Bending the rules

“Finite players play within boundaries; infinite players play with boundaries.”
James P. Carse “Finite and Infinite games”

Last week, I missed a deadline for a research funding proposal by several days. Originally, I was not planning to apply at all, but as I worked on a larger research plan, it became apparent that it would be great to add an ultra-high-speed camera to our arsenal. It also became apparent that I wouldn’t get the needed info from the supplier in time to meet the deadline. Being a good academic citizen, I asked the administration for an extension. No answer. Being in addition an optimist, I interpreted the lack of response as a go-ahead. After all, nobody said “no”. Long story short: I wrote the proposal, and it was accepted despite being late. That’s not a guarantee that we’ll get the funds, by the way, but did I mention that optimism is important?

I think that mild disregard for the rules is required for progress, generally speaking. It is very much in the spirit of Steve Jobs’ “reality distortion field”, brilliantly documented by Walter Isaacson. When told by his team that a certain goal was not possible due to various objective reasons, Jobs would still insist on pressing forward, ultimately proving everyone wrong (not always, but often). It is liberating to remind yourself that you are always free to make the rules of the game you are currently playing a mere component of a larger, encompassing game. As James Carse writes, “There are no rules that require us to obey rules.”

It is also easy to assume that the rules are there even when they are not. I am taking a painting class, where we copy a Rembrandt’s self-portrait. The other day, I was transferring a pencil sketch onto a canvas. To check the proportions, I projected the original painting on top of my sketch using a digital projector. In the end, I was quite pleased with the result and showed it to my mother (“Look mom, no hands!” kind of feeling). “Are you allowed to use that?” she asked pointing at the projector. I thought that it was ironic that we assume, by default, that using modern technology constitutes cheating when our goal is to study the work of old masters. I remember reading (also in a biography by Isaacson) that Leonardo da Vinci and his contemporaries went to great lengths to invent and build contraptions for projecting original images on their canvasses for copying. Some even went as far as making sketches of Florentine cityscapes on pieces of semi-transparent fabric stretched across a window. I am convinced that if Leonardo, Rembrandt or Van Gogh had access to an optical projector they would definitely use it.

On training and education

“To be prepared against surprise is to be trained. To be prepared for surprise is to be educated.”
James P. Carse “Finite and Infinite Games.”

One of the most rewarding aspects of art, painting in particular, for me is that the outcome is always somewhat different from the mental image of the finished product that I start out with. It is fascinating to see that the little details that initially seem out of place and that I try to fix in order to make them fit my original idea gradually begin to work with each other and eventually form a harmonious image, albeit different from what I imagined at first. This gradually revealed surprise is what makes it worthwhile to spend hours on a painting.

I recently took a figure painting course, and worked on a painting for about fifteen hours on and off, yet it’s far from being finished. Watching it take shape and being constantly surprised is what makes me going. In contrast, I routinely take hundreds of photographs during a single sports match or a dance class. What makes me engaged in that case is trying to become better at taking photos, so that my result is more predictable – I anticipate interesting action moments, compose and expose the shots better, develop a more efficient workflow. In other words, in photography I am mainly working on avoiding surprises, while in art I am working to cultivate them.

Of course, this is only true generally-speaking. In fact, I also work on developing my painting technique and really enjoy the unexpected shots that I capture with my camera every now and then. Still, this difference in how we treat unexpected events in our lives is remarkable. I started noticing it after I’ve picked up James Carse’s book “Finite and Infinite Games” couple of weeks ago. It’s one of the most deeply insightful books I’ve read in a while. Perhaps, it’s at the level similar to Robert Pirsig’s “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,” which is a very high bar as far as I am concerned.

Definition of creativity

Couple of days ago, I listened to an interview with Chase Jarvis, who gave an insightful definition of a creative process. A creative endeavour needs to have an idea-forming stage, a planning stage, and an execution stage. In addition, it needs to involve problem-solving during the execution. This definition is very broad, so it captures activities outside the realm of arts, which if what typically comes to mind when people think about creativity. For example, computer coding would easily qualify as a creative process. Ironically, I am struggling to fit martial arts into this definition, even though it has the word “art” in it. It might be because of how I personally have been approaching my kendo training – literally, not being creative enough to make the practice my own.

