“As for courage and will – we cannot measure how much of each lies within us, we can only trust there will be sufficient to carry through trials which may lie ahead.”
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Distraction is one of my biggest struggles; something I grapple with on a daily basis. A few days ago, I posted how we as creatives need to choose to make time for our craft. I referred to time as the “currency for creation.” But there’s another metaphor that works just as well: time is the medium from which we craft our creative work. Without time we cannot produce—everything else: charcoal, oil paint, clay, wood, words, everything, is secondary to time. Yet, in an ever-connected world finding those moments can often feel difficult and overwhelming. When we do find the time it’s often fleeting, and we’re bogged down by distraction.
Those called to creation understand this on a very personal level. Obligations already eat away at the narrow slivers of time from which we hone our craft. And the siren call of distraction is always there to lure us away. Occupying oneself into idleness is easy. At the end of the day, the week, the month, the year one looks back and find themselves unfulfilled and wonders: what happened?
In the struggle of creation, eventually, the creator must learn to say ‘no.’
In the struggle of creation, eventually, the creator must learn to say ‘no.’ At first, it’s terrifying. In our culture of ‘yes’ a word like ‘no’ sounds final. (It’s not, but that doesn’t matter.) Your friends won’t get it. The family won’t understand. Entertainment and Social Media hate hearing ‘no,’ they feed off distraction. Our phones are abuzz with alerts demanding attention. The 24-hour news cycle wants you to believe everything is a crisis. Click ‘yes’ to receive alerts for this random website. It’s endless. Empathy for the creator—when it exists at all—is ephemeral. Dreams and drives get brushed aside as frivolous whims. Oh, that. That’s just a hobby. Nothing will come of that. Do that instead. Watch this. Come here. Go there. Play this. Guilt and shame are wielded with selfish abandon. But it’s for you! They say when really it’s for them.
It was so dumb I had to do it.
Facing those pressures is difficult. We’ve all crumbled and given in, and those slivers of time are lost forever. You don’t get them back. Hence, the lesson of ‘no.’ Learning to say ‘no’ allows us to set boundaries. It establishes what is important and it set priorities. It’s the first step in building a routine, making the work habitual, and living in the moment.
To be effective ‘no’ is something every creator has to master. Shut out the distractions. No, Twitter isn’t important. No, you don’t need to watch that latest reboot on Netflix. No, you don’t need to make that phone call. No, brunch isn’t necessary this weekend. Face the pressure head on, stand your ground, and make the choices for what matters to you. It’s important for our mental health. It’s important for the work. It’s important for creation. ‘No’ lets us carve out moments in time, and after all, time is the true medium.
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Most “rules” for writing are hyper-personal. What works for one writer will not work for another writer. We each discover our own path in the journey of creation and each path is as different as the person who walks it. But there is one bit of advice that remains true regardless of our course: to become a writer, you have to write.
That is a choice in itself. It doesn’t matter what we desire to do, if you’re driven to create then you have to participate in that act of creation. What you’re doing at that moment isn’t choosing to write but choosing the time to write. Time is the currency for creation. That applies to every creator working in any medium and is not restricted to writers.
Time is the currency for creation.
During the nineteenth-century labor movement, Robert Owen began the push for the eight-hour workday. It was he who coined the slogan “Eight hours labor, Eight hours recreation, Eight hours rest.” Since then, it’s been co-opted by labor movements and labor organizations across the world. Most artists I know have to work full-time jobs (sometimes many)—art is often secondary to that work. That leaves sixteen hours (if we’re lucky[1]) to divide between rest and creation. From the onset, many of us are already limited in the amount of time we can spend walking our path.
A group of Australian ‘red raggers’ (railway drivers and firemen) pose in front of an 888 banner symbolizing the divisions of the day, 1912. More info on Wikipedia
Time is finite. Once spent it cannot be reclaimed. If a creator is driven to create, then we need to learn to spend our time wisely. If we work full-time jobs, we’re already limited. We need to set priorities that permit us the time to create. That requires sacrifice. Choosing time means making sacrifices and cutting out other things that serve only as a distraction.
For me, that meant I quit playing video games. I stopped watching movies. Television went by the wayside. This year, I’ve significantly cut back on live sports as well—I no longer choose to sacrifice four hours to a football or baseball game, not when my time is limited.[2]
As with the individual’s path of creation, the path of sacrifice will be different for each creator. The choices you make will be personal. But you’re going to have to make them. In the end, it’s up to you. It’s your choice.[3]
1 This is a topic for another time, but I know many artists who have to work several jobs. For some it’s so they can afford health insurance, for others, it’s so they can afford food or rent. This only further limits their time, and further restricts their choices.
