Which square is darker - A or B?

(Don’t scroll down and read the text until you’ve answered the question.)

Easy huh?

That’s right - the correct answer is ‘neither’. Squares A and B are exactly the same colour and shade.

Don’t believe me? Have a look at the image below, then move the mouse over it to isolate the two squares in question. (If you’re reading via a feed reader you may need to click through to the original post to see the animation.)

Still not convinced?

I must admit I was sceptical myself. Have a look at this next image - this time when you move the mouse over you’ll see the edges of the squares surrounding A and B, which should make things a little clearer:

Is that proof enough? If you’re STILL not convinced, you can print out the image and fold or cut the paper so that you can see squares A and B side-by-side.

They say seeing is believing. But after looking at this image many times I’m not so sure.

The first time I saw it, I was convinced the two squares were completely different shades. That’s why I asked Tony Clark - our resident graphics wizard - to create the animations. Now I trust Tony implicitly, but when I saw this I was convinced the squares changed colour in the second frame. So I asked him as tactfully as I could whether he hadn’t messed with the squares. Here’s his reply:

I was the one doing it and still was fooled. The proof was that in Photoshop I used the same exact color to shade out the “A” and “B” - so it really is the same color

How can an illusion be so powerful that it even fools the person creating it? Because of the way our brains are wired - we’ve evolved to notice differences (such as a movement among motionless trees) and to be highly sensitive to context (such as the shades of adjacent squares). These abilities are so important to survival that it’s almost impossible to override them. Which means the squares still look different even when we ‘logically’ know they are the same.

What Does This Have To Do with Creativity?

Remember the spinning lady? Which way did she spin for you? What did you conclude from that?

I was fascinated by the comments on Brian’s post, as they mirrored my own responses when I first saw the spinning lady. Like most people I saw her spinning counter-clockwise at first - which, according to the conventional explanation means I’m more left brained and logical than right brained and creative. How do you think that made the poet/creative coach feel?

Reading through the comments I recognized my own mixed thoughts when I first saw the illusion. Some people were convinced it was going one way, some were certain it was going the other. Some said it was clearly going one way then changing direction. Some said it was obviously a hoax. Some were pleased because it confirmed their image of themselves as left or right brained. Some were disappointed that it meant they weren’t ‘creative’ enough.

Can you see how black-and-white this kind of thinking is? As soon as we see the image, we want to put it - and ourselves - into a mental category as quickly as possible. Clockwise or counter-clockwise? Left brain or right brain? Logical or creative? Real or hoax? We feel uncomfortable with ambiguity, shades of grey and subtle distinctions.

Hardly any of the commenters responded to Brian’s assertion that “your left brain plays a crucial role in creativity as well”, and his questioning of the conventional wisdom about brain hemispheres and creativity:

Weigh in with your opinion about the right brain versus left brain for creativity… isn’t it really a “whole mind” thing?

The ‘whole mind’ concept of creativity is like the true appearance of the two squares on the chessboard: it’s staring us in the face but we can’t see it because of the black-and-white shades competing for our attention.

From Illusions to Reality

But these are just illusions, a bit of harmless fun - right? Well see what you make of these examples of real-life black-and-white thinking:

This ‘telephone’ has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication.
Western Union internal memo

Drill for oil? You mean drill into the ground to try and find oil? You’re crazy.
Drillers whom Edwin Drake tried to engage in his enterprise to make money from drilling for oil

Louis Pasteur’s theory of germs is ridiculous fiction
Pierre Pachet, professor of Physiology at Toulouse, 1872

What would I do? I’d shut it down and give the money back to the shareholders.
Michael Dell on Apple ten years ago

Who the hell wants to hear actors talk?
H. M. Warner, Warner Brothers, 1927

We don’t like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out.
Decca Recording Co. rejecting the Beatles, 1962

Stocks have reached what looks like a permanently high plateau.
Irving Fisher, professor of economics, Yale University, 1929

DOS addresses only 1 megabyte of RAM because we cannot imagine any applications needing more.
Microsoft, 1980

Windows NT addresses 2 GB of RAM which is more than any application will ever need.
Microsoft, a few years later

Everything that can be invented has been invented.
Charles H. Duell, Commissioner, U.S. Office of Patents, 1899

How about You?

What do you make of the chessboard illusion?

Have you ever got stuck in black-and-white thinking?

Have you ever broken out of it? What did you discover?

About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet, creative coach and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

Photo by José Encarnação

Duff left a thoughtful comment on my post about creative rituals, highlighting a potential danger of incorporating ritual into your creative process:

the yin to the yang of ritual anchors is pure novelty. Bradford Keeney is a strong advocate of creative living by shaking up habitual routines and rituals. There is definitely something to this argument as well.

Ideally the ritual functions as a gateway to the magical realm of the imagination - but what if it descends into a mindless routine?

Gustave Flaubert advised artists to ‘be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work’. But Lou is regular and orderly in everything he does, and no-one would describe his work as violent and original.

So what’s the difference between a creative ritual and a mundane routine?

Here are some answers that occur to me - I’d love to hear what you think.

Mundane routines produce mundane work. Creative rituals produce remarkable work.

