Creative Alchemy

The Mysterious Time...you've tried doing something, now try doing nothing

In ‘Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention” Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi talks about the period of incubation being perhaps the most important and essential aspect of creative process. Out of the stillness of this ‘mysterious time’ flow the connections and relationships which when fused, will lead suddenly to the eureka moment, clarity as if out of nothing, when least expected.

Effectively this means that what we perceive as being the work of creativity, the brainstorming, research and experimentation which occur as we explore or invent the problem in hand is merely the start of the process at a conscious level, whilst the real magic happens as the problem goes underground, into our subconscious and becomes creative alchemy.

Quote of the Day...

“In order to create, we draw from our inner well. This inner well, an artistic reservoir, is ideally like a well stocked fish pond... If we don’t give some attention to upkeep, our well is apt to become depleted, stagnant, or blocked... As artists, we must learn to be self nourishing. We must become alert enough to consciously replenish our creative resources as we draw on them — to restock the trout pond, so to speak.”

Julia Cameron

It's who you know

A disgruntled creative commented to me recently that in the creative sector, its “all about who you know”, and not about the talent any more. Is he right?

Here’s my take on it. Unfortunately (or fortunately if you love meeting new people), success in the creative industries can be a lot about who you know. It makes sense in a way, how can anyone know how good the work is unless they get to see it? Commercial success often relies on good relationship building, so it’s best to get in on the ground floor.

It’s also true that the most successful people aren't always the most talented, but they are likely to be the most ambitious, the most adept at networking, and the most able to maintain their self-belief in the face of rejection.

When to play

Watch a child playing and you won’t see judgement, you won’t see cynicism and you definitely won’t see them worrying about what works! What you will see is a complete absorption in process, and an infinite array of possibilities for what might happen, and how, and why, and what new possibilities might be created
along the way.

I remember waking up as a child and feeling the sheer excitement of what was waiting outside for me. There were so many things to do, and see, and destroy and build again, and throw, and feel and eat, and put in my hair and find and lose and set on fire. There was never enough time, and there were never
any self-imposed limits. It was all about playing and trying and being.

Sustainable design: is recycling the way forward?

Last September I spent a week wandering around the various events and exhibitions which make up the fantastic London Design Festival (www.londondesignfestival.com). If you live in or near London I’d recommend you check it out this year (between 15-25 September).

Highlights for me were the various exhibitions around Brick Lane, especially the Bombay Sapphire Glass Prize (amazingly beautiful innovative design), and the talks organised by Own-It (www.own-it.org) around Intellectual property and patent issues for creative businesses and the business of recycling design.

Ideas waiting to happen

Some of you will know about my passion for storytelling and how it influences the way I think about identity and creativity. The way we tell stories about ourselves, to others and in our own heads, can have a dramatic effect on our self-esteem, and our ability to engage creatively with the world around us. The other day I went to a short workshop by a very talented Israeli storyteller, Ellaya Ayal Mor, which prompted a whole new train of thought for me.

Ellaya uses physical exercises to illustrate how we get into character. She shows how changing our physiology can prompt emotional and psychological changes, new words and thoughts, and can be the start of a whole creative process. Who am I when I stand like this, when my shoulders are hunched, and my eyes are downcast? Who am I when my chest is thrust out, my hips wiggling? And who am I when I step back into the most vulnerable position of all, the neutral space that is just me.

So I asked myself: who am I if you take away what I do, the work I believe defines me? What happens when I am not working or producing or creating, when I am just being me?