James Chiang

“And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.” — Albert Camus, Writer

With information so readily available, everything so close and so immediate, we’ve become ever more attached to a world that seems to have gotten smaller and smaller even as the human population on this planet reaches 7.7 billion. And all the time we are busy with our thoughts — our desires, fears and feelings dominate almost every waking moment. Amidst this celebration of global communication and connection, we’ve become so self-absorbed that we’re no longer able to focus completely on the tasks that sit before us. Everywhere our attention is sought both from within and from without. This inability to concentrate nor hold a controlled or patient thought for any extended period of time is a huge danger to the creative (and to humanity at large). How then can we deal with this problem?

Steve Cutts satirical animated short film “Happiness.” The selfish preoccupied mind loses not only his ability to perform, he risks losing himself.

The key to attention paradoxically has to do with not more intense attachment of ourselves to our preoccupations but our detachment from them. Detachment is an extension of humility. So the first step, clearly, is to take our pride and ego out of the equation. Only then can our perspective and focus be guided towards more meaningful goals — goals that align with our truth.

Here are some steps we can take to be less attached to things that might impede our concentration and from the process of being a creative.

a) Have no desires/expectations.

“When an archer is shooting for nothing he has all his skill.
If he shoots for a brass buckle
He is already nervous.
If he shoots for a prize of gold
He goes blind
Or sees two targets –
He is out of his mind.

His skill has not changed, But the prize
Divides him. He cares,
He thinks more of winning
Than of shooting –
And the need to win
Drains him of power.”

— Chuang Tzu, Philosopher

Having goals doesn’t mean having expectations. Goals are mere targets, a direction to aim in. The divided mind — that is, the one that’s separately attending to the work while concerned with the impact the results of that work will bring — is doomed from the start. Personally, I have never seen this truth not play itself out. The path — the practice — is the only way towards success. The most interesting results come often as surprise and delight. This can’t happen if we expect it to, even if the results are as we hope. For all truly engaged action is detached action, and all detached action is unselfish action.*

*Paraphrased from the Hindu holy text, the Bhagavad Gita.

Phillipe Petit’s astounding 1974 high-wire stunt performed between the now defunct Twin Tower buildings in New York City is a testament to not only preparation and talent but detachment. Each moment (1350 feet from the ground) must’ve demanded every essence of his concentration on nothing but balance. From the documentary, Man on Wire.

b) Aim for quiet and simplicity.

“Only in the stillness of detachment can the soul yield up her secrets.” — Elsa Barker, Poet

Be in search of that still and small voice. The detached individual gives intuition a chance. This means really listening. In so doing, we become intensely present and proactive. A receptive mind is one that’s forward-thinking. A mindset where the goal AND the action become one and the same. So whenever interruptive thoughts arrive — be it hope, doubt, fear or anxiety — we go back to listening. We simplify and realign ourselves to the work. We do not focus on our feelings about the task or the feelings about the feedback that our art gives us. Instead, we assess the feedback and work with it — distancing ourselves while actively engaging ourselves at the same time. No emotional state should interfere; we choose to limit its impact. Like a meditation practitioner who turns away from the interruptive thoughts that emerge and returns to his breathing or mantra, the creative must do the same. This is no doubt incredibly difficult. We hop on the passion that drives us initially but do not allow it to throw us off course. Only via detachment do we stand a chance at accommodating the ebb and flow of things with grace. Our emotions — which are usually reactive and self-concerning — can confuse our intuition and readily pull us down towards chaos. Once a creative journey has begun, we must exercise the discipline to carry it through.

c) Make no assumptions

“There is nothing so expensive, really, as a big, well-developed, full-bodied preconception.” ― E.B. White, Writer

Nothing might be as dangerous to mankind as assumptions. All miscalculation, misjudgement, and prejudice can find their roots here. Sometimes making assumptions might seem like a short cut to success, to gain quick approval or attain greater efficiency but the price we often pay is gross error and misconduct. For the artist, making assumptions slides us back into the misguided afflictions of expectation and ego. It stands in the way of paying attention to what’s standing directly in front of us because we’re closing our eyes. Whether dealing with our tools, our craft or other individuals, making assumptions make us sloppy and careless, even negligent. So contrary to what a typically conservative mind might think, detachment doesn’t mean not caring in the ethical sense — in fact, it’s actually opposite — but caring deeply enough to sacrifice our own personal concerns for the sake of the doing the job right. Being detached means holding ourselves to the highest ethical standard by being absolutely devoted to the demands of the work (especially when it’s being done for the benefit of others.) And to do things right means to assume nothing before or during the process.