Mundane routines make life dull and predictable. Creative rituals make life rich and rewarding.

Mundane routines are often imposed from the outside. Creative rituals emerge from inside.

Mundane routines kill time. Creative rituals take you to a timeless place.

Mundane routines keep you busy. Creative rituals make you productive.

Mundane routines are a distraction, a kind of procrastionation. Creative rituals force you push through resistance and get on with your real work.

Mundane routines are a coping mechanism. Creative rituals help you rise to life’s challenges.

What Do You Think?

What’s the difference between a creative ritual and an empty routine?

How do you avoid mundane routines in your work?

About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet, creative coach and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

Photo by Esparta

What do the following people have in common?

The Priestess of Apollo - Greece, 403 BC
She has fasted for several days prior to the 7th of the month, which is sacred to her God. She washes in the Castalian Spring, then drinks the waters of the Kassotis which confer the gift of inspiration. Clutching laurel leaves and a cauldron of water, she descends into a chamber beneath the temple and mounts a high tripod seat. Alone in the darkness, she waits.

Minutes later, the famous Spartan general Lysander is led into the temple above. Like the priestess, he has undergone rituals of purification and arrives clutching a laurel branch. On entering the temple, he brought a black ram as a gift for Apollo. The ram was showered with water and closely watched to make sure that it shivered from the hooves upward. The animal was then sacrificed and its organs examined for auspicious signs.

The voice that comes up to Lysander from the darkness is sluggish, as if the speaker were entranced or waking from sleep. Some of the words are unintelligible to him, but a chill runs though him when the voice hisses: “Beware the earthborn serpent, in craftiness coming behind thee!”

Eight years later Lysander is killed in battle - stabbed from behind by a warrior with a serpent painted on his shield.

Friedrich Schiller - Germany, 18th Century
The writer Johann Wolfgang von Goethe visits the house of his friend and fellow writer Friedrich Schiller. While waiting for Schiller to return home, he notices a terrible smell coming from the writing desk. When he comments on it, Schiller’s wife laughs in embarrassment and explains that her husband always keeps rotten apples in the desk, claiming he is unable to write without the smell wafting into his nostrils. Frau Schiller shakes her head as she adds that when writing at his desk, her husband also immerses his feet in a tub of iced water.

Knife fighter - Philippines, 20th Century
A middle-aged man prepares for a machete duel. The knife he clutches has had the poison of deadly spiders beaten into its blade during the forging process. Around his neck is an amulet, around his waist an apron inscribed with a prayer, which he recites with utmost seriousness, certain that these preparations will make the difference between life and death.

The England rugby team - UK, 21st Century
Jason Robinson keeps an eye on the clock in the buildup to kick off. He has a strict routine of bandaging his arm and leg joints in a particular order, at specific times before the game. His teammate Mark Cueto, having eaten his usual pre-match meal of beans on toast, is careful to put his left boot on before his right. As usual Cueto was last off the team bus, but he will be jostling with Mark Regan when the teams are called out, as both players like to be last out of the changing room for every game. Other players will make a point of touching the ceiling as they leave the room or putting on their mouth guards at the precise moment they step across the touchline onto the pitch.

Steven Pressfield - USA, 21st Century
The novelist puts on his lucky boots, ties up their lucky laces and heads for his office where he finds his lucky hooded sweatshirt, lucky gypsy charm and lucky nametag. On his shelf is a lucky acorn from the battlefield at Thermopylae. A lucky model cannon sits on top of his thesaurus. He points the cannon towards his chair then recites a prayer to the Muse from Homer’s Odyssey. Only then does he start to write.

So what’s your answer?

If you’re a hard-core rationalist you will probably dismiss such antics as ’superstition’.

Even if you’re not wedded to scientific materialism, you may find this kind of behaviour pretty weird.

But if you are an artist, athlete, actor or another kind of performer, you may well have similar warm-up rituals of your own. You might feel slightly embarrassed by such ‘illogical’ behaviour - but not enough to change it. In my coaching work with professional creators, performers and sports players, I’ve often heard clients say “You’ll think it’s silly but …” before telling me about their pre-work ritual.

I’m going to suggest that this kind of ritual is far from silly or irrational. In fact, if you’re a creative professional, it may be the most important thing you do all day.

You may know from your own experience that such rituals ‘work’. If so, then you probably have your own explanation as to why. While respecting your explanation, I’m going to offer another perspective based on my original professional training, in hypnotherapy.

State Dependent Performance

Looked at through the lens of hypnosis, each of these people is engaged in a ritual that helps them enter an altered state of consciousness that is essential for enhanced performance. If any of these people were prevented from carrying out their ritual beforehand, the chances are they would fail to perform to their usual high standard.

Dr Ernest Rossi is a leading hypnotherapist and investigator into the connections between mind and body. A few years ago I had the privilege of attending a residential therapists’ retreat with Dr Rossi, and I can testify to his deep understanding of states of consciousness and their effect on performance. Central to his work is the concept of state dependent memory, learning and behaviour (SDMLB), which means that as we learn skills and knowledge they become associated with a particular mental, emotional and physiological state.

