Being craftsmen, we all know the importance of expressing our art in the clearest, most effective way. Because without clarity, nothing can be related or understood.
For visual artists, that often means thinking in terms of strong shapes, clean lines, and obvious alignments of force (i.e. lines of action). If we strive for that, along with good composition and uncluttered choreography we should have most of the basic ingredients needed to make great art. Unfortunately, that’s not how making art works. Aiming to check off any list of artistic “requirements” doesn’t guarantee a satisfactory result or even a satisfactory experience. Why is that?
The reason is we can’t create art with just principles or checklists, even if such things are helpful and clearly DESCRIBE what makes good art. We mustn’t confuse knowledge with either awareness or understanding. Good art comes from good living — conscious living. This means making art in the state of oneness with the work, doing it with joy and paying the utmost attention to the challenge that sits in front of us. It’s about being mindful of not falling into the trap of automatic reactive behaviour. The focus is not lists or goals or even our desires and anxieties, but on connecting and creating. Only with true consciousness can we learn to deal with the needy compulsive behaviour that often dictates our artistic choices and even that which dominates much of our everyday lives.
From almost the day we’re born to the day we die we’re being conditioned. Motivations and ethics aside, over a lifetime human beings are continually and overwhelmingly exposed to ideas and sensations that solidify certain ways of behaviour that makes it very hard to have any real control over our current reactions to stimuli. In fact, we learn our conditioning so well, that once conditioned, we auto-reinforce the programming ourselves even when the external lures or pressures are no longer present. It’s the reason why advertising (or propaganda) is so effective and powerful, so effective that almost every website on the internet is funded via advertisement (save this one, of course). Neuroscientists today have confirmed as much — even what we think is free choice isn’t; our genetic memory, our environmental conditioning, our subsequent self-programming and even the environmental circumstances of our ancestors (e.g. children born from mothers who lived with food scarcity during pregnancy have increased statistical likelihood of developing obesity*) all play a huge part in how we react to situations. It’s scary to realize how seemingly little control we actually have over our individual behaviour.
How does this effect our making art? Well, if we’re not really aware of what’s going in our minds (and our bodies), then our thoughts and the habits of our thinking will rule over our decisions and actions. By simply reacting as usual to each situation as driven by our conditioning and by our egos, we begin to compromise our originality and the uniqueness of opportunity given to us by the challenge that sits in front of us. We defer to the safe choice, the easy choice, the convenient choice. In other words, there has been no choice at all. We’ve gone autopilot.
How do we prevent this? How do we stop acting like a Pavlovian dog?
Response-ability over Reactivity:
Step1: Awareness — widening the gap
First we must stop and breathe. Before giving into spontaneity and reacting out of fear or desire we must take the time to see as clearly as possible. Like a fighter suddenly faced with an adversary that pulls out a knife, we don’t charge in; we mindfully look first and assess the situation with calmness and detachment. This widens the gap of time between stimulus and response and halts compulsive action. By stepping back mentally, we gain perspective of the situation with greater mental acuity. If we don’t stop and gain clarity first, we’re almost guaranteed to slip towards reactive thoughts and emotions. For example, thinking “I’ve got to get this done,” “there’s not enough time to plan” or “If I fail, I’m screwed” puts us into a state that promotes behaviour designed only to alleviate our insecurities and give us temporarily solace. That’s how we rush into things. That’s how we fail.
Step 2: Assessment — Exercising the options
Once there’s been a pause, we can ask the right questions and search for solutions. Opportunities arise whereby we can exercise our imagination. We analyze and make the appropriate plans. We treat every situation like a new situation, like a new adventure. This is what prevents boredom in our work. After all, isn’t this the challenge we wanted? This is why, as a teacher, I insist that all my animation students make thumbnail sketches for visual problems like staging, posing and rhythm analysis and to get up and act out their scenes to feel the energy and emotions that their characters are experiencing (recording the action becomes just an option). Remember, we don’t think our way out of problems, we solve them through play by energizing our being and moving our physical body. All the creative arts work this way. Science confirms this.
Always remember this: just because we’ve taken action, doesn’t necessarily mean we’ve made a choice. There’s a huge difference between responding to a situation and reacting to one. Reaction negates any control and lacks all consciousness. It connotes enslavement to our conditioning. If we give ourselves the time and space and thoughtfulness to our challenges, we can respond with creativity and grace and perhaps make something interesting. At the very least we can find fulfillment in the process. But it’s by being response “able” that we gain freedom of choice.
Sometimes it’s tempting to ask if it’s really necessary to do so much work to achieve clarity, that so much is required of us to make good art. But if we need to ask that question, then we must ask ourselves something deeper: why are we making art in the first place?
*From Robert Sapolsky’s book, Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers