Category: Creativity

To create great art, it’s my belief that we must remove the ego.

I make no claims to perfecting this task. However, it’s in humility that true artists and great art emerges. Something happens when you let go of the need to be great, to be recognized. When we create solely for the purpose of creation itself, we begin to remove the ego from our work.

This doesn’t mean that we can’t use our life experiences as part of the creative process. In fact, life can humble us if we’re willing to submit to its lessons. That’s not to say that we should never take bold risks. We should. But take those risks for the sake of living rather than trying to prove something. Make your art a reflection of the experience, not the self.

When you create, let the art lead you. You are not a great artist. You are a vessel for great artistic works. – dse

Masks are a pain in the butt. There. I said it. I hate it when I walk the dog in the morning only to forget my mask. How am I supposed to get my coffee? Wearing a mask is a constant inconvenience and frustration to me.

That said, I’m 100% in favor of wearing the mask to help prevent the spread of coronavirus. I can’t understand why some people are so opposed, it’s not a big deal to me. Masks have been used throughout history for a variety of reasons. But they can be especially interesting if you’re a creator.

Think about the mask as an artist. I love the idea of creating a persona, of becoming an actor. Think about Tom Waits. Do you think he’s really an old drunk who still lives in dive hotels? Of course not. He created that persona years ago. He’s moved on from that person, but he knows people still see him like that. Think of it as his mask.

I’ll gladly wear the mask, both literally and figuratively. Even if the literal mask is a pain in the butt at times. To help stop spread of a deadly virus, I’m in.

I’m even more in when we look at the mask as being a mysterious piece of a performer’s costume. – dse

I don’t want to be a downer, but in my lifetime, the world has never felt more dystopian than it does today. There seems to be a daily sense of struggle and dread.

I live in the central part of Washington State. We had record-breaking heat this summer. We’re in our third month of unhealthy air due to the smoke from the wildfires in the western regions of the United States. Add the resurgence in numbers of people getting infected with COVD-19, political unrest, and a growing problem with homelessness, and my world is beginning to look like a dystopian movie.

I hope this will pass. I’m not certain it’s that simple. But let’s look at the bright side of things from the perspective of an artist.

As a creator, I find this sense of living in a dystopian world fascinating. It gives me new perspective and ideas for poetry and song. It requires thought and reflection to consider both my own and others’ struggles. Musically, the current climate lends itself to dark ambient sounds. Spending more time inside to avoid smoke and disease allows for more time to create.

So, you see, it’s not all bad. – dse

If you’re the creative type, an artist, a musician, a photographer, or even a writer, I wouldn’t recommend starting a blog. Blogging is not a great tool for creative people. I’ve found out the hard way. Now, you might call me an anti-blogger.

Starting an online portfolio, or a showcase, that’s different. In fact, that’s my ultimate intention for this site, but I have a writing problem. There’s always another idea, a new topic, another song, or a poem. But I’m a writer, not a blogger, Jim.

Here’s the problem.

Most creative people are not marketers, business people, or experts at promotion. But that’s what it takes to make a blog successful. In order to make it work, you’ll spend huge amounts of time, (and a good amount of money), developing your blog. Then you’ll lack the time for the true work of a creator: the art itself.

Financially, for 90% of us, blogging is a losing proposition, and it’s only about 5% of all bloggers who make an independent income from their blog. Chances are good that those people have to put in 60-80 hours a week. The four-hour work week is a pipe dream. Get over it.

I started blogging to try to get my writing seen, to sell books, to share my story. I played the game and followed all the so-called rules. I wasted too much time playing that game. After making a few book sales, I’ve only spent money.

Now, I’m only keeping a site as a future investment in promoting myself as a poet, writer, and musician. Other than my creative works, I’m not trying to sell you anything, no ebooks, programs, or courses. You won’t find popups, ads, or fake photos here.

You’ll just find me, the anti-blogger. – dse

I’m not one to get bored easily. I keep myself busy with a variety of hobbies and activities. However, one reason I tend to constantly seek change in my creative work is quite likely a result of a kind of boredom.

I’ve started and deleted at least half a dozen blogs. I have four more scheduled to be phased out soon. In the past, I switched songwriting genres several times, and now I’m primarily composing experimental electronic music.

Am I inconsistent? Discontented? Not really.

Truth is, doing the same things over and over leads to artistic boredom.

They say you should learn the rules of any creative task before you break them. I’m not sure I completely agree with that statement, but I do make a point to learn the rules of my craft. Then I look for ways to change things up a little bit, make my work more interesting, different.

After one writes 500 verses, bridges, and choruses, even with a variety of unique variations, things start to get a little dull. 500 blog posts? It all leads to getting burned out on the whole shebang and I want something new, fresh.

This is why I like the experimental music genre. It allows one to break out of the boredom of formula. It’s also why I sometimes use profanity in my writing. Nothing like a few curse words to spice things up, right?

Artistic boredom is real. When we work within the confines of specific cultural expectations, we can feel obliged to do things according to the norms of an industry, of society. But I want to explore the fringes, go beyond the expected.

Isn’t that what great artists do? Create the new? The profound?

As I get older, anything other than striving for artistic individuality and greatness leads to boredom. Is it just me? – dse