For example: right now you’re reading this blog post so you’re probably in ‘reading mode’ which makes it easy to absorb these words and relate them to other things you’ve read - whether in books, blogs, journals or other sources. But you don’t spend your whole life reading blogs (do you?). At other times you exercise or play sports, work in the garden, around the house or workshop, run around with your kids or do some other kind of physically engaging activity. There’s a whole lot of skills and knowledge tied up in those activities, but right now it probably seems a bit vague and far away, because you’re not in the ‘active zone’.

Next time you’re engaged in energetic activity, fully absorbed in whatever you’re doing, I wonder how vivid the world of blogging will seem to you. You probably won’t give it a thought - and if you were suddently interrupted and asked to recall the details of this article, you would probably struggle to remember at first.

The more complex the task, the more important SDMLB becomes. Dr Barry Gordon, a neuropsychologist, uses the term ‘minimind’ to describe such automatic, state-dependent abilities:

Driving a car is a good example of mental skills that have become automatic.

When you were learning to drive, you had to learn to pay attention. You watched your hands on the steering wheel, the hood of the car, each sign and traffic light, the other cars on the road, and every pedestrian. You also had to think about what to do in special situations: the stop sign or the yield sign, a car getting too close, a pothole. But as you practiced driving and became better, your ability to detect what was happening on the road as well as your reactions became automatic. You didn’t have to consciously look for a stop sign or a red light in order to notice it and automatically respond the right way. And if a pothole suddenly appeared, you immediately saw it and not only swerved but checked your mirrors for other cars nearby.

What you did through all this practice and attention was create automatic mental abilities. You used your conscious mind and deliberate intention to instruct your brain on what to attend to, what decisions to make, and what to be done. Your conscious mind programmed the necessary circuits in your brain. It instructed your vision to pay attention to the color red. Your mind established a network of override circuits so that the need to stop took precedence over almost everything else. It also set up a watchdog circuit, so you would not stop too quickly if a car was on your tail. Finally, it programmed what you have to do to stop: take your foot off the gas and push the brake pedal. All these mental processes were practiced to the point that they became instinctive, like a separate intelligence or “minimind” operating on its own.

…

All of your thinking, all of your decisions, all of your creativity comes from the same kind of miniminds you apply to skillful driving.

Dr Barry Gordon, The Neuroscience Behind Intelligent Memory

When it comes to creative work, your state of mind is critical. You’ve probably tasted the deep pleasure and satisfaction that comes from being absorbed in creative flow. And if you’re like most creators, you’ve also experienced the maddening frustration that comes of not being able to get into the creative zone. Most of the clients who have consulted me about creative blocks over the years have been looking for ways to access the SDMLB or ‘minimind’ of their creativity.

Rituals Are Triggers for High Performance States

Rituals are important for creativity because they can unlock the state of mind in which you do your most inspired work. They may seem silly or irrational but they are powerful precisely because they are so different to the kind of activities you engage in in other areas of your life.

When I trained in hypnotherapy one of the first things we were taught was the power of a unique stimulus to trigger a state of consciousness. Three of the most important factors that affect the power of a trigger are:

1. Emotional intensity - the stronger the original emotional state associated with the trigger, the stronger the emotional response whenever the same trigger is encountered in future.
2. Distinctiveness - the more unusual the trigger, the less diluted the emotion will be with other associations.
3. Repetition - the more often the intense emotion is experienced in combination with the distinctive trigger, the more powerful the trigger becomes.

For most of us a coffee cup doesn’t act as a powerful trigger - we’ve drunk so many cups of coffee in so many different situations that the object is not particularly distinctive or emotionally charged. But I have a very special coffee cup - a beautiful china one covered in Japanese calligraphy (distinctive) that I bought when I visited Kyoto to get married (emotional intensity) and which I only drink from first thing in the morning as I’m sitting down to write (repetition + more distinctiveness + emotional intensity). Over the past three years it’s become a kind of touchstone for me, connecting me with what’s most important before I start writing.

Note that the trigger itself is not necessarily possessed of magical properties. Its power comes from unlocking an ability you acquire through sustained practice. In the driving example, it takes many hours of driving before the triggers (the steering wheel and other controls; a red stop sign) become associated with automatic behaviours (controlling the car’s movements; stopping quickly and safely). Similarly, you could run through exactly the same routine with exactly the same objects as Steven Pressfield, without producing a decent novel. But the ritual has become magically charged for him because it gives him access to skills he has developed through thousands of hours of practice.

Have another look at the examples at the top of this post. Can you see how each of the rituals combines emotional intensity with a distinctive set of circumstances and actions that are repeated over many occasions? So far from being illogical or silly, they are vitally important to the performers’ preparations.

Isn’t it about time you took such ’superstitions’ a little more seriously?

Your Creative Rituals

Do you have a ‘lucky’ object that you like to have near you while you work?

Do you have any rituals that are part of your creative process?

What kind of triggers are most effective at getting you in the creative zone?

About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet, creative coach and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

Which way is the dancer spinning… clockwise or counter-clockwise?

Most people will see her turning counter-clockwise, which apparently means you’re more left brained (logical). I see her spinning that way, and it’s at first almost impossible to imagine her going clockwise. But it happens, usually by focusing or when something unexpectedly alters your perception.

