Saturday, October 13, 2007
Modern Art Pissing Match
I left a comment on the Dangerous Intersection blog a few days ago and suddenly found myself in a pissing match. I didn't ask to be in a pissing match, but that's where I was.
Erich Vieth posted a picture of a couple of modern art paintings and said that he "wasn't tempted to buy either of these paintings," which were going for $1,300 and $3,200. He indicated that he didn't "get" modern art, which is something I've heard a lot from non-artists. It's as if they feel they don't have the expertise to judge art based on how they react to it. I agreed with Erich, saying that I wouldn't buy the paintings either, and mentioned that our experience of art is subjective - trying to let him know that he could trust his own instincts when it came to paintings.
For opening my mouth, I was promptly challenged by a commenter with the screen name gatomjp to explain myself in detail and to show some of my own work. I felt that I was being placed in a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. If I didn't link up to my work, I'd be considered chicken. If I did, I'd be placing my art in line for potential potshots, which may or may not be based on the fact that I said something that was disagreeable to gatomjp. I don't have much up in the way of art on my blog, but I did link to my artist trading cards. Gatomjp also asked me to define why, precisely, I didn't like the two paintings presented in the blog.
My reply garnered this response from gatomjp: "Sorry, Mary that's not good enough." I was expected to give an essay on the technical aspects of why I didn't like the paintings. It wasn't good enough that I simply didn't care for them. Gatomjp also leapt to the assumption that I didn't like abstract art at all. He/she did indicate liking my artist trading cards, which was a surprise considering the tone of the rest of his/her comments. I was beginning to think that maybe gatomjp was the artist of the pictured paintings, or perhaps an artist who produced paintings like those pictured. I was stumped by the vehemence at which this person was going after me and thought that if I'd been at a party and someone jumped on me like this, I'd find a way to distance myself right quick. It's not that I mind be asked to give a more in-depth explanation for my opinions, but a little honey (i.e. nicely asking), rather than vinegar (i.e. making assumptions that aren't true) goes a long way in getting my cooperation.
I obliged anyway, giving a long, detailed comment about how a painting can be technically perfect, but if it doesn't speak to my emotions, it will have missed its mark. I used music as my alternate example, because non-musicians have no problem determining what sort of music they enjoy.
As I was thinking further about this issue, and waiting to see how gatomjp would respond to my long comment, I realized that there was more that I had to say about technical vs. emotional aspects in creative works, this time in the subject of literature. When I write short stories, I'm always concerned with the technical aspects of telling a story. How do I turn this phrase? What's my point of view? Am I using cliches? How's my spelling and grammar? Did I break that paragraph at the right time? Do I have any plot holes?
When I read a finished story to my writers group, I'm hoping they will catch problems with the technical aspects of the story. What I've discovered is that this rarely occurs. What happens instead is that the other writers start talking about the content of my story. What happens to that character? Hey, I've had that experience. What's synesthesia? (Or some other obscure topic I've brought up.) After witnessing this several times, I realized that the technical aspects of my storytelling were not jumping to the fore, screaming for attention. They are at least adequate in allowing the story to take center stage. (There's always room for improvement, though.)
This is how it should be with art or music or literature or any other creative endeavor. The technical aspects should remain invisible. The work should appear as though created by magic. Once you've hooked people, gotten them emotionally entangled, they may be curious about how you made it happen. Then you can explain the technique behind the work. If all people notice is the technique, then you haven't done your job as an artist. You haven't truly connected.
Erich Vieth posted a picture of a couple of modern art paintings and said that he "wasn't tempted to buy either of these paintings," which were going for $1,300 and $3,200. He indicated that he didn't "get" modern art, which is something I've heard a lot from non-artists. It's as if they feel they don't have the expertise to judge art based on how they react to it. I agreed with Erich, saying that I wouldn't buy the paintings either, and mentioned that our experience of art is subjective - trying to let him know that he could trust his own instincts when it came to paintings.
For opening my mouth, I was promptly challenged by a commenter with the screen name gatomjp to explain myself in detail and to show some of my own work. I felt that I was being placed in a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. If I didn't link up to my work, I'd be considered chicken. If I did, I'd be placing my art in line for potential potshots, which may or may not be based on the fact that I said something that was disagreeable to gatomjp. I don't have much up in the way of art on my blog, but I did link to my artist trading cards. Gatomjp also asked me to define why, precisely, I didn't like the two paintings presented in the blog.
My reply garnered this response from gatomjp: "Sorry, Mary that's not good enough." I was expected to give an essay on the technical aspects of why I didn't like the paintings. It wasn't good enough that I simply didn't care for them. Gatomjp also leapt to the assumption that I didn't like abstract art at all. He/she did indicate liking my artist trading cards, which was a surprise considering the tone of the rest of his/her comments. I was beginning to think that maybe gatomjp was the artist of the pictured paintings, or perhaps an artist who produced paintings like those pictured. I was stumped by the vehemence at which this person was going after me and thought that if I'd been at a party and someone jumped on me like this, I'd find a way to distance myself right quick. It's not that I mind be asked to give a more in-depth explanation for my opinions, but a little honey (i.e. nicely asking), rather than vinegar (i.e. making assumptions that aren't true) goes a long way in getting my cooperation.
