The Most Beautiful Shape: Letting Your Creative Work Find Its Most Natural Form

Creative and artistic projects can begin from any number of sources, ideas and sparks of inspiration.

A snippet of overheard witty conversation at party, the atmosphere of an old jazz record, a collision of colours in nature, a scent that recalls the summers of your childhood, and a million others...

The common factor though, is they all begin SOMEWHERE. However small the idea, it’s our starting point, the tiny jetty we set off from in our eager hopeful boats.

Pretty soon after we set sail though, what happens if we begin to get a little sea sick? If we get a little anxious about the way this new creative project is going, realising already it’s not quite turning out as we expected, what happens then?

We’ve barely lost site of the shoreline, but the wind’s changed direction, the sails are billowing and our vessel’s heading off determinedly in a completely new direction... This wasn’t the trip we planned!

For example, what if the most rewarding parts of your ambitious biting political satirical novel are actually in the intimate personal dynamics between three minor characters?

Maybe your exhibition watercolours of natural coastal landscapes is dominated by the beauty and impact of the solitary painting that features a derelict lighthouse?

What if, what started out as a dance record based on heavily processed electronic rhythms, only truly makes your spine tingle within the spaces of its slower ambient interludes?

Do We Haul Back The Rudder? Jump Overboard? Or Something Else?

When this happens, when we feel the heart of the creative project drifting away from what we originally expected it to be, we have a number of options.

Number one, we could panic, make every effort to haul the project back to where we want it to be, force it along a straight and narrow path, however much it seems to be resisting that path.

Or, number two, we could give up, jump ship and abandon it completely, exasperated at its refusal to conform to our perfectly formed expectations, exclaiming it’s got to be our way or no way at all.

Or, we could take the third option. Let go of the rudder, lay back, and let the wind take us. Allow the art to breathe, to have its own way, to find its own natural form and definition.

Which of the three sounds most like what you’d do? Which option would be most conducive to getting the most interesting and rewarding results from the creative project?

Which would be the most pleasing to your sense of natural creativity?

The Courage and The Faith

Every piece of creative work we begin has, to some extent, to find its own life, its own shape, and its own meaning. To loosen our hold, to stand back and let this happen, often takes great courage and faith. The courage to relinquish control and step into the unknown. And the faith that we have the patience, creative ability and resources to see the project through to its natural conclusion.

Some of the most famous inventions and artworks in history came as a result of their creator trying to create one thing and discovering something completely different as a “happy accident”.

Yet still we often have such fixed ideas of what our creative work “SHOULD” be that we lose the ability to let it fulfil its own potential, and take its own beautiful natural shape, whatever that may be.

Maybe the most beautiful shapes aren’t always the ones we set out to discover, but rather the ones that we allow to discover us...

:: Share Your Experience ::

How does this idea apply to YOUR creative life? How could you benefit from letting your creative projects find their own beautiful shape, their own rhythm and evolve into the most amazing and rewarding possible creative work for you?

To share your comments, just click on the comments link below.

Enjoying The Creative Process: The Tale of Two Culinary Perfectionists

My partner and I love cooking together. It’s something that we both value and enjoy in our lives, from the choosing to the preparing, the cooking and finally the eating. But we didn’t always appreciate it as we do now. Here’s what used to happen:

We’d get out a selection of recipe books (at LEAST 7, but preferably double figures), scan through every page of every book and narrow our choice down from hundreds to a couple of dozen or so.

Then began the debate on which was most healthy, which was easiest to cook, which we hadn’t eaten recently, which we had time to create, and, crucially it seemed then, which we had the exact ingredients for.

More often than not we’d stumble at that last stage and realise we didn’t the right type of natural sea salt or our pak choi wasn’t organic and return to a previous recipe to try to choose again.

An hour or so later (if we’d chosen quickly) we’d then prepare and cook our carefully selected meal. Usually though, with thoughts in our minds like: “Hmmm. I think I quite fancy that chicken dish after all. I wonder if we could do that tomorrow? Or the next day. The other recipe books are still out, maybe I should go and see if there’s something better?”.

And then came the tasting. Now we’re not gourmet chefs but both capable of following a good recipe and making a delicious meal. Yet our comments at the table would be things like “It’s nice BUUUT… could’ve used a splash more soy sauce in the marinade” or “I think next time we should slice the carrots more thinly, the recipe said 3mm batons and some of these are definitely nearer 5mm.” Ok maybe that last one is a slight exaggeration…

The point is, there was no enjoyment in the process. What could be a fun, creative shared experience, became instead scientific, analytical, stilted, almost obsessed with making the perfect decision at every stage. And mostly our focus was on what could’ve been, the choices we didn’t take, the chances missed.

Sound at all familiar to you?

Now, our creative kitchen habits are rather different. We’ll pick an ingredient, say chicken or spaghetti or broccoli, then grab a few recipes that use that ingredient and pick the first one that appeals to us both. Which takes up to about 5 minutes.

Then - and this part is significant - we put all the other recipe books away!

We start cooking, maybe add a few creative tweaks along the way, using the recipe as a guide and an outline, not a sacred set of laws that must be obeyed at all costs.

Our focus is now on ENJOYING the creating, cooking and eating of the meal we’ve chosen. And now, the whole process is quite a different experience, we do enjoy it so much more at every stage. (Well OK sometimes those carrots are still a little chunky, but hey it adds a bit of variety in life!)

Think about your own experiences for a moment. How does you relate to the above in YOUR creative life? Which are you most like when it comes to choosing, preparing and creating a new project? The drawn out analytical perfectionist, ever hung up on making the perfect decision at every step? Or the free flowing creative, picking one project then committing to it, giving it your best and enjoying each stage of the creative process?

If you’re more like the first, be assured you’re far from alone. Yet how well does it serve your creativity and enjoyment of creating?

How could changing your approach increase your creativity and raise your enjoyment of all the creative projects you embark on? After all, if we don’t on some fundamental levels ENJOY creating, where’s the motivation for continuing to create at all?

:: Share Your Experience ::

How is the creative process for you? Which of the above descriptions do you relate to most? I'd love to hear your comments, just click on the comments link below.