bright enough to pierce the dark or shatter the gloom. What you need isn't insight, but ritual and routine. A steady means of making it through the day. Something consistent and reliable. A room of one's own, that doesn't flicker or sway.
Every morning, whether rain or shine outside or in my head, with or without insight I make my way to my desk and I start to write, I start to search, I start to reach, I persist until something starts to speak...
Duane, the author Sommerset Maugham said something like, "I only write when inspiration strikes. Thankfully, inspiration strikes every morning at 9:00 at my desk."
Love it! That's it exactly! Thanks so much!
Another of Austin’s crew here. I’m a studio artist, when I get really stuck I set myself a task, like, make 30 4” collages using only stuff from the recycling bin. Most of that turns out to be garbage but eventually by the end I start to make some things I like. I find my own creativity struggles with completely open ended parameters. And it never hurts to let the muse find me at work ready for a new idea.
I wonder where's the happy idea: Eureka! Is creativity a goal by itself?, what to create for?
George Harrison made a remark in the Beatles documentary "Anthology" that perplexed the hell out of me when I watched it about a decade ago. On the subject of his songwriting journey, he said that when he began writing songs for the band in 1963, "John and Paul had already written all their bad songs."
As I recall, Harrison was explaining that he was in a bit of a vulnerable space because he hadn't gotten his "bad songs" behind him.
I became fixated on the idea of John and Paul writing a bunch of bad songs. This clashes with a lot of the preconceptions we have about talent. Talented people don't churn out sub-par ideas, songs, paintings, novellas, etc., the thinking goes. They apply themselves to learning a craft, musical instrument, or discipline. Then they make outstanding contributions, right out of the gates. Maybe they don't even apply themselves that much. Maybe they're just really observant, or intuitive, or technically competent; they have fantastic muses.
I've reflected on this and consider it a harmful misconception. I've learned that exceptionally creative people in the arts and sciences are noteworthy for the sheer volume of ideas they come up with. They produce a huge volume of sub-par, inconsequential, underwhelming works. They just have great ideas that kind of bubble up to the surface because they keep going. (I think the caveat is that you need some kind of systematic and honest way of vetting ideas so you don't invest too much energy into the bad ones.)
This article brought up so many great points, and I know my comments are a bit tangential. But I wanted to share my story about the George Harrison interview because it turned out to be a strangely pivotal moment in my life.
This is really timely. I've just restarted a project that I've failed to start several times in the past, and I immediately knew the cause once you mentioned the creative cliff illusion. I definitely fall into thinking that resistance means it's time to stop, so it's encouraging to hear I should be doing the opposite. Thanks for this :)
This reminds me of sports. I play basketball (played is far more accurate tense). During a formal or informal game, there always comes that moment when the level of your conditioning, your physical preparation, becomes paramount. That's when you "hit the wall." Great players can crash through that wall (often, but not always) and keep going. Exhausted, yes, and still playing hard. Persistence.
there's something to be said about using disfluency as motivation.
But this implies that we have to learn to tolerant distress, and not run away from it whilst on that journey.
That spotlight of attention must be guided and held.
It's just so much easier watching other people talk about art than *making* good art.
Annie, you've hit the nail on the head with creative grit! Love how you highlighted its power in turning challenges into opportunities. Thank you for your wisdom🚀
Creative Grit! I love the title, sounds like the story of my life. Good stuff! Thank you for sharing.
Oh yes! Constantly! I’m a huge fan of “churning out” a stock pile of Sh***y First Drafts only to learn by mistakes and to try the so called less traveled roads. Very often one of the works I did first turn out to be one of the most interesting. Thank you for this post.
Thank you Pam. My show wasn't videotaped, no, but there are plenty of pictures here: https://www.balampman.com/#/lifeswork/. I think I go in cycles of extreme focus as well. I think that's okay. As you say, "it is what it is"!
Thanks, Annie. I've also arrived here via Austin Kleon. I Love the concept of "Creative Grit." I found your article provocative. Perhaps there is short term CG and long term CG. Franz Kline is a wonderful snapshot of short and long CG with his plethora of "studies" drawn/painted on a phone book worth of pages done and discarded into piles in a corner...that's his short term grit - his long term CG is sitting and sorting his pages and finding the one/s that resonate most with him and then transmitting those lines, curves, swooshes, smudges and sensuality on to the canvas.
As a songwriter, it mirrors the process of blocking the critic and letting Flow of Consciousness have total freedom. This is short term CG. Then comes a little distance, the ledge? - it could be a walk, a good night's sleep, a day job, the laundry. The time frame could be one day, months or years. Then the return to the work - the pile in the corner, the scribbles on the pages, the melody ideas, the story lines - Exposing myself to the work as an outsider and asking "what's the main point? emotion? Image? Then inviting the critic/editor into the nascent creation - putting it on notice to be gentle in parsing out the resonant essence - listening, pruning, adding to. Recognizing Which one of these "studies" shimmer, shine through and sigh - pulling me in. Processes. There are some songs I've written in minutes and others that have taken several years. Some say that Van Gough should have completed more work, but perhaps the unfinished pieces were a means to create capacity and pathway for his masterpieces. How does an artist, writer, musician, sculptor measure one's success? By volume? By sales? By media recognition? And at what point does the measurement begin and/or end? Just some thoughts.