I obliged anyway, giving a long, detailed comment about how a painting can be technically perfect, but if it doesn't speak to my emotions, it will have missed its mark. I used music as my alternate example, because non-musicians have no problem determining what sort of music they enjoy.
As I was thinking further about this issue, and waiting to see how gatomjp would respond to my long comment, I realized that there was more that I had to say about technical vs. emotional aspects in creative works, this time in the subject of literature. When I write short stories, I'm always concerned with the technical aspects of telling a story. How do I turn this phrase? What's my point of view? Am I using cliches? How's my spelling and grammar? Did I break that paragraph at the right time? Do I have any plot holes?
When I read a finished story to my writers group, I'm hoping they will catch problems with the technical aspects of the story. What I've discovered is that this rarely occurs. What happens instead is that the other writers start talking about the content of my story. What happens to that character? Hey, I've had that experience. What's synesthesia? (Or some other obscure topic I've brought up.) After witnessing this several times, I realized that the technical aspects of my storytelling were not jumping to the fore, screaming for attention. They are at least adequate in allowing the story to take center stage. (There's always room for improvement, though.)
This is how it should be with art or music or literature or any other creative endeavor. The technical aspects should remain invisible. The work should appear as though created by magic. Once you've hooked people, gotten them emotionally entangled, they may be curious about how you made it happen. Then you can explain the technique behind the work. If all people notice is the technique, then you haven't done your job as an artist. You haven't truly connected.
Labels: art, artist trading cards, creativity, dangerous intersection, erich vieth, music, pissing match, short story, technique, writing
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Age and Accomplisment
I don't know. Maybe I'm just sensitive because I'm going to reach a milestone age tomorrow, but I'm sick to death of headlines like the one on the current Special Issue of Smithsonian magazine. (Fall 2007) It is . . .
37 Under 36: America's Young Innovators in the Arts and Sciences
I don't know about you, but the vaunting of the spectacular achievements of our youth make me feel completely inadequate. It always has, even when I was considered young, mostly because the tone is that if you haven't made it by a particular youthful age, the implication is that you'll never make it. As if all of us must achieve something noteworthy enough to make it into a magazine. As if those of us who don't simply aren't worth breathing the air on this earth. I do not begrudge people their accomplishments, au contraire! Amen and hallelujah to them for what they've done. And, amen and hallelujah to those who plug away at tasks that aren't deemed noteworthy by society, but that are crucial nonetheless. (You go, Mike Rowe!) But, quit attaching an age to the accomplishment, as though somehow we're all supposed to be so impressed by the wunderkind, merely because of the age, without factoring in all of the support the kid has had in getting to where he's gotten.
Because we can't seem to help ourselves on the whole age vs. achievement issue, I'd like to point out my favorite article on the subject, published by Wired Magazine in July 2006. (Yes, I still have the print version.) It's called "What Kind of Genius Are You?" and looks at the research of David Galenson, who studied age and achievement and found that those who blossomed early tended to peak early, but that there were plenty of genius types who didn't hit their creative strides until much later in life. There's still hope for those of us over 36.
P.S. I forgot a link that came through The Rake's Secrets of the Day email today. Apparently, I'm not to only one interested in the accomplishments of older folks. Lizz Winstead, who co-created The Daily Show, is looking for guys over 40 who've always wanted to be in a rock band, but life got in their way, for a reality show called "Ready 2 Rock." Here's a link to a video of Winstead describing the project.
37 Under 36: America's Young Innovators in the Arts and Sciences
I don't know about you, but the vaunting of the spectacular achievements of our youth make me feel completely inadequate. It always has, even when I was considered young, mostly because the tone is that if you haven't made it by a particular youthful age, the implication is that you'll never make it. As if all of us must achieve something noteworthy enough to make it into a magazine. As if those of us who don't simply aren't worth breathing the air on this earth. I do not begrudge people their accomplishments, au contraire! Amen and hallelujah to them for what they've done. And, amen and hallelujah to those who plug away at tasks that aren't deemed noteworthy by society, but that are crucial nonetheless. (You go, Mike Rowe!) But, quit attaching an age to the accomplishment, as though somehow we're all supposed to be so impressed by the wunderkind, merely because of the age, without factoring in all of the support the kid has had in getting to where he's gotten.
