Yesterday, the US stock market index, also known as the Dow Jones Index closed at 11,453. Mind you, this number is an arbitrary number and I understand that when it continues to rise, things are going well, so to speak. When it begins to tumble, the worries set in. Some years ago there was a big celebration among traders and all of those who cared when the number hit 10,000. Since then, it’s dropped below 10,000, eclipsed 11,000, and does what it does … meanders about causing all types of euphoria and despair. So many people hinge their happiness, success, prosperity, etc. on this little number.
However, I don’t want to talk about the stock market. I only use the index as a jumping off point to talk about growth. Investors seem to want their stock prices to increase without bounds, never having periods of quiescence. Some businesses seek endless growth, trying to conquer everyone in their path, looking for total domination. Microsoft, for example.
At times I feel like that about art, especially my own. I feel that I am in a period of quiescence and sometimes it’s uncomfortable. I know, both logically and intuitively, that this plateau is necessary and good, but periodically I try to fight it. I seek that ever upward spiral of growth. But, I realize that it is necessary to stay in this place and cultivate, experiment, familiarize, and understand where we are, as an artist. As a person.
Even with lots of time on my hands, I am finding it difficult to create something new, something better. Therein lies the struggle. I know that I cannot make anything happen. Things just happen when I let them, not when I try to force them. Sometimes a change in scenery is a huge boon to creative production, like my recent trip to Utah. Other times a different approach to the same subject is warranted. Yet, other times, nothing seems to be able to move that creative index in the ‘positive’ direction. Nothing.
Perhaps that is it. I have too much time on my hands to think about art or creativity, rather than letting it happen. At other times, it’s like a lightning strike. Like with this picture. Richard and I were sitting in a small restaurant in St. George, UT, and an older couple walked in. I saw the lady’s hat, her boots, and most strikingly, her long braided hair and my trigger finger started itching. My mind screamed: “That’s Utah!!!”. Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought my camera in with me, so Richard was kind enough to loan me his. I didn’t repeat that mistake of not having my camera again. We must always be prepared for the muse to awaken and give us the creative direction that we need. If only for a moment.
I know that pause, or slight interruption, of growth is certainly not a negative thing. How do you handle your plateaus?
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11 Responses to “Sustained growth”
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Paul,
I think one of the most important pieces of wisdom that Craig Tanner spreads, is his emphasis on productivity. My stance is simply, that I want to be productive, and therefore I produce. Creativity is what others see when we produce and when new things arise out of that. So, basically the question is, how do we make sure that we produce new things and don’t repeat the old?
I think our nature maintains that all by itself. Producing the same things over and again is neither interesting nor fun. It is boring, repetitive work. We do it if we must or if we get well paid for it, but not for our pleasure. Pleasure-seekers that we aree, we constantly look for new, interesting experiences, and when we simply follow that trail, productivity is sustainable, it automatically produces a constant stream of new things, and that again makes others call us creative. Can you imagine someone whom you would deem a creative artist being bored by his own work and still seem creative to you? Honestly, I can’t.
From here on, there is only one thing to recognize: that interesting experiences are to be found everywhere. Fall into the trap to expect that you could only be interested by something more spectacular than the last thing you saw or did, and you’re bound to get stuck. Last thing was the Grand Canyon? Ouch! Where’s the next bigger thing???
I think the key is to be open to the world, to constantly try new things, especially those that you don’t know. In that respect SoFoBoMo was a fantastic thing. Try do the next, but don’t always make books, only because you now know how to do it. Take a macro lens and use it to make images of people on the street. Take a Lensbaby and use it for architecture. Use the wide-angle for portraiture. OK, that’s what Platon does, so that’s not original, but remember that you don’t have to want to be original as you don’t have to want to be creative. Be yourself. You are an original and it would be a lot of boring work to emulate another original. You see, originality is maintained automatically, just as creativity. You just have to be yourself and do what you enjoy.
Basically it boils down to the same points as the discussion about “finding one’s style”. Don’t try to do it. It will find you. Just do.
