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The Cycles of CreativityCynthia's Column October 2005 This Column was originally written in 1995 and reprinted in 2000. Since it is one of the things I teach that I continue to receive the most comments and thanks from writers for, I think maybe it should be reprinted every five years to remind us of our inner artists' natures. And for those who have recently joined us, here is a tool to help protect your inner artist from your inner editor in chief. As with all things in nature, creativity has its own natural cycles. When I started writing many years ago, I didn't understand this and tried to force my creativity to conform to my will and my timetable. But no matter how much force or willpower I exerted, it didn't work. It was like the old medicine man played by Chief Dan George in "Little Big Man" said: "Sometimes the magic works; sometimes it doesn't work. " It wasn't until a wise teacher of mine explained the cycles to me that I finally understood and began to work with my creativity instead of trying to force it to work for me. Creativity, like all of life perhaps, exists in a three-part circle. The first part is the inspired burst of creative inspiration. The new project. New idea. Your energy and enthusiasm are high. You could work till 1:time Hour="2" Minute="0" w:st="on">two a. m. you are so excited. This part of the cycle is symbolized by the Hindu religion as the god Brahma, the creator. The thrill of creative lightning striking. But unfortunately as we all know, this part of the cycle doesn't last forever. The second part of the creative circle is the work mode. You started this project in the glow of inspiration, but you have to see it through with just plain old sweat and hard work. Now that you no longer have the high, you just have to keep plodding through until the work is done. This part is symbolized by the Hindu god Vishnu, protector, preserver, restorer of order. The third part of the circle is the one most of us brought up on the American work-ethic have trouble with. It is the dissolve, stop, empty-out phase symbolized by Shiva, the destroyer. Most people (including myself) tend to find the concept of nothingness somewhat threatening. For myself, I have come to refer to this part of the cycle as the "Clearing the Decks" phase. I clean my desk. Clear space in my file cabinets or clean out cupboards. Or I go away for the weekend and just walk on the beach. It is necessary to clear your mind of all the work that has gone before. Only out of chaos or nothingness does that next great burst of inspiration come. "Like a bolt of lightning from a clear, blue sky. " Well, it's up to us to provide the "clear, blue sky. " We have been raised to think that work was all that was important. "Hard work would pay off. Write every day. Keep a schedule. Be disciplined. " Big surprise: It doesn't work that way. The inspired work is one third of the creative cycle. The continuing to work once the inspiration has cooled is one third. And the final, necessary third is the empty-out, stop working part of the cycle. Those artists who have not honored this have had problems. Some of them are Brahma addicts. They are hooked on the high of the new inspiration. I'm sure you have known people like this. They are always excited about some fabulous new project and don't seem to have any clue that they said the same thing a month ago about something else. And the month before that. They never look back or they'd see the trail of unfinished projects behind them. Then there are those who try to stay in the first two cycles continuously. Most of us think this is the way it should be. A great idea, followed by work, then another idea, then more work and on and on in an endless cycle of activity with no breaks at all. Artists who have tried to live like this generally burn out and die young, like Mozart or Keats. Kurt Cobain. Self-combustion occurs. Often in a blaze of glory, sure, but so much beauty gets lost in the process. So many things might have been created that never were. Others who try to stay in the Brahma/Vishnu cycles simply run out of inspiration while continuing to work endlessly, mourning the loss of the muse. We won't name names, but let's call it the Tennessee Williams Syndrome. Once great writers who outlived their best work. Sometimes by decades. Artists who live long productive lives, like George Bernard Shaw and Georgia O'Keefe, seem to understand the natural flow of creativity. The life cycle of art. Americans tend to ignore this natural cycle. The Puritan Work Ethic values Inspiration and Perspiration. Vegetation not so much. The most successful American playwright of the twentieth century was Neil Simon. He wrote dozens of hit Broadway plays and musicals, and every year from the very earliest days of his career he took the summer off. The whole summer. He became our most successful playwright in a hundred years by working seven months every year and then stopping for five. Really. Stopping. He did not lie on the beach making notes. We need to understand this as something to consider seriously as an alternative, artistic work ethic. Not fifty weeks on, two weeks off. I used to feel guilty when I wasn't writing, or disappointed when I had to finish a project that once seemed like magic and later seemed like work. But now that I understand the natural flow of writing, I enjoy the emptying out phase, knowing that soon another great burst of inspiration will take over. All three parts of the creative cycle are necessary to normal healthy creative work and growth. Instead of Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, some people prefer to call it the God Cycle. As in G. O. D. Generate. Operate. Dissolve. Whatever you call it, a two-week vacation once a year is not a luxury. Time to empty your creative mind every cycle, is a necessity. Every writer's cycles may have different lengths. Pay attention to your own inner clock and you will begin to recognize your own natural cycles. You may go through each of the three phases every few days or weeks or months. I don't know exactly how long my cycles are, and they differ in length. But I recognize them. And when my creative mind stops working, I stop working. And I clear the decks. Some very successful writers, like Stephen King, don't work this way. They power through, writing every day. Ten pages a day for King, 365 days a year. But there is another way. A way of honoring your own creativity. Not beating it with a stick or coaxing it with carrots. Paying attention to it. And working with its own natural cycle. Birth, life, death. If we were farmers, we wouldn't be breaking our backs trying to plow a frozen field in winter, would we? The cycle of creativity is as real as all other cycles in nature. Try giving up the battle. Make peace with your inner artist. Treat him or her with respect and dignity. See if magic doesn't happen. The god Brahma will reappear to you in a bolt of lightning, shimmering your inner landscape with light. Cynthia Whitcomb is president of Willamette Writers, and has had 29 of her screenplays produced. She is author of The Writers' Guide to Writing Your Screenplay and The Writers' Guide to Selling Your Screenplay. She teaches screenwriting classes at Portland State University.and through Willamette Writers. |