Because we can't seem to help ourselves on the whole age vs. achievement issue, I'd like to point out my favorite article on the subject, published by Wired Magazine in July 2006. (Yes, I still have the print version.) It's called "What Kind of Genius Are You?" and looks at the research of David Galenson, who studied age and achievement and found that those who blossomed early tended to peak early, but that there were plenty of genius types who didn't hit their creative strides until much later in life. There's still hope for those of us over 36.
P.S. I forgot a link that came through The Rake's Secrets of the Day email today. Apparently, I'm not to only one interested in the accomplishments of older folks. Lizz Winstead, who co-created The Daily Show, is looking for guys over 40 who've always wanted to be in a rock band, but life got in their way, for a reality show called "Ready 2 Rock." Here's a link to a video of Winstead describing the project.
Labels: accomplishment, age, creativity, daily show, david galenson, genius, lizz winstead, mike rowe, rock, smithsonian, the rake, wired magazine
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
If You Teach a Man to Fish . . .
Ever since studying South Africa in college, I've kept an ear half-cocked toward the doings of the country and the wider African continent. I've posted before about most of society's "Poor Africa" mentality, and how there's energy and creativity within the people of the continent who can position it toward a better economy and life circumstances for its citizens. Today, through reddit, I found a very thoughtful post that iterates what I've been thinking about the situation. The post is by Jennifer Brea at American.com and is called "Africans to Bono: 'For God's sake, please stop!"
Sometimes we forget to teach people how to fish . . . .
Sometimes we forget to teach people how to fish . . . .
Labels: africa, bono, creativity, fish
Monday, June 25, 2007
That's Soooo 2000
I've got my new issue of Wired magazine, working my way through it cover-to-cover. That doesn't mean I'm necessarily reading every little thing, but I like to work front-to-back so I don't miss something. The cover image/article is of Transformers - as in the "more than meets the eye" type. I didn't get into these as a kid, so haven't read the article yet. My son went right to it, though - first thing read. I was more interested in the the mapping article "The Whole Earth, Cataloged: How Google Maps is changing the way we see the world" by Evan Ratliff and "Dispatches From the Hyperlocal Future" by Bruce Sterling.
Wired is relentlessly future-seeking, which makes me breathless and frustrated. Can't keep up! Can't . . . keeeeeep. . . up! Part of what makes me feel this way is how Wired's articles talk about what happened a mere seven years ago as if it was ancient history. For example, did you know that the Captcha (those squiggly letters/numbers that you have to type in periodically when doing web work in order to foil spambots) was invented by Luis von Ahn in 2000? Luis von Ahn has moved on to figuring out how to teach computers how to recognize beauty. (See the article "The Human Advantage" by Clive Thompson.) Seems like the Captcha has been around a while, but seven years is nothing in human history. Of course, this notion of three, five, seven years ago being ancient history is not Wired's fault. It's the nature of technology that is warping our sense of time. Wired simply reflects that. (What does irritate me about Wired is its habit of amplifying how incredibly backwards people are if they don't keep up or don't know what every abbreviation means. Where is their online glossary when you need one?)
What astounds me is that human creativity in general has ramped up to that same dizzying speed as technology. Think about how many books are produced per year now as opposed to in the 1800s. The classics from the 1800s are classics because they didn't have as much competition. We have thousands of Ansel Adams, what with digital photography, millions of publishers with blogging (although a good share of those aren't worth the 0's and 1's they're written with), and how many gazillions of movie producers with YouTube. There is simply no way the human mind - a single human mind - can track everything. We simply have to do our best and forget the rest.
Wired is relentlessly future-seeking, which makes me breathless and frustrated. Can't keep up! Can't . . . keeeeeep. . . up! Part of what makes me feel this way is how Wired's articles talk about what happened a mere seven years ago as if it was ancient history. For example, did you know that the Captcha (those squiggly letters/numbers that you have to type in periodically when doing web work in order to foil spambots) was invented by Luis von Ahn in 2000? Luis von Ahn has moved on to figuring out how to teach computers how to recognize beauty. (See the article "The Human Advantage" by Clive Thompson.) Seems like the Captcha has been around a while, but seven years is nothing in human history. Of course, this notion of three, five, seven years ago being ancient history is not Wired's fault. It's the nature of technology that is warping our sense of time. Wired simply reflects that. (What does irritate me about Wired is its habit of amplifying how incredibly backwards people are if they don't keep up or don't know what every abbreviation means. Where is their online glossary when you need one?)
What astounds me is that human creativity in general has ramped up to that same dizzying speed as technology. Think about how many books are produced per year now as opposed to in the 1800s. The classics from the 1800s are classics because they didn't have as much competition. We have thousands of Ansel Adams, what with digital photography, millions of publishers with blogging (although a good share of those aren't worth the 0's and 1's they're written with), and how many gazillions of movie producers with YouTube. There is simply no way the human mind - a single human mind - can track everything. We simply have to do our best and forget the rest.