Being creative attracts and enables more creativity. When we take photos, sketch or play music, we not only become better at it and therefore can enjoy it more fully, but we also notice more opportunities to engage in these activities. This way, creativity really changes our lives in a tangible way. Chase talked about his mom, who became more outgoing, started to enjoy travelling, etc., because she initially developed an interest in taking photos and sharing them online. We personally met an airport mechanic-turned-painter in Milan, who has been a huge inspiration for my daughter and myself. This idea of exercising creativity like a muscle is similar to the abundance mindset evangelized by Peter Diamandis: doing creative things opens up an abundance of creative opportunities.

Creativity is woven in to the mundane details of everyday life. What matters is doing things with attention and intention rather than forcing a pretentious all-or-nothing artistic lifestyle on oneself, like wearing a beret and moving to Paris to surround oneself with a high art community. Because creativity is hidden in the small details, it makes sense to start small. Case gives an example: if you are an engineer, who dreams of opening a cafe (which would be a very creative thing to do), it would be a poor decision to quit your job, take out a lease on the building and to start running a business, about which you probably know very little. Instead, he suggests to begin baking scones and inviting friends over for brunch for ten Sundays in a row to test how it would feel. Taking things to the next level would be so much easier after you have had some first-hand experience with the core activity of the. Basically, we don’t need to make drastic changes to our lives to live creatively.

Maybe it is easy for me to say, because I am lucky to have both my main job (academic research) and hobbies that squarely fit into Chase’s definition of a creative process. Even so, I find that I often have to remind myself to do what Tim Ferriss’ favourite note to self says: “Notice the best part.”

Resistance

This drawing had been “in progress” for months. It had been sitting on top of the table, with pencils and markers all ready to go. It was a textbook case of resistance, as it is described in “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield. I always managed to find an excuse not to come back to the drawing. Clearly, it was easier to continue doing whatever I had been doing at the moment. This was despite our moving the art studio from the ground floor of the house closer to the space where we spend most of our time.

It turned out that it didn’t take much time to finish the drawing – only a couple of hours during the Thanksgiving long weekend. One curious thing that I noticed, though, is that sustained focus on drawing requires endurance of sorts, and that my capacity for it diminishes if it is not exercised regularly. Having a long, uninterrupted chunk of time for drawing is a luxury in my case. Yet, I could draw with full focus and “flow” only for about 30 minutes at a time, before beginning to wish for a break.

Keep drawing

My daughter’s Grade 2 teacher mentioned an interesting observation: as children grow up, they begin to write more and better. At the same time, they tend to include fewer pictures in their work, because they think it makes their writing look more “grownup“. However, research apparently shows that those kids, who can draw well also become better writers. This is because their visual memory and imagination are more developed, which helps with creating stories and verbal images.

This makes me think, once again, that sketching is a valuable exercise for adults too. The skill of observation, which is arguably the most important skill for scientists, engineers, artists, writers and pretty much anyone involved in creative work, include taking notes. This is the phase where information is converted to knowledge. I read some time ago (I think, in “Smarter Faster Better”) that manipulating the information, engaging with it is the key step. Curiously, it not important how the information is engaged with. As long as we spend time playing with the new data, we are extracting knowledge from it. It is then only logical that sketching complements verbal note-taking by developing our capacity for observing what is going on around us and eventually transmitting what we learn to others.

So here it is, putting theory to practice. This is my daughter amusing herself with a puzzle, while having a snack. The chameleon is imaginary.

Meta-art

As I am going through my photos from a recent dance performance, I notice a counter-intuitive and somewhat ironic trend: while motion is an essential and arguably most important feature of dance, some of the best photos are those that literally take motion out of the picture by freezing it. I think this is because most interesting photos show the viewers something that they cannot see otherwise. Naturally, they can see the motion and listen to the music while watching the dance performance itself. But an instant frozen in a photo offers something else – an opportunity to see how the dancer’s expressions reflect their effort at that particular moment or the state of flow they are experiencing.

