Zigzags

I wrote yesterday about how we don’t need more technology to create—we just need to make the choice. And that choice can change our posture in how we approach the world.

The artist’s process, despite what you might read, isn’t about the mystical power of inspiration. There is no muse that chooses us. There is no such thing as writer’s block—it’s just the gap between wanting to have written and wanting to write. And it certainly has nothing to do with talent.

Art is about the work.

And the work in the creative sphere is messy. It’s chaotic. Rarely do you understand at first what it is you’re doing.

Lisen to any professional comedian and they’ll tell you how many years it took to get a good five minutes. Just five minutes. Andy Kaufman remained misunderstood by many throughout his career because he was following a thread that looked stupid from the outside—and it turned out to be the whole bit. Early on, few people understood why Steve Martin was combining juggling, banjo playing, and a magician’s persona, and so he struggled for a long time before he broke through.

I have never met or read about an artist who walked a straight line.

In fact, it is their ability to follow the winding roads—even when they lead to dead ends, forcing them to turn around and start again—that helps them find their own way.

It’s usually not romantic. It’s deciding to stick with a draft after three weeks. It’s showing up and contributing to a project every day for six months. It’s nonprofit leaders doing the parts no one else wants to do. It’s a professional chef showing up to make the customers’ favorites again—even when they don’t feel like it.

The winding road isn’t something artists have—it’s something you walk. The choice from yesterday’s post is the choice to keep walking when the road bends.