Labels: ansel adams, books, captchas, creativity, frustration, google, history, luis von ahn, maps, photography, technology, time, wired magazine, youtube
Friday, June 22, 2007
A Couple of Quotes
A couple of quotations from The Quotations Page:
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources. - Albert Einstein (1879-1955)
So you see, imagination needs moodling - long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering. - Brenda Ueland
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources. - Albert Einstein (1879-1955)
So you see, imagination needs moodling - long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling and puttering. - Brenda Ueland
Labels: albert einstein, brenda ueland, creativity, imagination, quotations
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Major Tom
Last night, we were watching TV (the movie "Dodgeball," if you must know), and my husband was on the computer. I'm not sure what led to this, but he started singing, "Four . . . three . . . two . . . one," and then something else that I didn't quite catch, but I it pushed a memory button for me and I said, "What was that? Sing it again." The hubby did one better - he pulled the song up on YouTube. He was singing "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling. I loved this song as a young adult, but if you had put a gun to my head and said, "Name the singer," I would never have come up with Peter Schilling in a million years. The video was familiar, though.
Our kids wondered about this song and the Major Tom story. For those who don't know, Major Tom was a character in at least two songs by David Bowie - "Space Oddity" and "Ashes to Ashes". Major Tom is an astronaut who leaves his space craft and floats into space. Listeners are left to wonder what happens to him and what has to be going through his mind as he realizes he's a goner. (I'm admittedly not an expert on Bowie's music, so if Major Tom showed up in any of his other songs, let me know.)
In my opinion, Peter Schilling's Major Tom song is more melodic than Bowie's songs, although Bowie's leave me feeling infinitely more unsettled, which I think was the point. If Schilling had written his song in today's copyright climate, Bowie's music industry representatives would have slapped him with a cease-and-desist order or sued him. Thankfully, Bowie didn't get his undies in a twist and one of his characters led to further creative exploration. Does anyone know whether Major Tom has shown up in anyone else's creative work?
The only other song I can think of with this strange astronaut imagery is Peter Mayer's "Astronaut Dreams." (Sorry, I can't find a recording of this for you to listen to online.)
Our kids wondered about this song and the Major Tom story. For those who don't know, Major Tom was a character in at least two songs by David Bowie - "Space Oddity" and "Ashes to Ashes". Major Tom is an astronaut who leaves his space craft and floats into space. Listeners are left to wonder what happens to him and what has to be going through his mind as he realizes he's a goner. (I'm admittedly not an expert on Bowie's music, so if Major Tom showed up in any of his other songs, let me know.)
In my opinion, Peter Schilling's Major Tom song is more melodic than Bowie's songs, although Bowie's leave me feeling infinitely more unsettled, which I think was the point. If Schilling had written his song in today's copyright climate, Bowie's music industry representatives would have slapped him with a cease-and-desist order or sued him. Thankfully, Bowie didn't get his undies in a twist and one of his characters led to further creative exploration. Does anyone know whether Major Tom has shown up in anyone else's creative work?
The only other song I can think of with this strange astronaut imagery is Peter Mayer's "Astronaut Dreams." (Sorry, I can't find a recording of this for you to listen to online.)
Labels: astronaut, computer, copyright, creativity, david bowie, family, husband, major tom, music, peter mayer, peter schilling, songs, youtube
Friday, April 20, 2007
Inspiration
Something dawned on me recently that quite surprised me. Before I get to that, I'd like to talk about inspiration. As an artist and writer, I take inspiration from many, many things. Science, the woo-woo mysteries of life, birds, flowers, children, historical events, small human behaviors, technology, the interesting juxtaposition of words and the sounds of words, and, of course, the creations of others, be they books, art, movies and music. I'm never sure how all of these things will come together, or what the result will be. My latest realization came to me while listening to a U2 CD. As I was listening, the music translated into images in my mind. This has happened before with U2 music. It has also happened with the music of Duran Duran and Ultravox. The result is that I'm inspired to create visual art with the songs of U2 et. al. The surprise about this is that I've been listening to the music of Dave Matthews Band a lot these past couple of years and it makes me want to write stories. It wasn't until I re-listened to U2 that I saw the difference. U2's music doesn't have the story-writing effect on me, not in the least. U2 inspires visual art, DMB inspires literary art. I don't know why this is, but there it is.
So, now, what inspires you to fits of creativity? Feel free to be more specific than I was. (Science, sheesh! That about covers everything, doesn't it?)
So, now, what inspires you to fits of creativity? Feel free to be more specific than I was. (Science, sheesh! That about covers everything, doesn't it?)
Labels: album art, children, creativity, dave matthews band, duran duran, inspiration, music, rocket science, technology, u2, ultravox, writing
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tag - You're It!