d) Acceptance and letting go

“Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune.” — William James, Psychologist

Letting go or overcoming difficult situations is perhaps one of the hardest things we have to do in life. The reason is because our powerful attachment to pain — of failure, loss, or regret — is deeply rooted in our biology. The remembrance of pain and painful situations serve as warnings and lessons. It’s designed to help us and protect us. Unfortunately, the price we pay for this biological “advantage” is its incessant irritation and disruption to the creative process and the process of living. Clinging onto the past is detrimental to our state of mind. Often times, to do something great, we must move on from the past, even if it was good. I recently had to destroy a good painting in order to make it better. As long as I held on to what it was, I couldn’t move on. Unless we accept that life — and everything in it — is transient, we fossilize. Paralysis by analysis and the fear of change has its roots here. Only when we detach, can we move on. Once we accept that the past can’t be altered, we can grow and experience wonder — wonder that can only come from the risk of experiencing something new.

The creation and destruction of the Tibetan Sand Mandala serves not only as a meditative practice but that of developing existential understanding and acceptance of the transience of life and possible transcendence from ordinary existence.

Summary:

Having no attachments — to either the materialistic or the idealistic— isn’t easy. But only when we are detached can we possibly find real connection with things outside of ourselves.

“It’s life that matters, nothing but life—the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all.” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Writer

Mahatma Gandhi was the personification of humility leading his people against tyranny with non-violent civil disobedience in the 20th Century.

“A great man is always willing to be little.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Philosopher

What does it mean to be humble? To stay small? To accept being wrong? To not assume that you know? These are all true descriptors of humility. But humility is really about understanding and accepting the fact that we’re all extremely insignificant, both in time AND space. The billions of stars and galaxies out there and the so many unknowns (including the unknown unknowns) are a clear indicator of how incredibly miniscule we are. And since as artists we strive ultimately for objectivity, we must have proper perspective for us to find and express truth. We need to think big picture and small ego.

This is remarkably difficult for our species to do. Individually and as a society we’ve perhaps never been more narcissistic and all-assuming. We think that our meager advancements in science and technology justifies our ego-centric view of the world; electricity, nuclear weapons, computers and now artificial intelligence all seem to present a case for our superiority over other species and the universe itself. This is dangerous not only to the physical world we live in, but to each other. So it’s not surprising that, despite our bounty of material comforts and instantaneous global communication, both our communities and our environment continue to suffer. An ego-driven socio-economic system permeates almost every aspect of our lives; it’s hard to remember our place in this universe if we’re always thinking only of ourselves.

The world is a pretty big place. Do we dare to think we really know everything or anything at all?

Therefore, an artist’s creed for his behavior must include the following humbling acts:

a) A removal of pride

“Humility is nothing but truth, and pride is nothing but lying.” ― St. Vincent de Paul

Beginning with the acknowledgement of our own mortality is the first step to seeing truth. It also serves as a reminder of what’s important and how we must honor our destiny. The individual who carries with him only pride and ego has already placed a restriction on his understanding and growth. And this lack of appreciation further limits his joy. Furthermore, being prideful, we become far too dangerously obsessed with ourselves. Then everything becomes about us, even when it isn’t. The ego, deemed so essential since the published writings of Sigmund Freud and Charles Darwin, is often a path to darkness, a path to soullessness and a loss of conscience. The world seems to have forgotten that the dominant theories of these “great” thinkers coincided precisely with the early developments of an ego-centric economic system in the late 19th Century. Given a mindset that only the self-centered, self-serving mind will survive and prosper, it’s not surprising that we’ve evolved into a world that carries with it near epic narcissism and lack of empathy. Just look at the names of our handheld devices and the “it is what it is” attitude toward injustice and impoverishment that permeates our society.

Oliver Stone’s infamous character Gordon Gekko (played by Michael Douglas in a Oscar-winning performance) in the 1987 film Wall Street. Meant as satire when the film was released, the tone here has become an accepted (and even lauded) motto of our times.

Furthermore, pride builds on the power of greed and fear.* Altho fear can be properly taken into perspective as an indicator of risk and confronting the unknown, it cannot be a way of living. Continued prescient fear will drive a man mad or into deep depression. (This is evident in the vast usage of drugs to treat anxiety/depression and rising rates of suicide in the past couple of decades.) Today, we idolize the power of fear as a motivator for greater achievement. Both religion and art (via its countless novels, plays and films) have warned us of the dangers of selfishness, greed and power. I personally believe there is a better alternative to carry us forward. Instead of pride, we can use professional conduct as a driver for excellence by leading with a sense of service and common care, rather than selfish achievement or aggrandizement.