Another thing that I notice is that dance, being an art form, is a pleasure to photograph. It feels like I have less pressure on me as a photographer to create a beautiful image, because even if my photography is unremarkable, the subject itself is already beautiful to begin with. Perhaps, this is why Emily Carr was criticized by her contemporaries for painting totem poles – the idea making art the subject of art was a bit ahead of her time.

Favourite things to do

My daughter asked what was my favorite thing to do when I was a child (she said that she knew that now my favorite thing to do was hugging her and kissing my wife). I thought that it was an excellent question, because, according to many experts, what people want to become at the age of nine or so is a good predictor of their natural tendency, curiosity and, therefore, a reasonable direction for developing a career or at least taking up as serious hobby.

My favourite pastimes when I was nine were drawing/painting and reading books. I suppose it is not surprising that both of them are still high on my list. Reading widely is also kind of a requirement in my job as a professor. I am glad that I do not depend on art to make a living, though. This is not (only) because I doubt my ability to do so effectively, but because I suspect that it is difficult for creative curiosity to survive under the pressures of doing art as the main job.

Learning experience

Last week, I was eager to try out my new markers, which I got as a birthday present. So I started drawing a portrait of my daughter, based on a photo that I took in Sindney, where she was holding a scooter and squinting into the sun. I did a pencil sketch, and it looked pretty good, so I was quite pleased. When I started shading it with markers, though, the colours on her face came out so dark, that I immediately declared the drawing ruined, and tore it apart in a classical Georgia O’Keeffe fashion. Even though I know that it is important not to become attached to the final product and instead to treat each artistic project as a learning experience, it is amazing how easy it is to start expecting pleasant surprises at the end of every drawing session.

Anyway, one lesson learned from this: don’t be in a rush to destroy things because (a) they don’t look that bad the next day when seen with fresh eyes, and (b) many mistakes are actually correctable, even with such media as markers.

  • More seriously, a couple of things to keep in mind when drawing are:
  • Maintain subtlety of the colours and the tones seen in the subject. It is easy to become too excited and over-paint things.
    Throw away the idea of creating a pretty picture. This seem counter-intuitive, but it is actually somewhat similar to sutemi in kendo – abandoning the idea of winning and throwing yourself completely into the attack.

It actually took me some concentrated thinking and watching a few YouTube videos to somewhat come to grips with blending the markers. i also decided to zoom in on the portrait to keep things more manageable for my next attempt. Here is the result.

Content vs design

The other day, we have been talking to a graphic designer about our magazine, and she mentioned the two basic approaches to putting an issue together – content first and design first. The former is about writing stories, the latter is about art.

I realized that it is a useful framework for other creative projects as well. For example, with blogging, I’ve been thinking that a neat productivity hack would be focus the posts around photographs. Simply letting the images speak for themselves and, at the extreme, allowing the viewers create their own narrative about them if they want. That would be analogous to the ‘design first’ approach.

Yet I personally prefer reading stories illustrated by images to watching slideshows with extended captions. Besides, every image has a story behind it, even if it is not necessarily a profound one. For example, this sketch could stand on its own, just as my doodling impression of a sunny day at the beach. But what makes it meaningful for me is that I made it trying out my birthday present – a set of design pens markers.

Frozen

I’ve been walking across campus for several years now, but apparently there are still curious spots along the way that I haven’t noticed before. The reason is that as I walk from point A to point B, I almost alway take the same route. The force of habit acts as an autopilot of sort. A couple of weeks ago, I realized that my familiar route from the office to the gym is not the shortest one. There were some corners to be cut and diagonals to extend. Not that I was wasting a lot of time before, but the new route I found was was, perhaps, a minute or so faster, so as an engineer, I was compelled to increase the efficiency.

As a result, I discovered for myself a neat sculpture of a whale’s tail sticking out of the pond. I thought that it looked slightly comical, being obviously out-of-scale with the tiny body of water the implied animal is supposed to occupy. It reminded me of the monster-infested swamp on a planet in Dagobah star system, where Luke Skywalker crash-landed his x-wing fighter in Empire Strikes Back. Last week, we had a rear cold spell, and the sculpture looked even more fantastic, with the tail sticking out of the ice. A frozen motion indeed!