After Pi left a comment on my blog, I cruised on over to his blog to check it out. Interesting commentary there. I found a post on tagging, which got me to thinking about my philosophy of tagging. When I tag my blog posts, I do it first for myself. Tagging the most obvious subject of a post is easy. It's the secondary and successively smaller topics that I mention that I'm never quite sure of. Working in a museum doesn't make this any easier. In fact, it makes it harder because when you look at an artifact or document, you automatically start cross-referencing it with the other subjects people might be looking for. An example: You have a photo of a train next to a depot. Do you file it under train, or depot? What about all those people in the picture? How about that water tower or bridge in the background? See? It gets complicated. Filing copies of the same photo under all of those topics gets to be excessive. We only have so much space. We really can't be taking it all up with 50 copies of the same photo. Same as with tagging. Once I tag the obvious topic, I tag the other sorts of things that I'm interested in following - husband, children, writing, creativity, blah, blah, blah. The one thing I won't do is tag for a topic that is not included in the post. Believe it or not, some bloggers do this in order to get attention for their sites.
As an aside: Did you know that tagging developed from metatags? (I think I learned this on Pi's website.) Metatags are built into the hidden part of website code and they allow search engines to find your website by topic. Good metatags are critical for raising your ranking on search engines, which is why there are people and companies that'll play fast and loose with both metatags and tags.
Another aside: Neil Gaiman is known for his unusual tags. Check out his tag cloud. (Tag clouds are just the coolest thing ever!)
As an aside: Did you know that tagging developed from metatags? (I think I learned this on Pi's website.) Metatags are built into the hidden part of website code and they allow search engines to find your website by topic. Good metatags are critical for raising your ranking on search engines, which is why there are people and companies that'll play fast and loose with both metatags and tags.
Another aside: Neil Gaiman is known for his unusual tags. Check out his tag cloud. (Tag clouds are just the coolest thing ever!)
Labels: blog, children, creativity, husband, metatags, museum, neil gaiman, photos, pi, tag clouds, tagging, train, website, writing
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Keeping Occupied
My boys got a little bored with the rain this weekend and decided on an interesting project to keep them occupied.
The eldest painted the youngest. The armor, made entirely of cardboard by the eldest, was a previous project. The whole arrangement works well in that the eldest likes to design costumes and the youngest likes to dress up in them.
P.S. In case you hadn't noticed, I finally figured out how to post pictures. I'm thrilled no end.
The eldest painted the youngest. The armor, made entirely of cardboard by the eldest, was a previous project. The whole arrangement works well in that the eldest likes to design costumes and the youngest likes to dress up in them.
P.S. In case you hadn't noticed, I finally figured out how to post pictures. I'm thrilled no end.
Labels: armor, artistic endeavors, boredom, costumes, creativity, pictures, rain, sons
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Letters to a Young Artist
I was at the library the other day and replenished my reading supply. The book I'm reading now is Julia Cameron's Letters to a Young Artist: Building a Life in Art. Ever since Rainer Maria Rilke wrote his Letters to a Young Poet, there's been an explosion of Letters to a Young So-and-So (insert what you like to replace So-and-So). Letters to a Young Lawyer, Letters to a Young Catholic, Letters to a Young Mathematician, Letters to a Young Contrarian. Google "Letters to a Young" and you'll see what I mean. In fact, there's even another Letters to a Young Artist, this one written by Anna Deavere Smith.
I've never read Letters to a Young Poet as I've never considered myself a poet. I attempted Letters to a Young Contrarian by Christopher Hitchens, as I am something of a contrarian (Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary), but can't recall whether I got through it. I am flying through Letters to a Young Artist, however. Julia's writing is a breeze, so conversational and easy. If you've read her book The Artist's Way, the information she imparts in Letters to a Young Artist will be familiar, however the change in format is a pleasure. (Not that there was anything wrong with The Artist's Way - I loved the book . . . it sits on my shelf . . . but the difference between the two books might make them appealing to different audiences.) It's definitely inspirational and worth a read if you've reached a creative slump.
I've never read Letters to a Young Poet as I've never considered myself a poet. I attempted Letters to a Young Contrarian by Christopher Hitchens, as I am something of a contrarian (Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary), but can't recall whether I got through it. I am flying through Letters to a Young Artist, however. Julia's writing is a breeze, so conversational and easy. If you've read her book The Artist's Way, the information she imparts in Letters to a Young Artist will be familiar, however the change in format is a pleasure. (Not that there was anything wrong with The Artist's Way - I loved the book . . . it sits on my shelf . . . but the difference between the two books might make them appealing to different audiences.) It's definitely inspirational and worth a read if you've reached a creative slump.