Here’s the typical run down on left versus right brain:

LEFT BRAIN FUNCTIONS

uses logic
detail oriented
facts rule
words and language
present and past
math and science
can comprehend
knowing
acknowledges
order/pattern perception
knows object name
reality based
forms strategies
practical
safe

RIGHT BRAIN FUNCTIONS

uses feeling
“big picture” oriented
imagination rules
symbols and images
present and future
philosophy & religion
can “get it” (i.e. meaning)
believes
appreciates
spatial perception
knows object function
fantasy based
presents possibilities
impetuous
risk taking

Many people associate the right brain with creativity and lateral thinking, and there’s certainly something to that. Our left brains create structures that can act as barriers to alternative solutions and perspectives.

But your left brain plays a crucial role in creativity as well. Seeing logical associations between seemingly unrelated things is a hallmark of creativity. And the critical-thinking skills necessary to tell a good idea from a bad one are pretty important too.

So… tell us which way your dancer spins for you in the comments. And weigh in with your opinion about the right brain versus left brain for creativity… isn’t it a really a “whole mind” thing?

P.S. Want to know how this optical illusion works? Read this.

About the Author: Brian Clark is a new media entrepreneur and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

Photo by Sebastian Bergmann

On a cold winter’s day shortly before his death, the artist Michelangelo Buonarroti gathered a large sheaf of drawings from his studio and carried them outside. As he stepped through the doorway he caught his breath - first at the frosty Roman air, then at a gust of smoke from a bonfire burning in the yard. Approaching the fire with the breeze at his back, the artist bent over and started feeding it with the drawings - single sheets at first, for fear of choking the flames, then more and more as the blaze took hold, finally dumping the whole pile into the heart of the conflagration. Reaching for a pitchfork, he scooped up stray sheets and scraps, folding them back into the flames.

An outstretched arm shrivelled and blackened before his eyes. A woman with the face of an angel flickered out in an instant. A cathedral facade burst into flames and collapsed. A fury screamed silently in its miniature hell. Without a second glance, the artist went back into the house for another load. Then another. As the morning progressed, the column of smoke grew thicker and rose higher, visible across the city in the clear winter sunshine. Michelangelo did not stop until he had emptied the studio, until every last scrap was safely gathered in to the fire. Until there was nothing to show for his years of toil with chalk and ink but a heap of embers and ashes.

Why?

What on earth possessed Michelangelo to destroy his own drawings, on which he had worked so hard? Why did he deprive the world of so many precious masterpieces?

Even in his own lifetime, Michelangelo was revered as a divine genius, and his sketches were valued accordingly. He was the first artist to have his biography written while he was still alive. His biographer, Giorgio Vasari, wrote that he treasured a drawing by Michelangelo ‘as a relic’ - i.e. a physical object with miraculous qualities. A 16th century Italian Catholic would not use such a term lightly.

Perfectionism was Vasari’s explanation for the burning: ‘Michelangelo’s imagination was so perfect that, not being able to express with his hands his great and terrible conceptions, he often abandoned his works and destroyed many of them.’

Craftsman and author Roger Coleman offers another interpretation:

Michelangelo was, if anything, ashamed of his drawings. In his thinking the ‘art’ stage of creative production, which he identified with the careful procedure of making studies, sketches and working drawings, was the menial and mundane side of the business, whereas true merit was to him displayed in the rapid and apparently effortless execution of a painting or sculpture.
The Art of Work

By burning his drawings, Michelangelo was destroying the evidence of the ‘menial and mundane’ work that constituted his creative process. His aim was to leave behind only finished masterpieces, bolstering his image as a creator of sublime genius. With the drawings gone, the public would be reduced to gaping at his paintings, sculptures and buildings, shaking their heads and asking themselves ‘How did he do it?’.

Michelangelo was a notoriously proud individual, yet there was more to this attempted deception than vanity. Coleman points out that Michelangelo was living at a time when the whole concept of art was in transition.

The world of the medieval guilds was coming to an end. In this tradition, there had been no concept of an individual ‘artist’ in the modern sense. ‘Art’ simply meant ’skill’ or ‘labour’, and artists were essentially craftsmen. They were hired labourers, paid according to the hours they worked. Most projects were collaborations, making it hard to single out any individual and credit him as ‘the artist’. Skill and knowledge were highly prized, handed down from master to apprentice and guarded closely as trade secrets within the guilds. Drawings were functional, containing important knowledge and ‘working out’ necessary to create the finished artefact. They would not have been seen as artworks in their own right, any more than the scaffolding used in the construction of a building.

The brave new world of the Renaissance brought with it a very different concept of the artist - as a solitary, divinely inspired ‘genius’ capable of feats of creation that ordinary mortals could not aspire to, but only marvel at:

Michelangelo was actually working within the context of a tradition in which art was synonymous with skilled work and, as any skilled worker knows, the preparatory stages of any job of work are of fundamental importance and determine absolutely the quality of the finished product. But Michelangelo’s work was appreciated and commissioned by class of patrons which was already attached to the idea of genius: individuals who advertised their social status by surrounding themselves with the works of ‘genius’.
The Art of Work

Among this class of patrons was Giovanni Rucellai, a wealthy Florentine who was the first art collector to catalogue paintings by the name of the artist instead of the subject. Michelangelo was keenly aware of the economic benefits of being perceived as a lofty genius instead of a lowly craftsman. Destroying the evidence of his labours was part of a calculated strategy of projecting the image of genius.

