In the last post we were searching for a way to think about how rules connect to creativity. We considered rules as components of a structure that gives shape to the abstract impulse that needs to be expressed or experienced in the physical world. That is to say, if I’m a painter, I may consider my rules as my selection of paint, brushes, techniques, the surfaces I paint on and all the timing and process I use to manifest, express or create space for something to exist in my painting. If the structure suits me, there’s a good chance I’ll be dialled in to an infinite expansive field of creative possibility.

Now what if we find ourselves at a loss when it comes to forming the structure? Why do we feel at a loss? Does someone else have the rules I need? Why do I think someone else has what I need?

I’d say, for the most part, we don’t get a chance to ask these questions until we are at a point in our lives when we begin to challenge what we’ve been taught. As impressionable youngsters, we are generally told or shown all sorts of rules and, creatively speaking, we surrender our agency without knowing what it is yet. By that I mean that we are constantly being corrected and directed in our early years so that we become most concerned with external validation (pleasing others and feelin’ loved). It doesn’t take long for a child to begin to ask, “what should I do?” or “is this good?” and, naturally, adults want to be helpful and encouraging by happily stepping in with suggestions and/or compliments. It’s not terribly difficult to imagine a stream of life scenarios where this is a positive reflex and actually helpful. Like, “hey, try a bit more speed” to keep your balance on your bicycle and “you’re doing awesome!”

In the development of our creative impulse and abilities, however, this gets hazy as creativity tends to flow as a series of impulses from and toward the unknown. If we learn at a young age to wait for someone to tell us what to do, we can lose contact with the live wire of our creative impulse and replace this with a forced desire to achieve a pre-existing idea.

The Colour of Pomegranates. 1968. Film still.

When someone comes at us with suggestions when we are just getting into our flow, these are most likely projections from the suggester’s individual taste. If I say to a student, “you should add more green or more detail”, this is coming from what I know and like and what I personally want to see or what I’ve been told is ‘good composition’. I may even be tangled up in expectations of me as a teacher for results of ‘beautiful’ art from my students to satisfy or impress parents (more on that in the future). From the student’s perspective this isn’t a big deal if she sees it for what it is and has the confidence to take it or leave it. Remember, there is no universal criteria in art and therefore there is no ultimate authority or rightness. If the student is not aware that the suggestions are the teacher’s projections, she may stop trusting herself and begin worrying about getting it right in accordance with someone else’s expectations. This shifts the attention to the external experience that includes validation and a striving for certain, risk-free success.

I have stumbled upon some curious evidence of this process of losing trust in one’s creative inspiration. With open projects, students as young as 5 yrs often ask me “what should I do?” There was a time when I wanted to jump in with some helpful ideas but I’ve learned to be the one who is asking, not telling. So I say, “what do you think you should do?” Funny enough, almost immediately, most children have an answer for what they want to do. After multiple repeats of this scene I realized that students were actually asking for permission to follow their own impulse. Why do we need permission to follow our creative impulses?

Well, it’s fair to assume that by the time we are 5 yrs old we’ve already been told a zillion times to “ask first”. Before we learned this, we didn’t think to ask when we wanted to put a cheese slice in the DVD player, or when we felt like painting our own face blue (that’s my niece in the photo, feelin’ the flow). We weren’t concerned with the rightness of colouring our Thanksgiving turkey purple or recording fart sounds on the keyboard (one of my favourite old impulses). It seems the more times this initial ask-first question is filled with suggestions, the more we look to someone else for answers. After we’ve unconsciously/consciously stock piled enough of these interventions we may even get to the point where it’s extremely challenging to reconnect with our inner voice. I was still asking for permission in my first year of art school (and even now, I’ll catch myself).

All of this is to say that in our pursuit of freeing up our particular creative process, we need to acknowledge why we might seek an authority, rules or a set of steps to guide us. Do we need certain rules just because someone tells us we do?

If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.

– C.G. JUNG