Labels: anna deavere smith, artist, books, christopher hitchens, contrary, creativity, julia cameron, library, poet, rainer maria rilke, reading
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Placed Expectations
When you have children, you try your darndest not to screw them up too badly in raising them. (For example, you'd like them not to leave cracker crumbs all over the computer keyboard, which is the current state of my keyboard, thank you very much.) I think one of the ways we subconsciously mess with our kids is by pigeon-holing them, placing expectations on them based on what they show us. Our oldest son showed a particular artistic genius early on, creating realistic drawings replete with foreshortening and correct perspective when he was five or six years old. He has so consistently shown this ability that he's been pegged as an artist and, of course, we brag about it. Our daughter is gifted with money managing abilities that would put most adults to shame. She's sensible and responsible, not only with money, but with many other things. Our youngest son is energetic and physical and has a sparkling personality that acts as a magnet and attracts people to him. He started talking when he was seven months old and has a magnificient gift of the gab. Innocently enough, and by following their original leads, we've come to expect these things of our children. We don't want to lock them into these molds, but it has happened without our quite realizing it. When I attended my youngest son's conferences and his art teacher said that he was really creative, I was pleased as punch, and thought, why, of course he is, but, honestly, I hadn't really attributed artistic creativity to him as much as I had to his older brother. This is silly. Traits can be mixed and matched between children and our kids can share qualities such as creativity. Sharing is good. I have noticed that all are good writers and interested in science and history. All are creative, but each expresses it differently.
This thought process makes me wonder if siblings from other families that appear to be diametrically opposed to each other in interests and personalities were shunted along these lines by the parents' placed expectations. It makes me want to try harder not to do this.
This thought process makes me wonder if siblings from other families that appear to be diametrically opposed to each other in interests and personalities were shunted along these lines by the parents' placed expectations. It makes me want to try harder not to do this.
Labels: artist, children, creativity, daughter, expectations, money, parents, personality traits, son
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Oblique Strategies
I was reading the new Wired Magazine, which has an article devoted to our snack culture (serve our media up in little bits, along with our food, please), and ran across a mention of a deck of cards created by musician/artist Brian Eno. The deck, which Brian designed with friend Peter Schmidt, is called Oblique Strategies. As artists, Brian and Peter discovered that they had strategies for overcoming obstacles encountered in their work. As they developed these strategies, they wrote them as aphorisms and eventually bundled them together as a set of cards. The first edition was released in 1975, with two other editions following within the next few years. A fourth set was created in 1996 as a private project for the Peter Norton family. (Please don't ask me who Peter Norton is.) Even though the original decks were printed in limited quantities and are hard to come by, the aphorisms are listed on the web on the site devoted exclusively to them, as well as on several other sites. One site acts as a random generator, serving up oblique strategies as you need them.
For the list of aphorisms in each deck (they changed a bit over time), see the links below:
1st edition
2nd edition
3rd edition
4th edition
The Oblique Strategies site points people to Brian Eno's official store to purchase a copy of the deck (5th edition).
For the list of aphorisms in each deck (they changed a bit over time), see the links below:
1st edition
2nd edition
3rd edition
4th edition
The Oblique Strategies site points people to Brian Eno's official store to purchase a copy of the deck (5th edition).
Labels: aphorisms, artist, brian eno, cards, creativity, musician, oblique strategies, peter norton, peter schmidt, wired
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Seth Revisited
I haven't commented on Seth Godin for a while, probably because I'm not reading any of his books at the moment (I've read most of them). I do keep up with his blog, though. He had a great post on creativity today - short, sweet and to the point. It is definitely much harder to physically realize the machinations of our minds than it is to slosh those synapses around in the first place.
Labels: blog, books, creativity, seth godin
Thursday, January 04, 2007
The More I Write
Lately, I've noticed a strange little phenomenon with my writing. It seems that the more I write, the more the language gets away from me. I misspell words with more frequency, my grammar slips up, I misinterpret the meanings of words. Recently, a friend used the word meteorologist in an email and I intepreted the word to mean "someone who studies meteors," instead of a weather forecaster. I had a good laugh when it finally dawned on me, but it makes me wonder if other writers go through stages like this in their writing. Writers out there, have you experienced this? How about you other creative types? Any strange plateaus or slides down the mountain of your craft?
Labels: creativity, problem, writing
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Comparisons
I've got it! When I first posted about The Killers, I mentioned that they reminded me of some other band. Well, it's not ONE other band they remind me of, more like a cross between a couple of bands - Echo & the Bunnymen and The Cure. Somewhere on Hot Fuss, during some little phrase, Brandon Flowers also sounds like Freddy Mercury. You probably don't think so, and that's okay. In fact, you'll probably think that The Killers sound like someone else altogether.
Why is comparison of the unknown to something known such a human trait? I'm sure a scientist or psychologist could give me a good answer to this. Like our fear of the unknown, like our desire to figure things out & we have to do the comparison in order to understand new things. Blah, blah, blah.
