For those of you near me, you know that I have had scant resources or energy this past decade to engage in creative endeavors. And now that I do, I find my need to create engulfs me like my need for food or sleep. Some days, *more* than my need for food or sleep.
But to begin again — to re-begin — is frightening. And I can only attribute my ability to do so to the gentle care of a dear friend who watched me working to be brave enough to be clumsy and flawed, and showed back to me that – really – there was something kinda beautiful in that. In being clumsy and flawed.
The truth is, every creative endeavor is a re-beginning. The process is – by it’s nature – immersive and obsessive, and full of brilliant and ridiculous mistakes. It’s full of vague and inspired ideas that, once you get there, don’t work at all… but may then later emerge in a body and form the idea was *supposed* to have. And even the stupidest mistakes, in most cases, lead to some truly fucking brilliant solutions. But these days, there are so few shared creative spaces, so most of the brilliant and enervating moments are lived alone. And all we see on the Internets are the exquisitely executed, perfectly photographed products. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
I don’t want perfect. Not here.
I started this to keep myself honest to where I am — because if I can’t stay brave enough to wake clumsy and flawed, day after day, then I lose my ability – and I suppose my inspiration – to do this.
It’s been my hope, too, that other creative mates out there – met or unmet – will post more of their process as well: the annoying minutiae of the work; playlists of what they were listening to while making such-and-such piece; the Grand Ideas that just didn’t work; and more importantly, references to the people in their world that they talk to who help give shape and form and direction to their work.