Posts tagged with ‘quotes’

Vi Hart on 12-tone scales and creative constraints and copyright law and seeing patterns in randomness.

At about 14:00 she starts talking about the overwhelming, infinite possibility of creativity. One of the things that keeps people from making things is the fear that comes from sensing all those options out in front of us—each choice, each decision an opportunity for things to go horribly wrong. She says:

Creativity means fearlessly embracing things that seem odd—even random—knowing that if you keep your brain open you’ll eventually find the connections.


I used to write chronologically when I started, from beginning to end. Eventually I went, That’s absurd; my heart is in this one scene, therefore I must follow it.
[N]o big break is going to make it easier to get up in the morning and write. What makes it easier is trusting your own instincts and noticing that you have giant ideas percolating in that herd-animal brain of yours, you just have to dig in and find them. After you find them, you have to write something terrible that eventually, through a lot of editing, over and over and over, becomes something great.
[Mark Duplass] said something about how he’s happy to release just okay/good enough work on a regular schedule. Where his brother Jay would probably prefer to work on one thing for a long time, and release only A-level projects every few years, Mark is fine with releasing B to B+ projects more frequently. Mark Duplass is a workaholic; he always needs to be making stuff. Some of that stuff will be great, but more of it will be “good enough,” and that’s fine with him.

what happened?:  

OK like usual everything Ms Geier talks about in the post abstracted above is A+ & cosigned BUT this thing here in particular is on my mind a lot lately, in fact this very issue is on my list of Things I Need To Mentally Tackle in 2013.

My whole life I’ve been kind of a ~slow writer~ stressing over every little detail past the point of all reason, being afraid to let go of things, being afraid to call something “done”. Letting it be “done” means we having to admit it’s not perfect and never will be. One of my many goals for this year is to move through things quicker: write, let it go, don’t obsess, move on to the next thing. 

Part of this, if we’re being honest, is driven by my cynicism about the internet, and this hunch I have that having done some things OK is better than having done one thing really well. That quote about 90 percent of whatever is just showing up. But also, maybe, getting things done, putting them out into the universe/blogosphere/whatever, maybe that’s the thing that matters. Worrying about whether something is perfect, worrying that things have to be a certain way, worrying that every project has to be the ultimate best you can do, maybe that’s not super healthy. Writing and letting go and not looking back, maybe that’s the part that’s healthy.

I keep my notebook in my lap and write everything down. The notes are a filter; I am watching but not really here. I am on the other side of writing.
Usually what happens is at a certain point in the piece, you [finally] know what the piece is about. And that can happen very close to the end. You’ll come to that place and say: “Oh, that’s what it is.” If you’ve done it for years and years, you can be confident in it. But if you’re younger you may not be confident about it. It can be very scary. It’s kind of like you’re waiting with a fishing rod in the water, waiting for the bite. And it’ll come! You’ll say “Oh, there it is.” But it doesn’t come if you’re not there waiting for it. You’ve got to do the work or it doesn’t come.
"To live, just move forward towards those you love."

"To live, just move forward towards those you love."

I was into innovative manipulation. I laughed at people’s dumb jokes using an obviously fake laugh so they would think I was uncomfortable not laughing at their jokes so that they would think I felt slightly-to-moderately inferior to them so they would attain a false confidence that I would convince them to use to flirt with the doorman so that we could get into places and meet the interesting people I wanted to meet.

— Lynda Barry, my only hero, in Picture This.