my invocation: an open call to your creative spark

This post first ran in May 2011 in response to Danielle LaPorte’s Firestarter Invocation.

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I believe that you have what you need.

I believe that you grow as you learn.

I believe that you learn as you act.
I believe that you are enough.

Our ideas are not empty vessels to pour ourselves into.

Our ideas are full + overflowing, ready to satisfy us.

Let us be liberated from assumption, the choices of others, and our perceived liabilities.

Click here to get your free download of Tara’s invocation.

reprise: bad artists copy. great artists steal.

In light of recent posts about artistic license and copyright (Are We Pinning Yet? and More Pinning by Liz Kalloch), we thought we’d reprise Gwyn Michael’s post from June 2011 for yet another perspective.

For those not familiar, the title is actually a quote by Pablo Picasso and has to do with drawing inspiration from something while putting your touch on it. I guess he should know. Picasso is often attributed as the Father of Cubism when in reality he and Georges Braque worked together on the theory and were directly influenced by Cezanne, who had begun breaking up the picture plane in less abstract ways.

I have been sitting on this topic for some time now and a recent post from Bridget Pilloud brought it to the forefront. Bridget’s post is about outright stealing, using another’s content as one’s own. As a visual artist this is a sticky topic for me.

The thing is, I was accused of stealing from someone that used to be a friend. I had created some new photo collages based on an idea I had in college, after seeing her do something that reminded me of it. My images and hers were very different but both were made from buildings, different buildings (of course, no one has made art from buildings before). I credited her as an influence and she accused me of stealing outright. This, by the way, all happened on flickr where actual stealing is a regular event.

I don’t agree with her and I did not take it personally, but it made me think long and hard about how we are influenced. I could have turned it around and claimed she stole my college idea which was influenced by I don’t know what at that time. Instead I let it go, but the concept has been nagging me since.

What is originality in art?

In this age we are so bombarded with imagery (artistic and not), music, ideas, and plain old stuff that it is impossible for me to entertain the notion of true originality. That is not to say I can’t be uniquely creative in my interpretations, but that I have been influenced is not a question. The image above contains a painting by Piet Mondrian on the top left, one by Van Gogh top right, one of mine from 2003 bottom left, and a photo collage of mine from 2009. Trees all, but not the same, although there are comparisons one could make: the use of blue, red, and gold, the textural qualities, the patterns of branches. While I love Mondrian and Van Gogh’s trees, I can’t say I had either in mind when creating my trees, yet they are in my memory bank. My point is, how can we know how much is coming through as collective experience?

Is art simply a manifestation of memory?

Are “original” concepts simply the rearrangement of our perception of what we have seen, heard, felt, and experienced?

Seth Godin has this to say about originality:

I get two kinds of mail about this. One group points to organizations or individuals who are stealing my ideas. “Stop them!” they say. The other doesn’t hesitate to point out that I’ve never had an original idea in my life, and that I’m merely a promotional hack.

Now, more than ever, we can see the work an artist (in any medium, any endeavor) produces over time. If all an artist can do is steal, the truth will out. For the rest, though, a lifetime of consistent provocation, inspiration and generosity can’t help but shine through. Inspirations and all.

I think this is what Picasso means by “great artists steal.”

Great artists steal – they take the idea, theme or pattern and they make it their own. When you steal, you take away the whole thing – this particular idea no longer belongs to the original author. You take it apart, you figure out how it works and you put it together adding your own unique touches. Now it is yours and once you are done with it no one will even remember it used to belong to someone else. You started with something that was not yours, but the end product can no longer be called a copy, imitation or knock of because it stands on it’s own. You’ve successfully stolen something, and gotten away with it.
- Luke Maciak

If this is the case then why is it still such a sticky topic? In my case, I am not really concerned that my work will be copied. Posting everything I do on a website and elsewhere on the internet makes it unlikely it won’t be. Rather, it really upset me to be accused of stealing. I don’t know how one can clearly define the space between inspired work and out-right forgery. I like what Jim Jarmusch has to say:

Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don’t bother concealing your thievery – celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take them to.”
— Jim Jarmusch

I think I can agree that originality is obscure at best, at least in the way it has been defined. Perhaps a new definition of originality can be created? Or maybe we can agree that “All creative work is derivative” and just get on with creating our art?

What does originality in your work mean to you?

How do you incorporate influence, inspiration, and experience in your work in new ways?

From Conception to Birth

When I talk about project management, most of the focus is on the mechanics and techniques of planning and completing work. That’s the easy part. A series of big deadlines over the last two months has reminded me that the biggest challenge to getting work delivered is overcoming the psychological hurdles.

