“Sadly, at some point children will begin to lose their fantasy thinking. They begin to figure out there really is no Santa Claus or that cartoon characters are not real. This is the beginning of logical thinking. School will begin to teach them more conventional rules, such as math and grammar. Even so, the brain still likes to have fun …” – Reynold Chan, M.D.

My ongoing professional evolution is from communicator to storyteller. An image remains in my head with me sitting in a freshman critique contemplating a picture of an empty chair sitting by a lake shore. My Professor asked me, “What questions does this photo inspire in you?” While I’m still unsure exactly what he was after, I do recall rewinding my 18 year old memory of lakeside and empty chair experiences.

“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, It’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life’s realities.” – Dr. Seuss

Don’t you add photos after the story is written? Don’t book covers illustrate the book? Somewhat opposed to my early convention, that lake shore photo was my personal fairy-tale catalyst. This was my earliest realization that stories are told in every way imaginable. My lakeside narrative would not exist but for the photo in freshman critique, yet the photographer was oblivious to my tale.

The idea that the most powerful photographs create unanswered questions is somewhat counter intuitive. They launch what is familiar and relateable then add another element; a mystery element that forces you to search your experiences for unavailable pat answers simultaneously refusing to release the original connection.

Powerful images don’t deliver complete information; without the void you’d reject your imagination. It’s the same balancing act that is found in great storytelling. Void replacement propels the story forward.

In this video is Story teller Jay O’Callahan. Listen to him tell of the Moon Landing and try to imagine getting all that information another way: perhaps a Powerpoint presentation with all the bells, whistles and completed bullet points? Hardly. O’Callahan’s story gives us frames for our imagination. We feel it as part of our human condition; imagining the guts it took to leap from the lunar module. I don’t know about you but it never occurred to me that Armstrong’s leap moment was death defying.

The contexts of unanswered questions offer suggestions, and suggestions are valuable when the story is strong. Suggest too much and the questions are answered, not enough and the value is lost leaving context with no clout.

In the Masthead photo: Jay performing “Pouring the Sun” at Studio Arena Theatre in Buffalo, NY – Photo by Randy Krautsack

A friend of mine posted this today – fun – it’s great how information now finds me; without my network I would have missed this completely.

The Washington Post’s Style Invitational asked readers to take any
word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing
one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are this year’s winners:

1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows
little sign of breaking down in the near future.

2. Foreploy (n.): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose
of getting laid.

3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the
subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

4. Giraffiti (n.): Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

5. Sarchasm (n.): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the
person who doesn’t get it.

6. Inoculatte (v.): To take coffee intravenously when you are running
late.

7. Hipatitis (n.): Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis (n.): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra
credit.)

9. Karmageddon (n.): its like, when everybody is sending off all these
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s
like, a serious bummer.

10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that are good for you.

11. Glibido (v.): All talk and no action.

12. Dopeler effect (n.): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter
when they come at you rapidly.

13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after
you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in
the fruit you’re eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16. Ignoranus (n): A person who’s both stupid and an asshole

In this Video from the TED Conference this year, Author of Eat, Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert has this fun take on the origins of our creativity and a great way to conquer the fear.

Bio from her website:

Elizabeth Gilbert was born in Connecticut in 1969 and was raised on a small family Christmas tree farm.   She is the sister of the young adult novelist Catherine Murdock author of Dairy Queen and The Off Season. Elizabeth went to college in New York City in the early 1990’s, and spent the years after college traveling around the country and the world, working odd jobs, writing short stories and essentially creating what she has referred to as her own MFA program.

This post is contrary to the point being made but – hey – I’m a photographer not a writer.

I’ve been reading “Ignore Everybody” written by Hugh MacLeod of gapingvoid.com fame.  He’s a creative dude with a quirky style who is profound in his discourse but disguises it well in a defiant “fuck you” attitude.  He relentlessly throws great prose, but this one on page 103 is worth repeating often:

“A Picasso always looks like Picasso painted it. Hemingway always sounds like Hemingway. A Beethoven symphony always sounds like a Beethoven symphony.  Part of being a master is learning how to sing in nobody else’s voice but your own.”

Admittedly, his point is not dramatically different than “feed your brand” and all that implies, but it has a decisively different target.  Hugh’s aim isn’t directed at the audience or consumer of the creative product or service but rather it marks the creator’s muse.

Derivative solutions are unavoidable but mastery relies on how much of yourself you bring to the solution.  It’s likely that only you know how much you borrowed but the goal is to sing in your own voice.  It’s a fight that is never completely won but as a creative you must be engaged in the battle and avoid your default.

Anguish, frustration, I’m so blocked.  I’m not sure why writer’s block is so notorious.  Is the profession filled with vociferous whiners?  Do they get creative block more than others, more than musicians, artists, web designers, research scientists, strategic planners, or Fortune 500 Marketing Directors?

