How to Not Hate Art
Reflections on burnout, and avoiding it
We can say we live in a violent era, but people have succumbed to destructive tendencies as long as we have existed. We hunt, we hurt, and we destroy. That is part of our nature as humans. The other side of the coin is that we feed, we love, and we create. That also makes us human.
This dichotomy in it’s contradiction can be frustrating, and seemingly antithetical to the creative life that many desire. How can two things that are so different exist simultaneously, if not harmoniously? I myself have marveled at these two raging waters, very much present in my own life.
Besides the struggle to grasp these stark contrasts, obtaining daily access to our innate creativity can feel impossible. The world we live in also disrupts our passage to our creative nature. Companies would probably have us pay a subscription to access this part of our brains if they could. Fortunately, our minds belong to us.
Back when I was home in Japan, I came face to face with many things within my own mind.
I felt the depths of burnout, which lead to a stark reset. My brain, heart, body, ceased to understand how to function. This period was, in many ways, a spiritual death. But the kind of spiritual death that is equivalent to dying by getting run over by an ambulance. There was irony and humor in there somewhere.
This type of burnout is unique to this age. There was never an observable period in time where our creativity has been so grossly monetized, and individuals left stripped of their own devices. I’ve had a staggering amount of conversations with artists whose sentiments towards their own work were “What’s the use?”.
So many wonderful perspectives and aesthetics, with very little motivation to put any of that energy in action, or to be made to feel that everything has to go into the social media and content bucket—a container with many holes drilled into the bottom. But also an incredible vessel that uplifts many.
In this way of thinking, killing inspiration becomes as easy as taking bug spray to flies. So the question is how can we not become the fly? Or, how can we avoid the spray?
As I am slowly coming out the other end, a type of thaw is finally underway. But in many senses my own creative immune system is vulnerable, but I am finally waking up after a long sleep.
I have a few notes for myself, a list of things to do to avoid hating art, or making it. This advice is simple but empirical; oftentimes that type of advice is difficult to apply because there are many types of lives, many ways to think, feel, and behave.
In this day and age, we are swayed in multiple directions, and are lead to believe in everything except ourselves. Henry James in his book “A Portrait of a Lady” has echoed a similar sentiment: “He’s the victim of a critical age. He has ceased to believe in himself and he doesn’t know what to believe in.”
By no means is the list below complete. It also isn’t necessarily a guideline for figuring out what to believe in (I often fail to apply them myself) but I know that they are important, and I strongly believe that if I were more loyal to them, I would only be better off.
It is the with the utmost importance that you go to nature.
We are heavily persuaded by modern society of our God-like dominion over nature, with our modern buildings, telephone lines and gritty asphalt. But it is a distraction. We are nothing without nature, even as we attempt to deny the tapestry of our evolution.
The body is ancient, and with it comes ancient longings, tendencies, and physical necessities. You may not be aware of it on a conscious level.
In your anguish, visit the true sovereign and holy places on earth: Places with soft black soil, where leaves are not swept away but allowed to turn into mulch. Where the only sounds present are the rustling of trees from frightened birds, or the gurgling sound of water from a brook. See it in every state, in the mornings as the mist rises from sleeping earth, to the evening when the sun kisses the horizon, and disappears from view. Your body will recognize itself again.
Be by yourself.
I spent the majority of my life fairly isolated on a mountain in Japan. I didn’t know how much of a social person I was because I couldn’t exercise my extroversion. The people who are new in my life may not entirely believe me when I vocalize how important it is to be by ones lonesome— I am so often not alone now— but I know it to be a crucial ingredient in creativity.
Sometimes we spend so much time with other people, borrowing behaviors and ideologies. I didn’t have that for a large portion of my upbringing—at least not in the way that most people have. For most of my life, I have been relatively solitary, and upon reflection it is those times that I was able to be most myself, and when I was able to come up with my better ideas. The only echo in the cave was my own.
Do not compromise your writing.
The internet bombards everyone with writing rules on how to get people to read in the modern age. Everyone has developed shamefully short attention spans so we have developed a wide range of gimmicks to trick ourselves into reading. [Short sentences.] Bold text. A 5-step solution.
