Read time: ~ 6 min. of your LIFE

[Issue #20240112]

I told you I'd be back.

This two-day extravaganza already feels kind of weird, doesn't it?

We'll see if I can keep this up (I hope you don't mind me experimenting).

Reader, yesterday we talked about Charles Ives and AI chatbots.

It was a weird time.

But more importantly, we talked about the importance of space in creativity, whether that's making space for creativity or taking space away from it.

~(If you haven't yet read yesterday's newsletter, I highly suggest you check it out. You can also find it here.)~

Today we're gonna dig a little more into it (+ exclusive audio of my music!!).

True self-care starts here:

The Creative Phenomenon

Every creative has experienced this (if you've been doing it long enough):

You're working on a creative project, laboring endlessly to come up with a great idea. Or, perhaps you already have the idea, but you find yourself stuck, in need of a creative solution. After some time, you step away from actively working on the project to do something else. And suddenly, in this space away from the work, the idea you've been looking for pops into your head.

Weird, isn't it?

The idea comes, seemingly, out of nowhere.

The Muse or God or the Universe (or all three) grants you your wish.

It's as though you needed time away to let your mind work on the problem.

Your subconscious mind churns along in the background even though you're not actively working to find the solution.

But you still had to work at it yourself, as if signaling to your brain that this project is important.

Most of my musical ideas come to me this way.

I'm always improvising away at the piano, but 3/4 of the time, the idea I'm looking for doesn't arrive that way.

No, you aren't crazy.

You aren't the only one.

Every creative has experienced this.

And guess what?

This process has a name:

It's called "Incubation."

I'm sure you've heard of this word, but if you're like me, you think back to grade school, waiting for chicks to hatch in a temperature-regulated environment, emerging from the cracked eggshells with a cute face and round, yellow body.

But in the creative process, "incubation" refers to this creative phenomenon we're talking about, where your conscious thinking on the work is followed by a period of unconscious processes while you're taking a break and doing something else.

You return with new insights that contribute to or directly solve the solution to our creative problem.

But don't just take my word for it.

It's been studied.

I never knew this process had a name.

All I knew was that this was a real thing.

It had to be.

I'm not the only one who has talked about it.

But rarely have I heard people refer to it as "incubation."

Now I'm wondering how many creatives know about this...

And when you think about it, it's not much different from the process of hatching an egg.

We produce the "egg" through our conscious work on the problem, and the time away from the work contributes to the incubation process.

It sounds counterintuitive, but our space away is what keeps the idea warm.

The idea that just "comes to us" is no different from the moment an egg hatches.

The chick emerges from the eggshells, taking a life of its own, and it's now our duty to nurture that idea and allow it to become the best it can be.

Or else, it dies. (oh no!!)

The shower, Reader. The shower.

Have you ever noticed that these ideas typically arrive when you're engaged in certain downtime activities?

For many creatives, it'll happen when we're in the shower.

Or perhaps you're journaling, walking, exercising, (trying) to meditate, watering a plant, or in an Airplane bathroom (speaking from experience).

Now you have to pull out your phone and capture the idea before it's gone forever.

These are breeding grounds for creativity during the incubation process.

Turns out, it has a name as well: diffuse thinking (or unfocused attention).

Diffuse thinking is pretty much the same as incubation, but it refers specifically to the mind being in this "relaxed state" during these activities, which allows your thoughts to wander (and the unconscious processes to do their job).

Basically, if you're in a relaxed state and doing anything but the work, your unconscious processes are more likely to help you return to the work.

What does this mean for us? (Final Thoughts)

Space space space, my friends.

To me, this just proves that ideas don't really come from us, but to us.

And it comes when we interact with nature, with Source, with the natural order of things.

Sure, we can find a great idea while staying engaged in the process, but don't underestimate just how creative you can get when you collaborate with the Muse rather than fight her.

It's like playing an instrument.

The best pedagogues will tell you to work with the instrument rather than bend it to your will.

Your embouchure (the formation of a musician's mouth/lip muscles as they play their instrument) is at its best when it's reacting fluidly to the air pressure/resistance shooting back at you as you play.

When I say things like "creativity is forced," people get the wrong idea.

I'm not telling you to work for eight hours straight until you find a solution.

Clearly, it won't work that way.

"Forcing creativity" simply means showing up.

And showing up seriously.

Actually trying.