But, stop, the original question was not only about being creative at all, it was about growth, about constantly getting better. Fortunately the answer is still the same.
Do. Be productive. You can’t possibly be productive without getting better at what you do. You get better by learning, but practicing and learning are tightly coupled. You can’t do and not learn. It’s impossible. Don’t think about it, don’t care about it, your human nature does. Just do.
Andreas, thanks for your well thought out post. I certainly agree 100% with the productivity = creativity; however, trying new things just to try them, well, I don’t know. Perhaps novelty is a catalyst for creativity.
For example, I have a Lensbaby sitting on my desk, but I rarely use it. It doesn’t strike my fancy. Also, I know that any time that I am in a funk, perhaps, I can get out the macro lens and do something interesting. It just happens that way.
Even with trying new things, I think that the plateau is inevitable and searching for bigger things, different things, newer things, doesn’t resolve the issue. I would agree that we are (taught to be) relentless pleasure seekers, rarely taking time to enjoy what is in front of us, glancing only with a blithe indifference to what is before us. We are very much hedonistic in nature. We are taught that we must always improve. Never settle.
I am seeking to tame that nature (teaching), slow down, and appreciate what is before me. I want to relish that plateau, but sometimes it’s difficult. Lastly, I don’t think that we are born with this restless nature. I think that we are taught it.
Striving for better, bigger, greater things, hoarding treasures, I think that’s our heritage from the days when we all lived in caves. The problem is, that we have learned to make no difference between what we need to survive and what we need to be satisfied. Hoarding treasures (or meat, grain, … ) is fine if you want to survive, but you can get to the point where you have enough of it, and where hoarding more does not improve your chances of survival. At that same time, the matter of satisfaction only begins to come into question, and that is NOT a problem that can be solved with quantity. Satisfaction needs quality.
I guess what you seek is satisfaction from what you do, and here I see a contradiction with the concept of better, bigger, greater. I believe it does not make sense. You can expect to produce ever greater and better things over time, but you can’t expect to get any satisfaction out of that. At any point of time you produce what you can, and at any such time that is your standard. It will always be less than you can imagine, because you can always imagine something bigger and better than you have. By doing you WILL get better, no chance to not do, there s no need to force it and not much you can do to accelerate it. Sure, teachers can help, but from a certain point you invariably have to go your own way. The only thing you could do to fail, is not going at all.
Well, the Lensbaby, the macro lens, these are only examples. Look around. Look into things. Be curious. Look into other disciplines. Look at what others do. Photographers. Painters. See something that you feel you couldn’t possibly do it, then to do it. See something that you don’t like and that you feel you could do better, then do it better. Pick something at random and ask yourself questions about it. Make it a subject and see where else you can find it. If you find another instance, think about what the two have in common and what makes them different.
All these are the usual creativity exercises, and surprisingly enough they work. In reality making good images is not bound to be in a certain place, having a certain camera, having leisure and most certainly not from worrying about making good images. It comes from making images.
By the way, I just ran into an Eliott Erwitt quote on Miguel Garcia-Guzman’s blog. Fits nicely
Plateau may not be the right word because it implies there is no higher place to go to… so perhaps just a flat step.
After all, when you think you can go no higher, you are essentially a goner.
One suggestion is to perhaps sit back and review some of your earlier work – think about how you did it back then, and how you might approach it differently today. I am working my way through Tony Sweet’s Visual Literacy DVD, and he is doing just that in the studio segment. He shows and talks about images he shot when he was getting started, and how he would approach the subject quite differently if faced with the same thing today. Recognizing where you have gone to where you are today can perhaps draw out a map that will make the future road a bit clearer. It is an approach that I am trying to engage in myself.
I hit a stagnant point this spring in relation to spring flowers. I have shot many of them in my area a number of different ways, and short of taking a trip to see perhaps different flowers and different landscapes, I just didn’t have any motivation to do the same ol’ thing for another year. Anyway, Tony has provided some ideas that I might want to play with. His style of photography is very similar to my own, as well as the approaches he takes to a lot of images. Check out his DVD – it has nice studio and in the field sections and provides a lot of ideas to play around with.