As time went by, artists ceased to be paid for mere labour, and were instead rewarded in proportion to their perceived level of genius. The modern art market evolved through the mutually reinforcing benefits that accrue to artists and collectors: the former increased their status and earnings exponentially; the latter enjoyed healthy returns on their investments while basking in the reflected glory of genius.

The Myth of Genius

Far from being divinely inspired, it looks as though the modern concept of genius originated in market forces and naked ambition.

So what?

If you aspire to high level creative work, and/or depend on your creativity for a living, then the myth of genius could seriously damage your work and your career. Here’s why.

Firstly, it’s all too easy to place the ‘geniuses’ in your field on lofty pedestals, and tell yourself you have no hope of emulating them. Not only is this discouraging, but it also deprives you of the opportunity to learn from their example. In a way, it’s a form of laziness - it takes a lot less effort to gawp at Michelangelo’s David than it does to carefully study his surviving drawings (he missed a few) and apply the lessons to your own practice. It’s all very well to swoon at Mozart melodies, but if you’re a professional composer then it’s your business to study his technique and learn from it.

I sometimes encounter a subtle variation on the genius myth when working with coaching clients. Some of them get stuck worrying about whether they are ‘a real writer’ or ‘a genuine artist’. They mistake the image for the process. My answer is always the same: ‘Forget about “being a writer”, let’s focus on “doing the writing”‘. Once they do this it becomes much easier, as we can usually find the point in the process where they get stuck, and come up with new options for working through it.

Secondly, although genius is a myth, it’s a very popular and persistent one. Canny marketers will tell you that perception is reality as far as the market is concerned. If you understand the genius myth, you can learn a thing or two from Michelangelo about how to exploit it to your advantage. Otherwise you risk being cast in the shade by self-proclaimed ‘geniuses’ - just as Michelangelo intended.

Robert Weisberg is a psychology professor who has devoted two books to demolishing the myth of genius. In the popular view, he writes, genius has two main attributes:

1. Extraordinary thought processes - such as leaps of insight, unconscious incubation, remote associations and lateral thinking.
2. Special psychological characteristics - the ‘genius personality’, made up of extraordinary sensitivity, flexibility and other admirable traits.

His central argument is that there is no evidence for either of these attributes: high-level creativity does not involve special ‘creative thinking’ techniques, but results from ordinary thought processes; and that genius cannot be reduced to a set of personality characteristics. Creativity - Beyond the Myth of Genius is a provocative and stimulating book that will give you a very unconventional take on creativity. You may not agree with everything Weisberg says, but he will make you question some of your fundamental assumptions about creativity. And if you’ve ever worried that your thinking isn’t sufficiently ‘lateral’ or ‘outside the box’, or that you’re simply ‘not mad enough’ to be a real creative genius, you may even find it an encouraging read.

So What DO You Need for Creative Success?

Robert Weisberg lists the following factors as essential for creative achievement: talent and skill; motivation and productivity; and knowledge of your chosen field.

Talent

My brother is a musician. He’s forever humming, tapping, running through tunes in his mind. If his guitar is nearby his fingers start itching to pick it up. If I bought a guitar tomorrow and practised with every day for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t get half the music out of it that he does. I don’t have the talent. Words, on the other hand are a different matter. My friends are sometimes amazed that I can remember whole poems by heart or repeat back exactly what they said several years ago. But to me it comes naturally, I can’t help it. Words are in my blood.

Skill

Raw talent will only get you so far - skill and mastery come from practice. Each time I hear Paul play, sometimes at intervals of several months, I can swear he’s better than the last time. Which he is, of course. Because he’s always playing. Just as I’m always writing - I start most working days by writing for several hours. When I look at something I wrote years ago it’s easy to cringe - any improvement in the meanwhile has come from all those hours of practice.

Motivation

I even find myself writing at weekends, when I don’t really have to. But if an idea for a piece gets into me, it won’t leave me alone, so work is more enjoyable than lying in bed. It doesn’t even feel like work. According to Weisberg, I’m not alone, since ‘a strong desire to succeed and a high level of commitment to one’s chosen field’ - in other words powerful extrinsic and intrinsic motivations - are typical of creative people.

Productivity

Motivation and practice lead to productivity:

one particularly impressive characteristic of the most esteemed individuals (and presumably the most creative) in any field is that they are almost always extremely productive. In addition to possessing talent, then, one must be willing to work, sometimes to the exclusion of everything else.
Creativity - Beyond the Myth of Genius

Knowledge

One of the root causes of the Florentine Renaissance was the excavation of Roman ruins and rediscovery of ancient forms of sculpture and architecture, which had been lost for centuries. Without this knowledge, the great Renaissance artists could not have produced such an extraordinary flowering of sculpture, painting and building, no matter how talented they were. Weisberg argues that ‘one must become immersed in the field and develop a deep expertise before one becomes capable of going beyond what has already been produced’.

