
I am currently reading a book I borrowed from my friend, entitled Art & Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland. The book discusses the fears and rewards surrounding artmaking and, more specifically, those artists who quit and those who keep going. I picked it up from my friend’s bookshelf in the midst of what one may call a dry spell in my artistic life, hoping it would provide reminders, admonishment, motivation, and maybe even inspiration to push through the drought.
This is not a new concept or experience, even to me. It is arguably an essential experience to the artist. I personally believe that natural human life reflects this recurring process of reaching a desert and continuing to find an oasis. My girlfriend recently re-read The Dip by Seth Godin, an author with colossal marketing credentials that writes about this same overall concept of pushing through the “dip” or dry spell of one’s career, life, relationship, etc. Therefore, this circumstance has made and will continue to make friends with all of us who have goals that are currently un-reached.
This circumstance is quite a familiar chum, wanted or not, to my process of making art and music and finding my way in the world. Many factors contribute the reasons why I have found myself struggling to churn out songs or spend hours practicing a particular instrument, and I am thankful that I am aware of what those factors are. While those factors do contribute to valid reasons, however, they do not contribute to my destination from this point forward. They have served their purpose in self-awareness as an artist and individual but need not be pondered anymore.
What concerns me now is the dip, the desert, the drought, the dry spell. A great realization to have reached is that it matters less what other think or have to say about the dry spell or what they would do should they encounter it. What matters is what I will do now. Contemplation, practicing, listening to more music, listening to more types of music, listening to fewer types of music, seeing a live show, picking up a new instrument, learning some new scales, journaling, reading about other artists, going to the museum, getting more sleep, exercising, meditating, painting, conversing with other artist friends: these are all bona fide options for enhancing your journey through the dip. I have discovered that the only necessary option for me, though, is to actually make art. By this I mean that when I get a musical or artistic idea, I should follow it down the road even if I dislike the idea. Production can be key at times, particularly during the drought.
I’ve decided to go on an artmaking spree. What better way to kill time in the desert than to keep at the very thing at which I’ve been thwarted? Who cares if the songs I create are only 90 seconds long or don’t showcase my knowledge of Latin jazz piano or even resemble what I hear in my head? At this point, the songmaking is about persisting, tweaking, exploring, creating, and pushing through the dip. Before I know it, I’ll have new songs on my music MySpace page, new songwriting methods, new encouragement (art encourages art, in my case), and I’ll be standing in the center of the oasis, creating art again.
This may not be the route for every artist, or even every dry spell for any one artist. Indeed, there have been and will be times that stillness is the best remedy. For right now, I have to do what I want to do. The doing-it-well part will follow.
1 comments:
i performed in a thesis that was derived from her own research and struggle with Art & Fear. It's hard to face. Keep on keeping on.
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