When I reach those familiar plateaus–whether it be in my writing or photography–I break away and throw myself into busy work–pulling weeds, planting, cleaning a closet, sorting files. Mundane work that requires little thought seems to draw me back to what I love best. I’ve come to recognize these “down” times as a chance to be still and wait for the next round of inspiration.
P.S.
Paul, this is a GREAT photo! I loved it instantly because her face isn’t showing. The braid left me asking questions, and that is the sign of an evocative photo!
@Andreas: I think that you hit upon something when you mentioned satisfaction. Perhaps that is it. Perhaps I am still, from time to time, seeking my voice. When I got out to shoot, just for the sake of shooting, sometimes it helps. Other times it does not. There are times when it feels that I am just ‘talking’ just to hear my self talk, but with nothing important to say. Changing locations, etc. sometimes sparks a new topic, but that can run its course quickly. I am more into the mode that Bonnie (Photo Buffet) mentioned. In those creative lows, for lack of better words, I can submerse myself in busy work and let my creative mind do some creating in the background.
@Mark: I don’t look at plateau as a permanent thing, or a summit, if you will. I think that you phrased it more accurately as a stagnant point, or perhaps a flat step.
@Photo Buffet: I’ve done that before and it always works. Usually when I’m in the throws of some busy work around the house, suddenly my eye catches something and run and get my camera, work with it for a while, and then am quite content with the outcome. I was receptive. Going out when I’m not receptive is rather a waste of time … sometimes; other times, I can slip into the mode of receptiveness.
Paul, Andreas, two interesting points are touched here in my opinion, growth and the management of plateaus.
I guess that strive for growth is part of our nature (well explained, Andreas) but growth should be seen differentiated: while physical growth, and the growth of the stock market there belongs to the physical world in spite of these figures beeing mainly hypothetical ones, not really fully backed by physical assets will lead to distortions – just see overusage of ressources, soaring prices of commodities, even the daily traffic jam – qualitative growth, including the growth of your own creativity, seems to be disconnected from the physical side effects of unlimited growth. OK, it may happen that the number of people that understand your art diminuishes, but that itself is only a sign of change, not an indicator of quality. You create because it is part of your essence.
That brings me to the topic of that creative plateaus, that probably many of us know. In retrospective it seems to have been a rule in my life that those quiet phases are predecessors of outbursts of creativity, like a critical mass that has to accumulate up to a certain level and then suddenly everything falls into place and the quality of results just leaps forward. Therefore I do not fear those plateaus any more. Working and creating, going on and trying, reflecting and improving at least for me is the way to fill the plateaus with directed activity and to help that critical mass to grow.
Paul, kudos for kicking off this stimulating discussion. I found all the comments useful and instructive, but those made by Photo Buffet, Markus, and your last comment, Paul, especially hit home with me. I have to relish those quiet periods (frequently using the “lull” time for physical chores). I think giving ourselves some time to recharge is vital, and it’s often a mistake to think that we are not engaged in the creative process during those lulls. Of course, it’s a balancing act, because we can get too cozy in the quiet period and drift off to sleep. But, if we truly listen and we aren’t running away, we will hear the voice that calls us back to the active stage of the creative process. Coming back refreshed and with “new eyes” can be a positive side-effect. The trick is finding our own path back to the active and obviously productive stage. For each of us, that path must be tailored to our nature.
I didn’t read all the previous comments, so I may repeat some of them.
I think the plateaus are closely related to how humans actually learn. It is not linear, we make small or big leaps ahead with idle periods in between. This is something we have to accept. I try to handle plateaus with patience. You often notice this when you try to improve on a specific area, and you don’t get anywhere. What I try to do is to put that aside for a while and focus on something different. Maybe something totally unrelated (I usually end up binding books). When I get back to the problematic topic, my brain is often more able to absorb, and I can improve again.
I find this to be true for both physical skills and intellectual knowledge. I used to dance very active a couple of years ago, and quite often I was unable to learn a new step or move no matter how hard I tried. then I could come back to it two weeks later and just do it right the first time.