Delivering work. I find it appropriate that shipping work is referred to using the same term often used to describe having a baby. Although I’ve never had one myself, I’ve heard many a birth story and have seen enough movies that outline the basic steps to see some clear analogies.

Conception. The fun part! Ideas are plentiful and easy to come by (usually.) The folks over at the 99% got it right when they identified that the problem for most creatives is that they have too many ideas! We are constantly getting knocked up with ideas.

Gestation. Once an idea grabs hold, although there might be some discomfort, producing is pretty automatic. Like a growing baby, the idea gets fleshed out. You sketch, mock up concepts, and start really giving your idea some life by blocking out the basic parts: the heart, brain, and limbs of your initial concept.

Delivery. The hard part. This is the scene in the movie when the woman starts screaming at her husband for ‘doing this to her’ and may even feel like giving up. But there is no turning back; you simply have to push…PUSH! You have to push through all of your resistance, your doubt, your exhaustion, your fear, your pain, your anxiety and get that completely formed, glorious, screaming idea out into the world.

If you don’t have anything niche to say…

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Thank you, internet. You put birds of a feather at our finger tips (wing tips?).

Wanna know how another designer launched her new product line? You can read all about it on her blog, in her ebook, or even reach out to her and ask her about it.

The people we are able to find — it’s amazing. It’s convenient. It’s inspiring. It’s practical. It’s…limiting?

It can fast track your business to get insider tips from experienced pros. But there’s a lot more out there. More opinions, more strategy, and more ideas than your usual crowd or business idols can offer.

Are you niching yourself out of insight?

Imagine you have the experience of that already-launched-it-designer; let’s not drop her for the sake of novelty. But imagine that you also have the brainpower from the savvy mom at play group, the enterprising college senior who interns for your brother, and the neighbor with three failed start-ups who finally went for a teaching job. You just might hear The Thing you need to hear from them that solves your problem or helps you break through to the next level of your biz.

And you just might hear it because no one in your niche is thinking it.

You know about the forest and the trees, right? Sometimes it pays to ask a fish.

You don’t need to go around polling everyone who looks sorta intelligent. But you can cultivate a list of go-tos to contact when you’re stuck around something. What if you had three to six brains you trust on speed dial, ready to weigh in when niche is not enough? Powerful stuff.

You tell us: have you peeked outside your niche for help? Which fish can you put on speed dial?

Gathering light,

Do You Honour Your Own Vision?

A few years ago I worked on a project that I was totally and completely in love with. A series of cards that I also envisioned as a boxed set and further saw as journals. I dove into the project open-hearted and fully excited. I had an art director at a large stationery publisher who was interested, and I spent a few months fully engaged, totally jazzed and working hard.

The project went for design review, and was rejected.

I spent a bit of time totally disappointed and ended up putting the project aside, thinking, “Huh, well that didn’t work out.” I put all my sketches and finished mock ups in a box and moved along to other things.

Earlier this year, I found the box of sketches and mock ups and got totally excited all over again. I stopped and listened to how I felt. I still wanted to make these cards, that desire hadn’t gone away, and maybe, just maybe, that said more than the initial rejection of the work. I made some changes to the original project and decided to release the cards in my Etsy shop. The format has totally been transformed but the idea is still there – a series of astrology birthday cards (you can find them here) and they are starting to sell. What gives me the most pleasure is the e-mails I have received from people telling me things like: wow, this is just what I’ve wanted to find in a birthday card!

So the thing that I got to thinking about is this:

Leaving aside prevailing trends and the overall market, what is it that makes an idea fly?

Is it enthusiasm and perseverance? If the idea is a physical product, is it about unveiling the idea and then making changes as needed to fit the current market? Is there an aspect of kismet involved? Or is it all of the above, and probably more?

I have found that holding onto a vision — for a project, a collaboration, anything really — can be tricky. There is the need to stand fully behind it, feet planted, sleeves rolled up and an excitement about getting to work, and at the same time to hold the vision loosely in my hands, to see what it wants to become, to see where it wants to go.

I believe that a vision, or an idea, doesn’t want to be strangled, or pigeon-holed; it wants to fly.

I think that anyone who has had a vision for something would say that their vision takes on a life of its own, and being able to allow it to lead you a bit, is just as important as the initial idea. Much of this listening to a vision is also linked to being able to hear your own inner voice. Being able to get in touch with your own self, and listen to the wisdom that resides there. The key for me is to step away from the opinions and the feedback, away from looking at what other people are doing, away from what is trending, and what is popular, and listen to what excites me. Listen to what makes me feel positive and energised.

