Art begets art.
Creation creates more creation.
I’m learning that as I get on a regular routine of creation, or practice, I tend to want to create more. I’m developing confidence that I can create. I am a creator. Look, I do it every day. Oh, you want something else created? I can do that.
Of course, that’s my mind speaking to itself. When you’re doing it a bunch, and often, you know you can do it. And you can do more.
This is the real value of the practice.
Create, so you can create more.
Do you want to publish a book on Amazon?
Watch for one coming from me (or someone I know.)
There are a lot of things I haven’t done.
Let me re-phrase that. There are a lot of things I had the idea to do, planned on doing, then just didn’t follow through with it. (There are even more things I haven’t done that I haven’t thought of doing yet.)
There are a lot of things I have done.
So, have I done things because I’ve thought of a lot of things to do, and at least some of them have happened? Does the principle that the guy with the most home runs has the most strike-outs apply here? Or he who has the highest number of stolen bases also get thrown out the most?
Does a lot of success necessarily mean a lot of failure?
I saw a quote today that says, “Success and failure. We think of them as opposites, but they’re really not. They’re companions – the hero and the sidekick.” by Laurence Shames
To me, that means that in order to do great things, you need to do a lot of things.
And the way to do a lot of things is to get the ideas from your head out into reality, so they have some form and substance.
And the way to do that is to write.
That’s why blogging is so good for you.
There’s something really amazing about writing. Do you know what it is?
It’s like giving birth.
Kind of. (I don’t want to get too deep into the analogy here.) It’s like creating something, producing something. It’s taking your thoughts and pushing them out onto the paper (or screen.)
And sometimes it’s painful. It doesn’t come out right, or we might be a little ashamed of it. Why is it always uncomfortable when someone is standing over our shoulder, watching what we are writing? (Everyone knows the old trick of cupping your hand or holding your arm real close to your pencil when someone walks by or tries to look at what you’re writing.) Only after you are complete are you ready to show it to someone. But even then, it’s still a little unnerving because you hope they don’t make fun of it, or criticize it. It’s your baby.
And most people are sensitive to that with real babies. They don’t say, “Well that’s an ugly one, what did you create that for?” (Even though they may be thinking it.)
Everyone realizes that the process of giving birth and bringing a new child into the world is so amazing that it doesn’t matter what it looks like, this mother has done such a tremendous thing, she should be praised and honored. And what she produced should be loved, protected and handled with the utmost care.
Shouldn’t we treat other things that people create in the same way?
The other point is that producing something is exhilarating. Maybe because it’s so painful. Just like any great accomplishment. If it takes hard work, it feels good when you’re complete, and you can take pride in what you’ve accomplished.
If it’s easy, there’s no reward. No pain, no gain.
So I’d like to create more. I’d like to have more babies – mind babies – getting ideas from my mind out into the world.
That means writing and making things happen.
What about you?