Chapter 3 of potential hindrances to our creative development:

**00III: You need to know the rules before you break them**

I couldn’t help adding this P.S. segment to this chapter because I feel like I missed out sharing some of the stories that have inspired me to get past some resistance conjured by conventions. These may or may not do anything for you inspiration-wise but I want to point out another assumption: that we need to see or experience certain kinds of art to make our own art or feel creative.

As an art student at a post-secondary institution, you are commonly expected to be aware of the context of your work (what other artists are doing now relative to the past, culture etc.) and this makes sense and feels necessary. But to be honest, when I am asked who my favourite artist is or what other art may inform my work, I feel like I have to go out and find an answer in a forced kind of way. I recognize that I am inevitably influenced by the past and present (and I respect this) but it’s usually not fun to think about in specifics on demand. I mean, I could easily bring up some works that I love (as I have throughout these articles) but other art and artists are not my first go-to for inspiration for my own work. I don’t think we need knowledge as some starting point. I never know what’s going to make me feel like I’ve woken up to something until I meet it. Often times it’s an experience, story, sound, flavour or image that seems to have nothing to do with making art in any direct way.

Secretariat with his groom, Eddie Sweat.

Take for example Secretariat. You may or may not be familiar with this American racehorse but in 1973 he became the first Triple Crown winner in 25 years. The Triple Crown is a series of consecutive races made up of the Kentucky Derby (1 1/4 mile), Preakness Stakes (1 3/16 mile), and Belmont Stakes (1 1/2 mile). Secretariat set records in all three races and continues to hold these records today. His career brims with successes but he particularly blew minds in the Belmont Stakes by crushing the 1.5 miles (the last and longest of the 3 races) by 31 lengths (a massive gap between him and the second place horse-see title photo) without ever slowing down! Even when he did slow down after he crossed the finish wire, he set another record. His performance is still considered a supernatural occurrence in horse racing. But these are not the details that really get me.

For a very long time, criterias have been formed (and reformed) to determine the fastest horses. Secretariat was physically as beautiful as any bona fide racehorse (coming from very established knowledge). But would you bet on a horse that was described by his groom as the following?:  

“I didn’t think much of him when we first got him. I thought he was just a big clown. He was real clumsy and a bit on the wild side, you know…” (Eddie Sweat quoted in the Canadian Horsemen, 1973) 

Eddie also considered him too fat and The Laurin team (Lucien Lauren was the trainer) called him “Ol’ Hopalong” because he was awkward and lazy—his greatest strengths seemed to be eating, sleeping and being difficult. So this horse had what could be considered flaws relative to what was/is expected of a champion racehorse. But it seems that he was aligned with a dream-team of support who did what they could to both train him with structure and to allow him be himself. The trust in Secretariat’s nature, intelligence and ability appears to have been shared between the team members as well. The following narratives are taken from several articles as well as the book, Secretariat: the making of a champion by William Nack.

The jockey, Ron Turcotte, once shared that the trainer, Lucien Lauren, never gave him instructions before a race. He only said, “Ronnie, you know the horse. You know what to do.” After Turcotte gained the lead during Secretariat’s insane performance in the Belmont Stakes race (watch for yourself here), he confessed to wondering how fast they were going: “Lucien and others in the stands thought I was crazy. But I am the one on the horse. I knew he was well within himself. He was doing everything easily. His stride was beautiful. His breathing was good. Everything was going to my liking. My job, as I saw it, was to be a good passenger and stay out of his way. The only encouragement I gave him was to occasionally whisper in his ear. “Easy boy,” I would tell him.”

Meanwhile, everyone was “watching for some sign that secretariat was weakening, for some evidence that the pace was beginning to hurt, for the stride to shorten or the tail to slash or the ears to lay back fast to the skull. But there were no signs of weariness.” “He was moving beyond the standard by which the running horse had been traditionally judged, not tiring, not leg weary, not backing up a stroke, dimensionally in scope, and all the while Turcotte asking nothing of him.”

Secretariat chilling in his pasture. From the Tony Leonard Collection.

It’s hard to imagine the tremendous pressure during a happening like this—all the events and efforts (and money) leading up to it; the expectation, hope, doubt and the necessary faith in the unknown. What if Turcotte had overthought and held Secretariat back? What if the team had gotten stuck on ideas of strict standards of behaviour and performance and tried to train out or master and dominate his lazy overeating and willful tendencies (or his need for a pony to escort him off the track)? Would this have blocked his potential with resistance or unnecessary struggle?

As it happened, a beautiful paradox was left in tact; because as much as this horse was left to savour his love of eating and sleeping and acting up, he also didn’t need much encouragement and seemed to love training hard and running record speeds. Even on the day of the Belmont Stakes Mr. Lauren recalls, “He was bucking and playing the whole time he was out this mornin’.” There is no standard for something that has never occurred before and that’s why it cannot be repeated either. As Journalist Charles Hutton remarked back then, “The only point of reference is himself.”

When I first met the story of Secretariat I got this feeling of coming alive. Every time I watch the Belmont footage, I get shivers and all emotional. On an intellect level, this story offers me insight about the necessity for opposites to co-exist and that one must allow what is (even if it appears ‘flawed’) to keep the path clear to new possibility. Creativity as a life force unfolds from within. British writer and philosopher, Alan Watts, put it like this: “Living organisms grow from within outwards, and do not fashion themselves by standing outside themselves like architects or mechanics, they move according to inner spontaneity rather than objective principle.”

Predetermined ideas and skills and people may hold wonders but only if they lead us to the deepest essence of ourselves; our individual point of reference. Part of the fun is not knowing when, where or how these wonders will show up. Whenever I get bogged in shoulds and doubts, I’ll watch this race and it takes me right to the feeling I’m after.

We cannot live in a world that is interpreted for us by others.
An interpreted world is not a home. Our challenge is to take back our listening, to use our own voice, to see our own light.

-HILDEGARD VON BINGEN