Bearing in mind Michelangelo’s example, I would add the following factors to Weisberg’s list:

Collaboration

Art historian Ernst Gombrich was evidently under the spell of the genius myth when he wrote The Story of Art:

it is very difficult for any ordinary mortals to imagine how it could be possible for one human being to achieve what Michelangelo achieved in four lonely years of work on the scaffoldings of the papal chapel.

In fact, historian William E. Wallace has shown that Michelangelo collaborated with no less than 13 people on the Sistine Chapel, and with around 200 on the Laurentian Library in Florence. So much for loneliness. As Michael Michalko points out, ‘Michelangelo was not only a great artist, he was a CEO of other talent that collaboratively made the art that bore his name’. As we’ve seen elsewhere, collaboration is critical to success and creative rock stars love to work with other cool creative dudes.

Marketing

Gombrich was writing 400 hundred years after the death of Michelangelo, and is still far from alone in his veneration of the artist’s divine genius. So it looks like Michelangelo did a great job of his marketing - if we define marketing as projecting the right image to the people who matter. Genius may be a myth, but as Seth Godin reminds us, all marketers are liars - they understand that nothing sells like a good story.

A business model

Economist Tyler Cowen is pretty blunt in his description of Michelangelo:

Beethoven and Michelangelo, who sold their artworks for profit, were entrepreneurs and capitalists. Rembrandt, who ran a studio and employed other artists, fits the designation as well.
In Praise of Commercial Culture

Michelangelo’s art and business were inextricably intertwined - his materials were expensive, and he was ambitious to have his work on display in the most prominent places - so he depended on his ability to win lucrative contracts from wealthy clients, beating off stiff competition from the likes of Raphael and Leonardo. If you want to make a living from your creativity then you’ll need a similarly sound business model. Even if you’re content to pursue your art as a hobby in your spare time, you still need to pay the bills and buy materials in the mean time. Remember, artistic self-expression is fairly near the top of Maslow’s pyramid.

Genius and You

Do you agree that genius is a myth?

Are there people in your creative field (alive or dead) that you would class as geniuses? Do you find their example inspiring or discouraging?

What difference does it make to your creativity when you forget about being (’a genius’, ‘a great artist’, ‘a good writer’ etc) and concentrate on doing (actions, routines, processes)?

About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet, creative coach and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

Photo by iBrotha

Have you ever spent a whole day doing absolutely nothing, either for productivity or pleasure?

The closest I’ve come has been on silent meditation retreats at a Buddhist monastery.

The retreats I’ve attended have lasted between 3 and 10 days. The schedule and rules are designed to minimise not just fun and distractions but also productive activity. That means no talking at any time, except for essential practicalities such as ‘Where are the saucepans?’. It also means no TV, radio, Internet, mobile phone, or entertainment of any kind. There are a few spiritual books, but you’re even discouraged from reading them, as they take you away from the present moment. No work either, apart from an hour of ‘working meditation’ each day, hoovering floors and cleaning toilets to keep the retreat centre running. And obviously everybody’s tucked up in single beds at night.

So what do you do all day? The wake-up bell rings at 5 a.m., giving you half an hour to get ready for the first meditation session. The rest of the day alternates between sitting meditation (usually for 30 to 45 minutes at a time) and walking meditation (walking back and forth between two fixed points, while maintaining present-moment awareness). Breakfast is at 7 a.m. and the last meal of the day is lunch at 11 a.m. The eating part’s not as bad as that might sound - the food is usually delicious and there’s plenty of it. If you’re really feeling faint during the afternoon someone will probably find a piece of chocolate, which technically counts as ‘medicine’. In the evening there is a talk from the retreat leaders.

So what is all this designed to achieve? As usual with Buddhism, that’s the wrong question. It’s not designed to achieve anything, quite the opposite. The idea is to be very present and aware of every moment, and to let go of your desire to ‘achieve’ things. In short, the idea is to do nothing at all.

Meditation is not about doing anything. It is pure attention without grasping, without interference. It is simply paying attention…

But isn’t paying attention doing something? Actually, no - not if it is pure, simple attention devoid of hope, fear, great, or expectation. Bare attention, in fact, is the only activity that does not involve doing something.

Zen priest Steve Hagen, Meditation - Now or Never

If you’re anything like me, someone who loves to work so much it can be hard to switch off at the end of the day, this is quite a shock to the system. Suddenly you’re off the hamster wheel, but your mind is still racing, thinking, planning. You’re itching to get on with something and you feel lost with nothing to do. The first few days of the retreat are usually the hardest, when you’d rather be anywhere else on earth - back in the office, in a meeting, in a pub, even in an argument - at least you’d have something to do, someone to spark off.

You’ve probably had a similar feeling at the beginning of the holidays. After weeks and weeks of activity, it takes a few days before you can really start to relax. But after that, it takes you into a different place entirely. You almost become a different person.

So What’s This Got to Do with Creativity and Productivity?

Absolutely nothing.

Seriously. Meditation is not designed to make you more creative or productive. If the monks saw me writing about meditation in the context of these things, they would probably find it very funny. Like watching someone climb into a jet plane, only to use it to drive down the road to the local supermarket for his weekly shopping.

