The Creative Act: A Way of Being

Chapter 62 reminds readers to find the habits, routines, and procedures that work best for their creative output. Artists develop rituals that have a positive effect on their work. Rubin recommends finding their own personally tailored rituals. Although experimenting with others’ ideas can influence and provide guidance, the choice of rituals is ultimately up to the artist.

Chapter 63 explains the ways that artists learn mysteriously and in bursts. Daily practice stays consistent, but the rate of learning ebbs and flows. Often for artists, learning occurs in variable rates of proficiency. The overnight effect—wherein artists train hard one day with seemingly little to no progress sleep through the night, and wake up the next morning with greater ability—is frequent amongst artists. Rubin uses the analogy of weightlifting: When strength training, “the practice breaks down muscle and recovery builds it back stronger than before. The passive element of practice is as important as the active one” (328). Rubin attributes this phenomenon of creative learning to the universe. Ideas absorb energy and build up, waiting for the artist to harness them. The capacity to wield these ideas becomes greater with regular practice connecting to The Source. In turn, the artist grows and develops their abilities to express the transmissions from the universe in clearer forms. When artists trust and participate in this process, they’re creative learning grows every day.

Chapter 64 refines the ideas from the previous chapter. Art requires that artists decode the signals from an unintelligible Source. Artists interpret these obscure messages and produce art in response. However, this is not just a direct communication. Instead, this act of translation is a “fluid relationship” that can be accessed with more practice. The discipline in honing one’s craft enhances this dialogue with The Source. When facing failure or obstacles, “it’s helpful to remember that the challenge is not that you can’t do it, but that you haven’t done it yet” (332). Alternatively, even the most technically skilled artists can be overshadowed by amateurs who express emotion in a better way. Learning theory can enhance one’s practice if the artist uses the knowledge in the appropriate way.

Chapter 65 addresses how artists can judge their completed works with less bias. Typically, when artist works on a specific piece for a long time, they lose their ability to judge it objectively. This is where a trusted friend, mentor, or fresh pair of eyes can help. Moreover, artists can train themselves to judge their work by stepping back from the piece for a while and letting it rest. When they come back, they can more accurately judge its flaws and merits. This is the “practice of cleaning the slate” (336). Avoid looking at the work too often, and discard notions of expected revisions. Each element of a completed work can dramatically change the product, so attention to detail with a clear mind is key in the revision process. In addition to taking time away, Rubin recommends meditation as a means of cleaning the slate.

Chapter 66 addresses how altering the perception of art can change its meaning. Rubin gives the example of a “flower in a meadow” (339). Putting that flower at the end of a rifle or on a gravestone drastically alters the meaning of the image. Rubin suggests that artists play around with the contexts and intentional perceptions of their work. Some of this is out of the artist’s control. At times, location, timing, available materials, cultural trends, and current events exist outside of the artist’s control and they can all change how an artwork is viewed. Rubin prescribes contradictory contexts to help artists view their work from different perspectives. Some of his ideas include soft-loud, close-far, rough-smooth, and same-different (341). Overall, new contexts can create works with more powerful emotional resonances to artists and audiences than previously realized.

Chapter 67 states that the energy that drives artists to complete a work is not just enthusiasm; it emerges from the force of creation in the world—love. The force of love induces an energetic and exhilarating feeling within the artist that compels them to keep creating at each phase. Occasionally, the energy exists but can’t be felt, so the work feels tedious. Rubin comforts artists by telling them that the energy of love in the act of creation is always present. Still, artists should pay attention to these feelings of motivation. Prolonged periods of tedium could mean that the artist needs to alter their perspective, clean the slate, or rejuvenate through other projects and activities.

Chapter 68 describes art as a constant cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Artists who are consumed by art possess no outside perspective and limit the possibility for creation of new ideas and expressions. The goal of the artist is greatness and advancement. Withholding art only limits the artist’s potential: “Sharing art is the price of making it. Exposing your vulnerability is the fee” (350). Through sharing, the process of regeneration activates and provides seeds for new creations. Only when a project emerges into the world can new ideas begin to flourish.

Chapter 69 juxtaposes two statements that say, “making art is a serious matter” and “making art is pure play” (353). Artists create with serious discipline, attention to detail, and respect for the craft while also engaging in this work with childlike wonder and enthusiasm. The relaxed state of play enhances the artist’s ability to express themselves freely: “Take art seriously without going about it in a serious way” (354). Each day requires that the artist shows up, builds, deconstructs, experiments, and refines. Even the tedious moments of artistic creation can be made into play by changing the contexts or the boundaries of production. Once, when in the studio with an artist, Rubin experimented with a song by recording it acoustically, then overdubbing everything, and then muting everything but single elements. This back-and-forth play made the repetition of recording more fruitful. As such, preserving the beginner’s fascination with learning and joy in the process allows artists to fall in love with their work repeatedly.