So here is the current question that I put out to a group of artists and entrepreneurs:
Do you have a product that you created and love, but it’s not moving; or a service that you offer that no one is taking you up on; a partnership that is feeling stagnant, or an area of your business that you are just not reaping any rewards from? How do you know if it’s time to let something go? How do you know if it’s time to cut bait and move on, or if it’s time to be patient and keep working?

We are all bound to hit a figurative wall every now and then. There are too many obstacles to overcome to complete a project that it seems impossible. You begin to dread working on something that you’d normally love. When this happens to me, I take a break. I put it away for a few days, both physically and mentally. If it was something I really care about, I find myself filled with desire to get back to that project. If I still experience that dread or even indifference, I typically let that go because my heart wasn’t in it to start with.

Christen Olivarez is a writer/editor/lover of life.

* * * * * * *

A simple truth about me: sewing and fabric make me very very happy. When I began sewing again after a 20 year break, people started asking me to sell the bags and aprons I was creating. I was so delighted by their requests (and it meant playing with more fabric!), so suddenly there were many assembly lines of created items that found there way to my Etsy shop and some in-person shows. With each weekend spent creating the same items on repeat that I was “convinced” would sell at a particular upcoming show (items that might not have been creations I would have made for myself), my love of sewing turned into a part-time job I wasn’t sure I wanted.

Finally, after just breaking even at a big show, I decided to stop the assembly lines and participating in shows for a while. I spent some time away from sewing and began focusing on other aspects of my business. As those aspects began to thrive, I turned to sewing when I wanted to just have fun in my studio. I now believe that the reason I didn’t have success at a few shows in the past was partly because the audience could sense that the joy wasn’t there for me. Now, I take my own “joy temperature” when in the midst of a project and I make adjustments when I sense joy isn’t one of my guides.

Liz Lamoreux is a creator, a teacher, a writer.

* * * * * * *

About ten years ago, I had a flash of inspiration to create live paintings at weddings, paintings that are inspired by the special moments and colors of each unique wedding. I mulled the idea over for awhile, and eventually “practiced” at one of my close friend’s weddings. They loved it, and through word of mouth, I did about five more wedding paintings over the course of several years.

Over the past couple years, I’ve had some inquiries, but no takers on the wedding paintings. I’ve realized that as much as I enjoy creating these live paintings, it’s actually a lot of work and a lot of pressure! Perhaps my heart is not totally in it, and this is why the business has slowed down? It’s so important to stay present to where your passion truly lies and remember that this is an ever-evolving process.

Flora Bowley is an internationally celebrated painter, teacher, and inspirationalist, and is currently writing a book entitled, “Brave Intuitive Painting: Let Go. Be Bold. Unfold.”

* * * * * * *

I think that a person should only really let something go if they feel dispassionate about it themselves or if it no longer makes them happy. If the product/service/business pursuit is still filling you up with joy and excitement and love, why ditch it? I have faith that potential clients and consumers will eventually pick up on the fact that you’re stoked and then become stoked themselves. So it’s really a question of whether or not what you’re pursuing is good for YOU, if that makes sense.

For example: I created a series of small paintings a few years ago that no one seemed to like as much as I did. But they made me really happy to create, so I kept going with them. Not even a year later, a few of those paintings were recognized in Communication Arts magazine when they did a feature on my work. In fact, the story idea stemmed from one of those paintings!

Penelope Dullaghan is a former art-director turned award-winning freelance illustrator who chronicles her artistic development at her website, Penelope Illustration.

* * * * * * *

How do you know? I think you have to make space for knowing. A few months ago I started feeling unsatisfied with a project that’s taken up a lot of my time without a lot of success. At first I wanted to either lean hard into the project, knowing I hadn’t given it my complete all, or just stop, drop, and go after something different. In the end, after some thought and discussion, I went for a different and new-to-me approach: taking a break, a hiatus, without doing anything rash.

That “middle ground” is not, as I’d feared, waffle-y or indecisive at all—it’s actually rich and powerful, a space for me to just be creative without a goal, and attend to other aspects of my life that have been a little neglected. I’ve discovered more in this space than I would have by either keeping going or stopping, including huge inspiration and clarity on said project. Even with that clarity, I’m still sticking with the timeline I’d created for my break instead of rushing back to work, because I don’t know what else I might discover in this process—and I’m loving it on its own.

Maeg Yosef is an artist, illustrator, writer, wife, and mama living and loving in Western Massachusetts.

So, what is exciting you? What is calling to you? Is there a project that you gave up on because of feedback you received, but it’s still near and dear to your heart? What are you being called to create that might not be on a trend cusp so you are hesitating? Perhaps it’s time to stand up (shoulders back) and begin that something, or perhaps it’s time to take a break and listen to your own heart. Whichever is the case, we’d love to hear your stories.