If you approach meditation with the goal of boosting your inspiration or productivity, you will be disappointed. You’ll also miss out on the opportunity to experience what meditation does have to offer, which is far beyond the scope of this article.

It would be a bit like approaching a relationship with the goal of ‘developing your emotional intelligence’. While that might be a nice side effect of falling in love and having to deal with the consequences, I hope you’ll agree that the ‘falling in love’ part is the main event.

So I want to make it clear that what I’m going to write about next are really the side-effects of meditation. If I’d set out to achieve them, they probably wouldn’t have occurred.

To a degree, they are also likely side-effects of any ‘non-productive’ activity, such as taking a holiday, a day off or even a short break during a busy day. My aim is to highlight one of the paradoxes of productivity and especially creativity: beyond a certain point, doing more or working harder is actually counter-productive. Your energy and concentration levels dip, your frustration increases, and if you’re not careful you could be on the slippery slope to creative burnout.

I’m not suggesting you all rush off and join a monastery, but if you’re serious about creating and achieving things that really matter, you can’t do it all through sheer hard work. It feels counterintuitive, but in the context of your creative process, sometimes the most ‘productive’ thing you can be doing is chilling out at a barbecue, lying on a beach, watching a DVD or mucking about with your friends. Apart from any effect on your career and your business, it will do you the world of good.

So here’s what I learned about productivity from getting nothing done:

‘Damn Braces Bless Relaxes’

It’s only when you relax that you realise how tense you’ve been. After a few days of doing nothing but paying attention to my breathing, I could literally feel the tension easing out of my body. It struck me how uncomfortable and probably inefficient it was to be tensed up by constant activity. The quotation from William Blake is designed to remind me of this when I need it.

Put Things in Perspective

A retreat is a quiet time to step away from your everyday life. All your usual concerns and activities are far away, beyond the monastery walls. They start to seem small and trivial. It occurs to you that maybe, in fact, they are small and trivial. Things around you seem much more real and important - the grass beneath your feet, the blue sky yawning over your head, steam rising from a cup of tea in front of you. A bird singing. Your own breathing.

Some Things Are More Important Than Others

If you’re focused on getting things done, the danger is you do this indiscriminately - you try to do everything, for everyone, all the time. But when you step away from your to-do list and look at the big picture, some things strike you as more important than others, either because you care about them more, or they are areas where you can make a bigger difference, or both. From this perspective, being ‘busy’ starts to look like an excuse, a distraction from your real business in life. Once you see your real priorities clearly, it’s harder to go back to the old way of doing things.

Thinking Is Overrated

A few days into my first ten-day retreat, I noticed something odd happening. I started to experience moments of clarity, or sudden insight, about situations and problems I was dealing with at the time. It became obvious how I had been limiting myself, or looking at things in an unhelpful way. I could clearly see a ‘next step’ towards resolving the issue. And the odd thing was, I hadn’t been thinking about the situation at all - the realisation just struck me, out of the blue. If you’ve ever had an idea pop into your mind while you were doing something else, you’ll know what it felt like.

It usually didn’t happen during sitting meditation, when frankly I found it very easy to get lost in my imagination instead of paying attention to the present moment. More often than not, it was during walking meditation, out in the meadow at the back of the monastery. At no time did the insight come through thinking about or analysing the situation. All I was doing was being very present and paying attention to my senses - my breathing, the movement of my body while walking, the grass under my feet, the cloud-shadows racing across the grass.

My friend and colleague John Eaton would tell me the insights came from Bodymind, ‘the intelligence of the body, working through the Brain, the Nervous System, the Glands, the cells and the Immune system’. He would remind me that there is no absolute distinction between the brain and the rest of the body, just an artificial one in our mind.

As someone who had always performed well academically, and taken a certain pride in intellectual accomplishment, this was a surprising experience. It suggested that reason is a fairly limited tool for understanding myself and making decisions about things that really matter. And the parallel with the well-known ‘Eureka!’ moment of creative inspiration didn’t escape me. Since then, I haven’t given up on rational analysis altogether, but I find it faintly comical that so many people seem to deify reason. And I now incorporate physical activity and body awareness in my daily routine, particularly before writing. The best thing I can do before sitting down to write is to stop paying attention to my thoughts and get centred in my body. When I do that, writing becomes a breeze.

Work to Your Own Human Clock

Inevitably, I got attached to the moments of clarity. I started to wonder whether they meant I was ‘good at meditation’. I wanted more of them and was disappointed when an ‘insightful’ morning was followed by an afternoon full of irritation, frustration and boredom. This happened for several days running until I realised that I was simply much more alert in the mornings. So instead of getting quite so frustrated during the afternoons, I became fascinated by the ups and downs of my energy and concentration during the daily cycle. It was like riding a rollercoaster or a water slide - after a few goes you get to know where the big dips and climbs are, and you can relax and go with the ride instead of clinging on full of tension. Scientists call this daily cycle the circadian rhythm, or ‘human clock’.

When I went back to work afterwards, I noticed how much easier it was to do focused tasks like writing in the morning. After lunch, the words and concepts wouldn’t flow, and I found myself getting frustrated. After about 5 p.m. I realised my mental energy was almost depleted.