Writing that panders to our weaknesses helps no one.
When I think about my relationship with literature, my mind brings me back to many years ago when I read The Scarlet Letter. I was so touched by the writing that I remember clutching the book through several chapters, as my tears wet the pages. Nathaniel Hawthorne was able to beautifully bring the pain of the shunned Hester Prynne into my own heart, a woman who was like many women in history, ostracized for a sin of the times. That type of literature changes the psyche on a fundamental level, and can bring us to empathy. Little bridges from our minds, into the hearts of others.
Make something with your hands.
Draw with pencil. Sculpt things from sand. Grow a plant. Make a voodoo doll. Brake a plate. Literally do anything in the physical world. Keep yourself active in the present. Use every sense you have.
When I was back home in Nara, and has access to much more space, I was always building something. That is the part of my past that I am always silently mourning. I wish I knew fully how wonderful that time was. While I didn’t take it for granted, I want to shake my past self just a little bit: What you are living through is special! Do not squander it! It’s been a while since I had access to that life after traveling so much.
The use of our senses is the only thing that connects us to this world, it is how we make sense of what is around us. But each year that passes, physical things are being taken away from daily use. Why have a menu when you can scan a QR code? Rebelling against this as much as you is the lubricant for a creative mind.
Rest, rest, rest, rest.
Everything needs time to repair. While I am referring to the body in particular, this applies to almost anything. Rest is tantamount to productivity. This is why I believe the New York subway system is in such disarray. It runs 24/7, and has no proper time when it can be repaired. It just shuts down randomly, sometimes without warning. (Especially the G line. God) It is disruptive and inconvenient, and has spoiled many of my plans.
While I cannot change how the New York subway functions, I do not have to follow in their footsteps: I can allow myself to rest.
Breathe.
I have a twin sister, and people have a hard time telling us apart. Some come up with their own tricks in order to make the distinction: Reylia wears lipstick, Johnna always has her hair up, Reylia has the beauty marks on her face, and Johnna always goes running. I hear a lot of the same things.
Years ago when Johnna and I were visiting Tokyo at Trunk Hotel together, we began talking to two men at the bar. Lovely conversationalists, who promptly invited us to have dinner with them.
As we ate, one of the men shifted his eyes between Johnna and I, then gasped happily. “I got it!” He said. “I figured out how to tell you two apart.” He pointed at first to Johnna, and then to me. “She breathes….you don’t.”
These days I’m doing my best to remember to breathe.
To the best of your abilities, figure out what you want.
When you leave food in the fridge for days on end, only for it to spoil, that is evidence of wasted food. But the evidence of wasted time is harder to see, it does not come about right away, perhaps not even years, and it is a bit hard to pinpoint exactly “the waste” was, and where it started. Overthinking it can leave us tossing and turning in our beds, consumed by circuitous ways of thinking.
So, boil down your deep desires and aspirations. Where you strive to live, how your want your daily life to look like, and what skills you would like to add to your belt. And think about them, with big, beautiful emotions.
Keep them in the corner of your mind, as if you were carrying a lantern through a forest. The only rule is not to catch fire from the lantern itself.
This is the part of the dichotomy that leaves one uneasy: Life is as beautiful as it is ugly, as simple as it is complicated.
I tend to convolute my own life, as many of us do. But during periods of lucid mind and heart, I cut through the fat, and see things for how they are in the present. And while I may not always like to admit it, it can be as simple as breathing, walking, and eating well.
So, I’m leaving this here as evidence that I tried. A small, meek attempt, to make it simple.
More writing:
FIND REYLIA ON
I've been drawing for decades now, and struggle with this a lot. But I don't think it is burn out per se.
We live in a time of saturation, and the unanimous chorus seems to be that being creative is 'important', and that everyone should want to pursue it and they are right to do so. But historically, a precious few were ever given the opportunity to be creative as a means of income. And even if they did, it was usually a meager survival.
Most of all humanity has disappeared without ever having left a mark. To some, that seems like a horrible curse. But more and more I am finding comfort in that thought.
I don't think I hate art anymore, I'm just finding I don't need to idolize it.