2 This isn’t to say you can’t enjoy these things. You can! I haven’t become a Luddite. But I treat each of these as rewards instead of as a lifestyle. That makes my time with each more special.
In 1943, American folk legend, Woody Guthrie wrote down a list of promises he wanted to keep for a good year. Not unlike the New Year’s resolutions people make today. The list is an interesting read, and I have a few observations. But first, check it out:
I am sure Guthrie never meant any of us to see this list. It’s intently personal and covers things like simple hygiene, financial decisions, and maintaining family relationships. However, I found it interesting how even Guthrie, who was a musical genius who inspired a generation of folk singers, has to encourage himself in his art. We can see how he wants to keep working hard, how he wants to continue to improve his craft. He mentions working on a schedule and staying productive. This from the father of folk music.
Many creatives struggle and get depressed when they see someone else celebrating their victories. Why does it seem so easy for them, but so hard for ourselves? We wonder why we can’t get something done or why it feels so difficult. But the truth of the matter is its hard for everyone. Even a genius like Guthrie struggled. We can see it in this list.
I think my favorite “rulin” is also some the most important advice we can take from this list and I believe it was the reason Guthrie was so successful with his music. Number thirty-three: wake up and fight. Every day.
“Look at your work and it tells you how it is when you hold back or when you embrace. When you are lazy, your art is lazy; when you hold back, it holds back; when you hesitate, it stands there staring, hands in its pockets. But when you commit, it comes on like blazes.”
As any creative there are times where I struggle. There are moments when I’m plagued with self-doubt, and there are instances where I grow frustrated. For many, being a creative can be particularly lonely. Thankfully, I am lucky enough to be married to an artist, and having Kari-Lise as my partner in this life has been an excellent balance for the two of us. For months (maybe years) whenever I have slumped into one of these holes, she has hounded me to read David Bayles and Ted Orland’s books, Art & Fear: Observations On the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking. In the past, I have shrugged off her suggestion for various (and in retrospect: dumb) reasons.
Recently, while wallowing in the midst of an especially dismal time, I finally gave in. I took Kari-Lise’s advice and decided to settle down to read this book. As she guessed, it was exactly what I needed. I finished it in two sitting, plowing through each page and finding myself nodding along.
If you’re a writer, painter, musician, crafter, whatever and you have struggled then you need to read this book. It’s not your typical self-help book. It is unpretentious and honest. It doesn’t shy away from the realities inherent in the struggle of creation and it presents the journey candidly. It also pushes any creator to continue the journey no matter what obstacles for reasons we somehow all know and often choose to forget. It’s a straightforward look at the art of making.
It’s very much worth the nine dollars to add this to your library. I know it’ll be something I often reference in the future. After finishing it, it was a no-brainer to add it to my list of recommendations.
It is here! It has arrived! I am so excited to share with you Overlooked Details: An Artist’s Journey, a documentary about my wife, Kari-Lise Alexander. I couldn’t be prouder of Kari-Lise and I am glad Scott Wilson gave her the opportunity to share her story. I think any creative will find her an inspiration. Full credits below the video. I recommend watching this full screen. Enjoy!
This is a story about resilience – about what it really takes to be an artist.
This is the story of Kari-Lise Alexander, an acclaimed oil painter whose work has been shown at international galleries. Along with her husband, author K.M. Alexander, and friend, woodworker Steve Leroux, Kari-Lise recounts her past and present struggles and shares what she’s learned along her journey. It’s not just talent. It will never be perfect. And success is not a destination.
MUSIC:
“Rise (Snowfall Remix)” performed by Tony Anderson, Licensed through The Music Bed
“Aura” performed by Blue-Noise, Licensed through iStock
SPECIAL THANKS:
Bellevue Fine Art (bellevuefineart.com)
Wallflower Custom Framing (wallflowercustomframing.com)
University of Washington Communication Leadership
Allison Fine
Mark George
Alex Stonehill
Sarah Stuteville
Want to stay in touch with me? Sign up for Dead Drop, my rare and elusive newsletter. Subscribers get news, previews, and notices on my books before anyone else delivered directly to their inbox. I work hard to make sure it’s not spammy and full of interesting and relevant information. SIGN UP TODAY →
K. M. Alexander 
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