So I’ve redesigned my working day around my circadian rhythm: whenever possible I keep the mornings free for writing; I schedule meetings from late morning onwards, when I could do with a bit of company and stimulation; afternoons are also for dealing with e-mail, errands and less demanding work tasks; by four or five o’clock I’m pretty unproductive, so this is a great time to head to the gym, for a change of scene and re-energising. And I’ve come to distrust any decisions or conclusions I arrive at after 5 p.m. As a general rule I try not to work in the evenings and leave the computer alone. Apart from the fact that I won’t get much done, even I’ve come to realise that there’s more to life than work! Taking time out to relax will also help me get a good night’s sleep, ready to get going again in the morning.

Is There Enough Nothing in Your Life?

Do you make time for doing nothing? How? When?

What time(s) of the day are you most alert and productive?

What benefits have you noticed from doing nothing?

About the Author: Mark McGuinness is a poet, creative coach and co-founder of Lateral Action. Subscribe today to get free updates by email or RSS.

It’s a bit of a cliché… the artist’s loft with soaring ceilings as the ideal environment to unleash a masterpiece. But does that type of space really have anything to do with creativity?

Spaces with tall ceilings certainly seem more inspirational, right? That’s why it’s the second thing your real estate agent points out (right after “Look how big it is!”), and why you might feel a sense of elevated spirituality in a cathedral.

Turns out there may be something to this.

A study (PDF) seems to have confirmed that higher ceilings can, in fact, help with creative thinking. Essentially, expansive spaces prompt higher levels of big-picture abstract thinking, while confined areas lead to more granular, detail-oriented thinking.

Here’s what Rui Zhu, co-author of the study, has to say:

When a person is in a high-ceiling environment, they are able to process information in a more abstract, creative fashion. Those inside a room with relatively lower ceilings will process in a much more concrete, detail-oriented fashion.

So according to these findings, you want a bit more “head room” for creative thinking. But when it comes to action (and those devilish details), a confined space might help you focus.

What do you think? In your experience, do high ceilings prompt creative thinking?

Via Tall Matters.

Photo by luc legay

You MUST Network If You Want to Succeed in a Creative Profession

Like the people in the famous scene from the Life of Brian, we creative types love to think of ourselves as individuals, but in reality we’re part of a crowd. Or as Mark Earls or Seth Godin would have it, a Herd or a Tribe. Feel free to ignore that fact if you’re happy to starve in a garret, undiscovered by a Philistine world - but if you’re serious about getting your work in front of an audience and reaping the rewards your work deserves, then here’s why networking is essential to your success.

Richard Florida groups all creative professionals together in what he calls the Creative Class. Whether or not you go that far, it’s undeniable that many creatives take part of their identity from membership of one or more creative subcultures. This often works at an instinctive level - I recently attended my first event organised by 26, and was pleasantly surprised to find I instantly felt at home. It took a few moments for the reason to sink in - just about everyone in the room was, like me, a professional wordsmith. It was like meeting up with old friends, and I felt I belonged. The following week I made my first visit to London’s Design Museum, which I found enjoyable and interesting, but with a vague sense of being an outsider.

Identity is not the only thing we get from being part of a creative group or network. It’s a truism that creative inspiration often happens when disparate ideas, influences and materials are put together in novel combinations. Frans Johansson has written an excellent book, The Medici Effect, based on this idea:

when you step into an intersection of fields, disciplines, or cultures, you can combine existing concepts into a large number of extraordinary new ideas.

The book’s title comes from the Medici family of bankers in 15th century Florence, who used their money and influence to gather a wide range of creative professionals to their city:

Thanks to this family and a few others like it, sculptors, scientists, poets, philosophers, financiers, painters, and architects converged upon the city of Florence. There they found each other, learned from one another, and broke down barriers between disciplines and cultures. Together they forged a new world based on new ideas - what became known as the Renaissance. As a result, the city became the epicentre of the creative explosion, one of the most innovative eras in history.
Frans Johansson, The Medici Effect

If you’re reading this you’ve probably noticed that at the beginning of the 21st century we are at the epicentre of a similar creative explosion. This time (fortunately) we’re not relying on the bankers, and we don’t need to physically assemble in Florence. The internet is a virtual Florence, enabling us to step into an intersection of fields, disciplines and cultures the like of which the world has never seen. Social media technologies are providing us with opportunities to exchange ideas, stimulate and teach each other that are at least as exciting as those available to the great minds of the Renaissance.

As well as creative stimulation, a network of contacts is a great source of professional opportunities. When you need a highly skilled person for an important project, your first port of call is likely to be your network of trusted contacts. If you don’t know someone yourself, a recommendation from someone whose judgement you trust can be priceless. And the more visible you are in the right networks, the more likely you are to be the one recommended when opportunities come along.

I’ve said before that one of the best things about being a creative is getting to work with other cool creative dudes. Your professional network is a happy hunting ground for potential collaborators and partners. As with opportunities, the more talented and trusted people you know, the better your chances of assembling the perfect team.

Last but not least, hanging around with other creative people is fun! For many people, ‘networking’ is a dirty word, but we’re lucky in the creative sector in that most people on the scene tend to be interesting to talk to, either because of what they do, who they are, or both.

So wh