It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. —Duke Ellington and Irving Mills
Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out your horn. —Charlie Parker
The true name for the root cause of artist's block, Cameron says, is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of beginning. Fear of not finishing. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of abandonment: many young artists try to become artists against their parents' (usually well-intentioned) wishes, and are plagued by the idea that they have to be great artists in order to justify hurting their parents this badly. But needing to be a great artist makes it hard to be an artist at all, and needing to produce great art makes it hard to produce any art at all. Often we term this fear 'laziness', but procrastination and the inability to start a project are symptoms of fear. The only cure, Cameron says, is love: love your artist and stop yelling at them, at yourself.
One thing we often hear is that art takes discipline. To write a novel, for example, requires fingers on keyboard every day. Cameron says that while fingers on keyboard every day may be important, what's truly necessary to complete that novel is enthusiasm. She describes this as "a spiritual commitment, a loving surrender to our creative process, a loving recognition of all the creativity around us". Art is supposed to be fun, she reminds us. Discipline isn't fun. Enthusiasm is.
A productive artist, says Cameron, is quite often a happy person. Someone who's used to getting their needs met by being unhappy—someone accustomed to getting sympathy or attention as a blocked artist—can easily be threatened by that. Being blocked feels safer than being productive, as well, so often we greet our first artistic successes with indifference: it's not impressive, look how much better this other artist is doing. Or we sabotage ourselves. Cameron has a long list of examples: the screenwriter with an agent interested in this script given a few changes, and the screenwriter doesn't make the changes; the poet who gets approval at the neighborhood open mic, then enters a poetry slam, loses, and stops reading poems in public. To recover from such incidents, what she calls "creative U-turns", we have to first admit we're doing it. "Yes, I did react negatively to fear and pain. Yes, I do need help." Then we have to go looking for that help.
Beginning any new project, it's wise to ask your artist some questions, so as to identify and remove any creative blocks before the project gets going. Ask them again when the work gets difficult or gets stuck.
Don't forget to go on a date with your artist sometime this week and do your morning pages every day!
Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out your horn. —Charlie Parker
The true name for the root cause of artist's block, Cameron says, is fear. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of beginning. Fear of not finishing. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of abandonment: many young artists try to become artists against their parents' (usually well-intentioned) wishes, and are plagued by the idea that they have to be great artists in order to justify hurting their parents this badly. But needing to be a great artist makes it hard to be an artist at all, and needing to produce great art makes it hard to produce any art at all. Often we term this fear 'laziness', but procrastination and the inability to start a project are symptoms of fear. The only cure, Cameron says, is love: love your artist and stop yelling at them, at yourself.
One thing we often hear is that art takes discipline. To write a novel, for example, requires fingers on keyboard every day. Cameron says that while fingers on keyboard every day may be important, what's truly necessary to complete that novel is enthusiasm. She describes this as "a spiritual commitment, a loving surrender to our creative process, a loving recognition of all the creativity around us". Art is supposed to be fun, she reminds us. Discipline isn't fun. Enthusiasm is.
A productive artist, says Cameron, is quite often a happy person. Someone who's used to getting their needs met by being unhappy—someone accustomed to getting sympathy or attention as a blocked artist—can easily be threatened by that. Being blocked feels safer than being productive, as well, so often we greet our first artistic successes with indifference: it's not impressive, look how much better this other artist is doing. Or we sabotage ourselves. Cameron has a long list of examples: the screenwriter with an agent interested in this script given a few changes, and the screenwriter doesn't make the changes; the poet who gets approval at the neighborhood open mic, then enters a poetry slam, loses, and stops reading poems in public. To recover from such incidents, what she calls "creative U-turns", we have to first admit we're doing it. "Yes, I did react negatively to fear and pain. Yes, I do need help." Then we have to go looking for that help.
Beginning any new project, it's wise to ask your artist some questions, so as to identify and remove any creative blocks before the project gets going. Ask them again when the work gets difficult or gets stuck.
1) List any resentments or anger you have in connection with this project.On questions one through three, don't worry about how petty or irrational or insignificant the fears and resentments sound to you. They're all big deals to your artist.
2) List any and all fears about the projected piece of work and/or anyone connected to it.
3) Ask yourself if that is all. Have you left out any tiny bits of fear or anger?
4) Ask yourself what you stand to gain by not doing this piece of work.
5) Make a deal. The deal is, "Okay, Creative Force, you take care of the quality, I'll take care of the quantity." Sign it and post it.
Don't forget to go on a date with your artist sometime this week and do your morning pages every day!