Of Effort and Magic

Great writers will often type out great works, just to feel what well-structured language feels like as it comes out onto the page.

Painters learn by copying the great works with an exactness that forces them to the same solutions and techniques that the masters used.

In school, we learn science by repeating experiments that were once groundbreaking and demonstrative of the Universe’s foundational laws.

Great athletes review film, generals study battles from the past, and musicians must learn the songs of others before they can compose their own.

In learning and perfecting any skill, there is a constant balance between the fresh energy of the beginner and the studied discipline of the master. It is the interplay between these poles that generates true excellence. Neither the undisciplined talent nor the technically skilled but stagnant veteran creates works that resonate and endure over large spans of time.

It is the serendipitous convergence of tremendous effort and spontaneous inspiration that fixates and mirrors the vicissitudes of the human spirit. Western culture tends to revere the spontaneous more than the cultivated, while in the East this value is flipped.

In spending our novice years in a long apprenticeship, prostrating ourselves before and imitating the great masters, we create the substrate in which our own coherent style and the accompanying techniques may arise.

Piccaso, both a great master in his middle and old age, as well as a prodigy in his youth, articulated this notion eloquently.

“It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”

Not everyone is destined to paint like a child. But every great artist and craftsman have some novel contribution for the greater culture, and the pursuit, as well as the honing of that gift, is of great importance no matter how meager its impact may appear to be.

 

 

The Mind of a Master

As children, our creativity was bounded only by the duration and depth of our attention at any given moment.

As adults, our creativity is bounded not only by the quality of attention but also our specific evaluation of the worth and personal enjoyment interaction with a system might generate.

To put it simply, adults achieve consistent episodes of childlike creativity in those undertakings which they believe to be appropriate for their competencies, and most of all worthy of extended commitment of time. 

The most helpful deficiency of the immature brain is its inability to schedule and manage time. This removes a distractor and allows for profound engagement with systems that would not even be noticed by someone who had a conception of places to be and important things to accomplish.

A child can spend several hours working on chalk drawings because every child has no reason to doubt their own competence in the art, and the worth of their works. They approach the sidewalk with the same confidence and excitement as the professional adult sculptor goes to the clay.  In this way, the minds of the novice child and the adult master are the same.

In attempting to cultivate states of intense creativity, we must first believe in the value of whatever we might make. Otherwise, hours spent at the canvas will seem a waste of time, and thus those hours will not be spent, making mastery impossible.