Do you write longhand or on a computer? Or. Do you write in the morning or at night?
What is it that the questioner hopes to understand from these questions that I have heard a million times at writer’s festivals and author talks? I groan internally—in fact next time I think I’ll make it audible—at this waste of time when a writer could be talking about the inspiration for a character, or what they learned from writing the book, or… any of a thousand other more enlightening things.
The creative process holds a fascination for people whose passion is to fall into the creations of others. So they ask questions about what a creative person does—what process they go through. But it is not the process that makes you a creator, the process is the pedestrian enabler. What is important to me as a writer and musician is the connection with that part of myself that is constantly creating and expressing itself, if only I could keep myself out of the way.
There are times when I sit at the piano and in that moment there is no intervening instrument between who I am and the infinite space of the note that is expressing me. How does that happen? When the mechanics of process cease to exist and I allow free access to the fluid eternity of myself.
However, that moment is only possible after hours of the mechanics of playing with stumbling fingers and a methodical brain working it all out—of process.
Music is not about notes any more than writing is about words. Being able to pick up a pencil or construct grammatically correct sentences using a keyboard is the necessary process that we can all engage in, it is the thing that will enable a deeper flow of self expression to emerge, but only if you open yourself up to allow it.
Just because we have all been taught how to string words together does not mean that we can write a book, any more than playing the scale of C minor would enable you to play a Beethoven Sonata. It took me nearly six years to write and edit my novel (my first and only so far). What I was doing was learning how to construct a story; how to develop a plot; how to reveal a character; how to write action; how to select the most effective word for a sentence and a hundred thousand other things I needed to learn (and still need to learn). And it was both a joy and a struggle. I was practicing my scales and arpeggios, working out my chord sequences so that eventually, possibly, maybe, if I’m lucky, one day there will be no pencil in my hand, no finger on the keyboard, only the experience of words arising from the infinite potential of meaning.
More on creativity, same time next week…
***
Also see Christian Mihai What I learned in 5 years of blogging.
Take time. Give time time to do it’s work.
I don’t consider myself to be naturally talented in any area of life, but I know with absolute certainty one thing: that if you put in the time and the effort, you can become at least somewhat good at anything; anything at all.
Image uploaded from https://au.pinterest.com/pin/423901383649780704 Owner unknown.
Salatheel 