The one place where comparisons drive me batty is when they are used to critique a creative artist. "That painting of a nude by Gesso McPainterly has the verve of a VanGogh with a splash of Renoir and a twist of O'Keefe." This practice of comparison during critique has become so commonplace that it's starting to smack of lazy writing. Maybe that's because the comparisons are made within the same field, i.e. new musicians are compared to older musicians, new writers are compared to older writers, etc. What if critics started comparing musicians to writers or sculptors or movie directors? What if they started comparing songs to books or paintings? You might end up with something like this: "The new album of Band X has overtones of a Coen brothers' movie, with the raw quirkiness of Christopher Moore's book "Coyote Blue" and the scattered notes of an Alexander Calder mobile."
People would have to think about comparisons like these, but they'd sure make the critiques more interesting.
Why is comparison of the unknown to something known such a human trait? I'm sure a scientist or psychologist could give me a good answer to this. Like our fear of the unknown, like our desire to figure things out & we have to do the comparison in order to understand new things. Blah, blah, blah.
The one place where comparisons drive me batty is when they are used to critique a creative artist. "That painting of a nude by Gesso McPainterly has the verve of a VanGogh with a splash of Renoir and a twist of O'Keefe." This practice of comparison during critique has become so commonplace that it's starting to smack of lazy writing. Maybe that's because the comparisons are made within the same field, i.e. new musicians are compared to older musicians, new writers are compared to older writers, etc. What if critics started comparing musicians to writers or sculptors or movie directors? What if they started comparing songs to books or paintings? You might end up with something like this: "The new album of Band X has overtones of a Coen brothers' movie, with the raw quirkiness of Christopher Moore's book "Coyote Blue" and the scattered notes of an Alexander Calder mobile."
People would have to think about comparisons like these, but they'd sure make the critiques more interesting.
Labels: art, brandon flowers, christopher moore, coen brothers, comparison, creativity, killers, music, writing
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Relevance Over Time
I'm very much enjoying The Killers' CD Hot Fuss that I mentioned a couple of days ago. Listening to it obsessively, I am. I've mentioned that I'm usually late to finding music that gains popularity among the masses. I'm not one of the early hordes that makes something popular in the first place. But, so what? Isn't it in the best interests of creative artists to have audiences that discover them over time? Sure, it's got to be lovely to have the big horde find you and love you into financial security and fame, but I wouldn't want to lose relevance over time. Whether in music, or art, or literature, or whatever creative endeavor, the way to immortality is to have your stuff speak to people long after you've made it.
Labels: art, creativity, fame, immortality, killers, money, music, security, writing
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Manifesto of Creativity
Hugh Macleod (MacLeod?) at gapingvoid has put a call out for mini manifestos (mini-festos), 500 words or fewer expounding on the topic of your choosing (although, he'd like them to change the world, please). I came to gapingvoid through Seth Godin's Unforgivable post.
I had this rather skewed view of manifestos, thinking they were primarily written by disgruntled people, like the Uni-bomber. The dictionary definition is this: "a written statement declaring publicly the intentions, motives, or views of its issuer." That doesn't sound so bad and I like a challenge, so I decided to write a Manifesto of Creativity. I followed it up with a Manifesto of Fame, which I will post tomorrow. Both of my manifestos ended up being 311 words. Strange.
Incidentally, Hugh posted a manifesto on creativity on gapingvoid, which I did not see until after mine was written. Quite a bit of overlap.
Here goes, my Manifesto of Creativity:
I had this rather skewed view of manifestos, thinking they were primarily written by disgruntled people, like the Uni-bomber. The dictionary definition is this: "a written statement declaring publicly the intentions, motives, or views of its issuer." That doesn't sound so bad and I like a challenge, so I decided to write a Manifesto of Creativity. I followed it up with a Manifesto of Fame, which I will post tomorrow. Both of my manifestos ended up being 311 words. Strange.
Incidentally, Hugh posted a manifesto on creativity on gapingvoid, which I did not see until after mine was written. Quite a bit of overlap.
Here goes, my Manifesto of Creativity:
- By virtue of being human, you are innately creative.
- Creativity is not solely the domain of the fine arts. Any activity, be it truck driving, child care, assembly line work, or floor sweeping, can be imbued with creativity, depending upon your approach to it.
- Practice creativity often and with regularity. The process gets easier.
- Fuel your creativity by studying subjects that have nothing to do with your normal creative practice.
- Creativity tests your mettle at some point in the process, whether at the beginning, middle or end. Sweating through the hard part is how you earn your creative chops.
- Fear is an integral part of creativity. Use it, work through it, but don’t allow it to sideline your creativity.
- When you think the muse has abandoned you, moodle. Moodling is a term coined by writer Brenda Ueland. It means to wander about aimlessly with no thought expended on your creative project. Your muse doesn’t like to be overworked. If you force her, she’ll run away as fast as she can. Give her regular coffee breaks and time to recharge.
- Don’t confuse originality with creativity. There are very few truly original ideas. Most creativity comes from filtering outside influences and splicing them together in new ways.
