The Creative Act: A Way of Being

Chapter 10 advises artists to immerse themselves in nature, which holds an infinite amount of inspiration and energy from which the artist can draw. Even the smallest details on a leaf or in the flight of a bird can energize the artist with limitless inspiration. The natural world is infinite, and thus, as the artist becomes attuned to it, they deepen their connection to the universe.

Chapter 11 communicates how the world and humans are ever-changing. Rubin writes, “You can’t step into the same stream twice because it’s always flowing. Everything is” (56). This quote, originally attributed to Heraclitus, expresses the idea that the repetition of past experiences is impossible because of constant change. The responsibility of the artist is to find the contours and textures of change through a practice of constant awareness.

Chapter 12 begins with a description of personal meditation. Rubin shares the external sounds and internal sensations that run through his thoughts, emphasizing that the “experience of our inner world is often completely overlooked” (60). The inner world and the outer world share equal weight as potential inspirations for the artist: The differences between the two, according to Rubin, don’t matter that much. Instead, artists must consider the multitude of inspirations available to them.

In Chapter 13 Rubin presents readers with an artistic technique that vocalists use when they’re writing songs. Before writing anything down, the singers will “sing random words or sounds that aren’t words at all” (63). This allows the musicians to access a deeper connection with the subconscious. Additionally, Rubin advises hitting a pillow as hard as one can for five minutes. Once finished, the individual should immediately write down their thoughts. The point of these exercises is to gain “admittance to a universal wisdom” that exists outside conscious experience (64).

Rubin encourages noticing the moments between waking and sleeping. In these liminal states, subconscious feelings can arise that provide fodder for artistic creation. As such, journaling dreams as soon as one wakes is advised. Moreover, attention to randomness, whether in personal thoughts or external reality, can open new levels of understanding.

Chapter 14 is a two-page chapter about paying attention. The information that artists seek is always available: “If we’re aware, we get to tune in to more of it […] If we’re less aware, we miss it” (67). Likewise, the opportunity of awareness is always present.

In Chapter 15 Rubin prescribes designing or visiting intentional spaces to enhance the artist’s connection with creativity. Isolated places favor direct transmission between the artist and the universe; busy locations allow for the artist to tap into the collective unconscious. Consuming material in a specific artistic discipline by frequenting places of production and entertainment, like museums, cinemas, or poetry readings, is also recommended.

Rubin shares artists’ curated spaces suited to their own creative processes. Andy Warhol created with a television, radio, and record player playing simultaneously. Eminem writes with one television channel playing in the background. Marcel Proust covered his walls with cork, closed his curtains, and put on ear plugs to write. These examples allow Rubin to voice his overall recommendation for artists when tailoring their spaces for creativity: Follow personal intuition and ignore outside interference.

Chapter 16 addresses doubt. Although doubt is often viewed as debilitating for artists, Rubin believes that doubt can serve the goals of artistic creation. Vulnerability, sensitivity, and insecurity are natural human experiences and should be integrated into the artistic process. Next, Rubin assesses the stigma that artists need painful and traumatizing lives to be great. This assumption is not the rule, per Rubin’s experiences. Great artists can emerge from tremendous pain because of their heightened sensitivity. However, great art can also be produced by those with extreme sensitivity who have been fortunate enough to live without extreme suffering. Creators should eschew self-doubt about their capabilities and keep moving forward with their art, no matter what obstacles they face or preconceived notions of greatness they hold.

Chapter 17 discusses doubt further. One strategy for managing self-doubt is to manipulate the stakes. A small piece of work should be viewed as a stepping-stone to more work, not as the end all creative output because “[a]ll art is a work in progress” (78). Artists need to find joy and play in their work while maintaining disciplined practices of awareness and creation.

Rubin recommends labeling self-doubt to overcome it. Rubin references the Buddhist concept of papancha, translated in the text as, “a preponderance of thoughts” (79). By giving this phenomenon a name, artists can address the issue with clear language that makes it easier to evaluate and resolve. Furthermore, the acceptance of self-doubt can lead to creative production because this emotion becomes source material. Most importantly, the artist’s “desire to create must be greater than [the] fear of it” (79). Rubin stresses that artists can doubt the work but not themselves. Doubting the quality of work is an opportunity for improvement; doubting the self is an impediment to realizing potential because the artist ceases to pursue self-improvement. As an example, Rubin refers to Japanese pottery, or kintsugi: repairing broken ceramics by applying gold between the cracks. The flaws of the pottery become the focus of aesthetic and material strength; so too should the artist perceive their flaws as opportunities for expressions of beauty.

Chapter 18 recommends the intentional strategy of diverting attention, using meditation to express his argument. When meditating, practitioners often use a mantra to distract the mind from pervasive thoughts. The mantra, by Rubin’s account, is a beneficial distraction that diverts attention from harmful distractions. Artists should practice distracting themselves when faced with a creative impasse. Rubin gives physical examples, including “driving, walking, swimming, showering, washing dishes, dancing, or performing any activity we can accomplish on autopilot” for this technique (86). The final page contains a line of verse that encapsulates the entire message of the chapter: “Sometimes disengaging / is the best way to disengage” (87).