Not waiting to be "inspired."

Action breeds motivation, and space enhances creativity.

It's a delicate balance.

If this creative project/endeavor is important to you, you must do the work.

Because here's the thing:

Incubation/Diffuse thinking won't work for you if there's nothing to work on.

A SHORT STORY (EXCLUSIVE AUDIO AHEAD!!!)

The other day I spent all night orchestrating and drafting an idea for a Wind Ensemble piece that came to me.

And actually, I've had this idea for months.

For those of you who don't know, I'm an Army Reserves Musician.

In the Army, there's a basic, 3-week course you have to take in order to be promoted to "Sergeant" rank.

During this course, one of our instructors told us a sad story about one of his comrades who died in combat due to an ambush.

I don't mean for things to get all dark here, but I tell you this because it's this emotional story that sparked the idea for this piece.

A few days later, we were coming back from a combat training scenario in the woods. It was gloomy, gray-sky, rainy day. My platoon walked quietly in formation.

My mind wandered, and it was during this period of diffuse thinking that I thought back to the story of my instructor's fallen comrade.

A musical line spun around in my head.

I knew it'd be a flute.

I knew it'd be for a Wind Ensemble.

I knew the piece would be emotional.

And the moment I got back to my room, I sang that idea into a voice memo on my phone (as I do often).

That was September of last year.

It's only recently, as of a few days ago, in a moment of creative inspiration, that I suddenly had to drive to drop whatever I was doing and return to that idea.

I worked for four hours straight, deep into the night, to orchestrate the opening measures of the piece.

I was like a possessed madman, spilling everything out onto the page.

A title came to mind: (i know) how this story ends

It's about a tragedy.

It's about how that story made me feel.

It's about how I knew just where that story was going the moment my instructor began to tell it.

I tell you this not to tell a sad story but also to share some a creative lesson I learned:

Zooming out.

You see, it didn't matter what the message of the piece was.

The moment I got into the weeds of orchestrating the idea, I strayed away from the essence of the work.

I strayed away from that emotional core, that moving story that inspired the idea in the first place.

Why would I want to get away from that?

I didn't notice this until I zoomed out and listened to what I had as a whole.

I had to get my head out of the weeds and see the forest for the trees.

If you aren't careful, you'll create something so far removed from what you wanted to, and you'll wrongly judge the idea as a "bad" one.

No, it's just.."ill-advised." Or rather, "improperly maintained."

You didn't take enough steps back to view the piece as a whole.

You got too caught up in the process.

Basically:

Don't let the physical, manifestation process of the idea pull you away from the essence of the idea.

The great thing is that creativity is so delicate, one slight change can get you back on track.

That's what happened.

One thing I've wanted to do with this newsletter is share more of my music with you and show you the "behind-the-scenes" process.

In light of that, as a "treat," I want to share with you an audio file of what I've composed so far.

What you'll hear is a few seconds of an unfinished piece.

That's it.

I haven't touched it since the four hours I worked on it a few days ago.

It's a draft.

It's far from presentable.

I'm not even sure everything here will stay.

Towards the end of this audio clip, you'll hear a lot of the instrumentation die off because I'm very much so in the middle of things.

This is also not the most emotional-sounding bit of the piece that I envision.

This is the opening.

It's a declaration that builds.

But soon, we'll all know exactly where the work is heading.

We'll know where the story ends.

Reader, I hope you like where it's going, but if you hate it, do let me know as well :)

Here's the audio.

TRUE SELF-CARE STARTS HERE.

My Creative Corner:

~ 1 min. read

BIG NEWS: I joined a production company as their resident composer!!

My great friend, Charlotte Geissler, has been KILLING it with her production company, Slightly American Productions, winning all the short film awards and stuff.

For those of you who know me, film scoring is a passion of mine. I'm honored to join the company as their resident film composer.

I've scored one short film with them last year (which you can find here), and I'm currently scoring another! It's been a joy to work with them!

Recent Medium article:

How To Stop Feeling Sorry For Yourself in 2024 Because You "Wasted" 2023

Top post of the week:

Ephraim Champion

@ephraimchampion

Creatives, there’s a danger in going too fast, but no one talks about the danger of going too slowly.
You need a sense of urgency.
Go as fast as you can, but at a pace that’s still sustainable.
“Slow and steady” doesn’t win the race.
Just steady.