- If you think your creative work is perfection incarnate, it probably isn’t. If you think it is pure schlock, it’s probably pretty good. Put your work away for a while – a long while. When you rediscover it and say, “When did elves sneak in and deposit this jewel?” you can bask in the glow of your success.
- It’s guaranteed. Someone will reject your creative output. Grow rhino hide and keep at it. Your brilliance will eventually be recognized, even if you have to die first. If you want acceptance before that happens, learn to market yourself.
Labels: creativity, fear, gapingvoid, hugh macleod, manifesto, moodle, seth godin, writing
Friday, November 03, 2006
I'd Rather Color Outside the Lines, TYVM
I skipped two days in a row on posting, so now I've got a backlog of thoughts to unleash. Just checked Seth Godin's blog and found a post called Coloring inside the lines. I remember the coloring books of my childhood. I could only go so long coloring inside the lines, making everything nice and neat. It was soooo tedious. I grew to dislike coloring books.
When you're a creative person, and those who are know they are, you want to draw your own lines to color inside.
I was having a conversation with a family member yesterday. We were bemoaning the lack of creativity we've seen in our community and wondering how to change it. I would like to get some non-creatives in a room with a group of creatives. The creatives would sit in a circle in the middle of the room and discuss their ideas. The non-creatives would have to sit around the outside of the circle and just listen to what the creatives discussed and how they discussed it. They wouldn't be allowed to comment - if only out of payback for the many times the non-creatives have shut down the creatives with comments about the bottom line and having to be practical and their notions of group consensus. How do you think the non-creatives would like this? If people were told the set-up ahead of time, do you think the non-creatives would suddenly become creative in hopes of not being shut out of the inner circle?
When you're a creative person, and those who are know they are, you want to draw your own lines to color inside.
I was having a conversation with a family member yesterday. We were bemoaning the lack of creativity we've seen in our community and wondering how to change it. I would like to get some non-creatives in a room with a group of creatives. The creatives would sit in a circle in the middle of the room and discuss their ideas. The non-creatives would have to sit around the outside of the circle and just listen to what the creatives discussed and how they discussed it. They wouldn't be allowed to comment - if only out of payback for the many times the non-creatives have shut down the creatives with comments about the bottom line and having to be practical and their notions of group consensus. How do you think the non-creatives would like this? If people were told the set-up ahead of time, do you think the non-creatives would suddenly become creative in hopes of not being shut out of the inner circle?
Labels: circle, coloring, creativity, seth godin
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Writing + Marketing = A Lot in Common
Writing and marketing have a lot in common. Both depend on the ability to tell a believable story. The difference is that in marketing, a story is used to sell a product or service. In writing, it's the story that's being sold.
Marketer Kathy Sierra has posted common writing tips on her site Creating Passionate Users in order to teach people how to give interesting technical presentations. She includes suggestions for the beginnings of presentations so that listeners will be hooked, instead of lolling and drooling on their skinny conference tables.
My problem has never been beginnings. It's always those blasted middles that do me in.
Marketer Kathy Sierra has posted common writing tips on her site Creating Passionate Users in order to teach people how to give interesting technical presentations. She includes suggestions for the beginnings of presentations so that listeners will be hooked, instead of lolling and drooling on their skinny conference tables.
My problem has never been beginnings. It's always those blasted middles that do me in.
Labels: creativity, kathy sierra, marketing, story, writing
Friday, October 20, 2006
Playing Favorites
I feel compelled to explain the Seth Godin jag I've been on lately. Whenever I'm impressed with a writer, an artist, a band or musician, I tend to snarfle down whatever I can find by said creative person. I've not gone off my rocker or slipped into some obsessive ga-ga world that I can't get out of, although that's the way it might appear to those living outside my cranium. When my aesthetic has been tickled, I binge with delight until the intensity wears off. And, it WILL wear off. The length of the binge depends upon how much material the artiste has created and how varied that material is. In the past, I've binged on Duran Duran, Ultravox, Enya, Neil Gaiman, Carol Bly, Christopher Moore, U2, Peter Mayer, Queen, INXS, Matchbox 20, Conversations with God, self-help books, Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, unsolved mysteries, Alfred Hitchcock short stories, quilting, beading, ABBA, homeopathy, Depeche Mode, Dave Matthews Band, Moby, marketing, feng shui, astrology . . . the list goes on (and I see that I've also binged on topics, as well as artistes). Once the intensity of my interest subsides, I fast, sometimes deliberately avoiding said artiste or topic for a time. It's at this time that my brain seems to be deciding what I'm going to incorporate into my quirky worldview, and what I'm going to discard as pure bunk or clutter. However, the fondness for past favorites never goes away. When I return to one of them, my thrill returns, but not in its original technicolor splash. Instead, a soft pearlescent affection overcomes me.
Seth, too, shall pass.
Seth, too, shall pass.
Labels: astrology, creativity, dmb, duran duran, moby, music, seth godin, ultravox