No one’s immune to losing their creative mojo.  What about those titanic talents that we all admire but occasionally sneer at under our breath in a jealous tremor?  Even they can sink; they’re just slightly more buoyant than the rest of us.  Talent rises to the surface, but everyone can learn to swim.  Although I have met some creative floaters who perform as asthmatics adorned with a 100 pound weight belt, but that’s rare enough to dismiss.

Imaginative creativity is an individual thing.  Everyone’s method for reaching creative “flow” is proprietary.  Without realizing it, companies that try to enforce creative processes can better succeed at fostering resentment than nurturing creativity.  Being in a room with a dozen co-workers standing in circumference while holding hands, as they play “pass the story line” in an attempt to carve out a creative “space”, can feel more like corporate Hokey Pokey.  I’ve never rushed to my office in a fit of imaginative ecstasy after compulsory creativity building sessions – have you?

Interview one hundred creative professionals [those who get paid to innovate for example] and methods will begin to distill to some invariant form.  This is where all those “creative techniques” are born.  Blocked? Go to the gym. Want to be creative? Meditate. Running dry on the ol’ inspiration? Start a journal.

Techniques can be highly effective. I have a tool box full of pattern breaking activities that where collected over a 25 year career. Yet, following prescribed techniques is similar to knowing a phone number for great take-out and being pleased with the food you serve; needs are filled, but what if they don’t like Italian?  Got another number I can call?

Let’s back up a step.  Creativity is the act of bringing something new into being.  That new thing has form. Before it had form it was imagined.  If I build a chair from a pile of mahogany, am I being imaginative?  It’s not a given is it?  I’m creative by putting my stylish spin on the chair idea, but it doesn’t guarantee an imaginative solution.  The pattern needs to be broken in the imagination.  When we say, “be creative”, we generally mean – be imaginative.

Being blocked is symptomatic of predictable patterns.  The brain remembers everything as a pattern; random thoughts are imaginary, only patterns survive.  In an odd twist, being blocked can hint at an ego that has been stroked by too much reverence.  That’s why being touted as a world-class master or reputing great accomplishments with your special “style” can solidify a pattern cast in marble.  You become a victim of your own brand, fearful of experimentation or disappointed with approval loss that often comes with new directions.

It takes courage to express imagination – as it takes courage to act out or walk naked onto a stage – and it takes skill to filter the imagination in a meaningful way.  Imagination is so deeply personal it’s easily ignored except in dreams like so many vestigial insights pushed down making room for life’s challenges.  It may not be a societal compliment to say, “he has an active imagination” but that is exactly from where true creativity stems.  We all know how to imagine but the creatively skilled know how to harness imagination; they give it space, practice filtering and create new patterns.

So am I saying that this creative stuff takes work?  You betcha. Maybe even a lifestyle change. Stress causes us to seek known patterns: bring your “A” game.  Our “A” game is what we know works well; it’s proven and, therefore, doesn’t stretch our imagination.  The trick is to combine your “A” game with your active imagination in just the right proportion to satisfy yourself and your challenge.  Still, the more permission you have to suck, the easier it is to express your imagination.  Here’s a rhetorical brain teaser: Is it possible for a talented musician to suck in an unimaginative way?

Corporate “Hokey Pokey” creative exercises as support for profit driven deadlines and performance incentives aren’t the best creativity stimulants.  What’s needed is a culture change or – sans change – outsourcing.  I’m confident that’s one reason Volkswagen hired Crispin Porter + Bogusky as their advertising agency of record.  VW needs a company whose culture is steeped in imagination or at least one that is really great at leaching every last drop of creative blood from its stable of youngsters yet to hone their creative archetypes.  While I’m not an insider, I’m certain the culture at CP+B is far less about reactive judgments and far more about proactive risks.

What happens to those pre-marbleized young talents?  Do they get burned out and routinely patterned?  Some do, but the best learn how to stay curious and open while resisting reactive judgments even under the most unsympathetic pressure.  Nothing kills creativity quite like quick judgment – we fear it.  Our imagination shrinks like – well, you know – and “I was in the pool” is no excuse for this kind of shrinkage.  Taking an invulnerable stance is equivalent to moving away from imaginative solutions.

If you learn to endure fear, the imagination still needs fuel.  Creative curiosity is a passionate muse search without an agenda.  Vertical experience is helpful but broad horizontal experiences are crucial. Vertical knowledge is quickly assimilated; horizontal knowledge takes a lifetime of dedication. Without the open mind of a landscape thinker, companies are doomed to repeat what’s been done with little variation; the silo gets taller until it falls.

Want a technique? Try this: do.  Find your passion for doing, and then climb on for the ride. Passion gives you courage to suck.  Ever hear, “there’s no such thing as a bad question”? Of course you have. Yet, there are humiliating ones. A passionate question gets asked no matter how humiliating.  It can’t, not be asked, just like creative talent can’t not do.  Blocked?  Plunge forth with ghastly ideas, dreadful songs, appalling paintings or unspeakable prose.  Give yourself permission to suck. I’d be surprised if the great didn’t find its way out of that pitiful pile of poor.