(*To get a sense of how pervasive fear has become today, look no further than the words of the most powerful executive in the largest company in the world today.)

b) A respect for others

“Just remember, when someone has an accent, it means that he knows one more language than you do.” ― Sidney Sheldon, Writer

As artists, we must always remind ourselves to refrain from quick judgement and criticism especially when it’s not constructive. To assume that we know everything or anything about someone or that much about anything at all is an exercise in ignorance. Besides, putting someone else down is a very weak way of propping ourselves up. If we need a boost to our self-esteem, going for a run would be far more effective.

I alway prefer to assume that I might be wrong. Sometimes this seems to be to my detriment, but I firmly believe that without considering other options, even when we’re confident, we end up potentially closing up our minds. This I cannot afford to do. I know the limits of my abilities and my intelligence. If we are to keep an open mind, we must be willing to listen and be willing to entertain ideas that are different from ours. It’s the very essence of being an artist — to engage in the unknown. And to do so properly requires respect for others even if we might disagree with them. It’s not surprising, after all, that it’s our detractors who might most accurately help us find the faults or deficiencies in us that we cannot readily see.

“Man in a chair” by Lucien Freud. Study the works of an artist, not for its flaws, but for its wonders.

c) A respect for the craft, the tools and the materials

“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.” ― Ernest Hemingway, Writer

Art — all art — is difficult to learn and to do. It’s a very humbling process being a creative person. Art has a very direct way of telling us how lacking/deficient we are. This is risky and painful. And just to do art at all means to learn and understand the use and power of the tools. Each craft has its own tendencies and challenges. In oil painting for instance, the colors of the medium — although rich and sultry — have a tendency to want to succumb to earthy darkness and gloom. Watercolors, on the other hand, want to stay light and transparent. To get lightness and freshness into his oils and more depth and richness into his watercolors, the painter needs to understand his medium and apply them to the best advantage. A long and rich exposure to the craft and its tools is a requirement for a full and honest education. The artist needs to take time to understand all of its properties and learn to use them well. Like the native American or Japanese Shinto practitioner, he might offer humble respect and thanks to even “dead” or inanimate objects that cross his path. In return, the artist is rewarded with greater self-reflection and a joy from superior performance.

A lot of time, love and accumulated knowledge (history) goes into the making of an artist’s instrument. Never forget to give your craft and tools the highest regard.

d) A sense of gratitude for what’s come before

“Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart.” — Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Philosopher

It’s not uncommon today to see modern day artists offering little to no respect for the creatives that have come before them. Our generation (and I include all of Generations X, Y, and Z) is one seemingly forgetful of the concept of gratitude; we are quick to blame prior generations for our current misfortunes and absent in acknowledging what’s been generously given to us. This lack of regard ironically shows in the modern artist’s work. They make their appearance via trickery, duplication and appropriation (i.e. pawning off other’s ideas as if they’re their own). All art builds on what has come before but it’s all too easy to forget that one’s teachers, mentors, and the art of now bygone artists help shape our experience.

We forget — actually we almost have no idea — how hard it is to start from scratch, to work with almost nothing, with little support to lean on and no springboard to leap off from. Perhaps we feel no need to learn from history, to study (and pay homage to) the art of others, or to do all that hard “dated” work that strengthens the fundamentals. But from carpentry to filmmaking we’re witnessing a remarkable lack of originality and an accumulation of a whole lot of poor quality disposable product. I suspect this is what happens when we don’t respect and study the past. In contrast, the artist who respects and honors his predecessors is less susceptible to folly. Because he’s well-studied, he uses prior knowledge — prior experience — as a springboard for greater understanding and expression. He works to produce better products for broad use or individual expression. How he does things becomes as important as what he does. And his acknowledgement of those who’ve come before him allows for a maturity in his own development as it opens his eyes to the continued growth of the craft itself. He becomes a steward of the craft and not an owner.

Where would animation be without the contribution of Disney’s Nine Old Men?

Summary:

Without humility we cannot advance. We also end up throwing away everything we’ve learned from previous generations because we can’t possibly hold onto something we deem unworthy of our attention or respect. But if we remember that our understanding is limited and that our place and time on this earth is rather small and short, our problems and insecurities fade. Then we can return to what’s important again: our work and our connections to this world and its past. And this requires an abolishment of our ego every time it surfaces.