Guys, I’ve fallen behind! It’s been quite a week. I’m writing this on Saturday, a few hours after I usually send my letters, because this week I’ve been working more than usual, and yesterday I fell so consumed with a project that I couldn’t think about anything else until it was complete. Only after it was finished did I know what I wanted to write about this week. And now here I am, overstaying my welcome at a coffee shop, compulsively dumping all of my thoughts from the last seven days into this letter.
Part I - Rejection
First thing’s first - last friday night was in fact a turning point. I’ve been sleeping STUPID well. As much as I hate to admit it, I think I have to attribute this development to the ending of a ~romantic connection~ (cringe. what are you supposed to call it when you’re only dating someone?) I’d been pursuing for the better part of my 2022 so far. Your body’s always the first to tell you when something’s not right, and when you don’t listen to it, it will tell you louder.
Well let me just say, rejection is one hell of a drug. When you know deep down that who/what rejected you wasn’t right for you, there’s this incredible feeling of relief. Relief that you don’t have to convince yourself of its “rightness” anymore, and relief that you didn’t have to be the one to walk away, and risk feeling haunted by that decision. I felt similarly after being rejected from so many full time corporate jobs this summer, and finally letting myself try to freelance instead.
Don’t get me wrong, I was sad too, but surprisingly (to me) that was not my overwhelming emotion, and it is also not the point of this newsletter, so I will not be focusing on it.
This time, the rejection unblocked and released a wave of energy that manifested itself in texts to friends, an investment in a new hobby, a few emails I’d been too drained to send before, some last minute travel plans, and as of yesterday, a deeply personal zine. Sadly, it’s one that I’ll have to distribute anonymously, because this is one of those rare instances where lack of context/explanation will serve the work better - which brings me to our next topic of discussion.
Part II - Ego
I’ve been thinking about how ego interacts with art recently, because of my proximity to photographers in the advertising world. Their process and way of making seems wildly different from mine. After observing how they work, and trying to analyze the differences between us, I think what it comes down to is how ego informs our art. I didn’t even think about that relationship until I compared my way of working to a few commercial photographers, and realized you kind of have to lean on your ego in commercial work. Because you don’t actually care about the product you’re shooting, you have to find something else to care about, i.e., your name on the line, or the quality of your portfolio. Otherwise why would you put in any of the required effort to make a good picture? (often, a better picture than necessary)
Maybe that’s why, as hard as I’ve tried to find a love for it, advertising just doesn’t interest me? Is it because I don’t really care about the technical quality of my images? I’m lazy. I don’t get any enjoyment out of tediously perfecting a shot in-camera. I choose efficiency and ease over precision and perfection every time. I want to go home early.
Photography is really just a tool for me to express my love for the world around me - the things I know. It’s a gateway to understanding, giving me a method to explore the things I’m curious about. I guess it’s not the medium I like, after all. It’s what it allows me to do.
Part III - The Artist’s Way
On January 26th, I started The Artist’s Way, after my friend Paris recommended it to me a few months prior, to help resurrect my photographic practice and general creativity. It’s a 12 week “program” that’s supposed to help you connect with your inner artist, release blockages, and allow you to create again.
So far (I’m on week 8), I’ve barely touched my camera. But I have felt a massive shift in my relationships with other people, and how I allow myself to process the thoughts in my head (internalizing has turned into a lot of talking, and even more writing. a very productive shift). I’ve stopped viewing myself as a “photographer”, feeling more connected to the general “artist” label. That is, I’ve started considering my creations of other mediums to be of equal validity and importance as my photographs. I’ve started giving equal consideration and respect to my non-photographic artistic desires.
One of my favorite things I’ve taken away from this book so far is the idea that if you do just one kind thing for yourself, the universe will reward you with ten more. There’s abundance everywhere, baby, and the little things add up.
My commitment to this process has surprised me - I’m not usually the type to stick with these kinds of self help / personal improvement journeys. Almost immediately upon starting, however, I started noticing small changes within myself, and I think that made me curious enough to keep going. What will these small changes add up to? Who will I be at the end of this? We’ll find out, I guess. Stay tuned for the week 12 update.
Part IV - Flow State
The spring equinox is tomorrow, so I think it’s a good time to talk about The Magician, and this idea of flow state. I’ve been keeping a close eye on the trees around my apartment, waiting and waiting and waiting for those delicate flowers and bright leaves to fill in the gaps between the bare branches I’ve been staring at for four months. The cherry blossoms were first, seemingly overnight, followed maybe a week later by the magnolia trees. One of my favorite trees, the royal star magnolia - which I discovered in that weird stage of early quarantine two years ago, on walks around the neighborhood with my sister - unfurled its thick and sturdy petals a few days ago to my giddy, post-run delight. One day the street looked almost exactly as it had in December, and the next it was blushing pink against a blue sky.
The trees are a nice, albeit expected metaphor for this Magician energy, and what it feels like to be an artist. You wait dormant for months, maybe years, putting in work without much to show for it. Maybe you don’t even realize you’re putting in work, as the work is often just processing and nourishing yourself with new experiences. You feel depressed about your inability to create anything good, or anything at all. Maybe you cry about it. Maybe it rains. And then one day, it happens all at once. The art starts pouring out of you. The flowers bloom. All you can do is exactly what the creation demands of you, until there’s nothing left. You don’t feel like you’re creating at all. You are merely the conduit for the energy. You’re releasing.
One of the best descriptions I’ve heard of this phenomenon was the Song Exploder episode with Maggie Rogers, where she explains how her song Alaska took only minutes to write, but really it took two and a half years. Two and a half years of writer’s block, of trying and failing to find her style, of processing life. Maggie was a vessel that collected random thoughts and feelings and sounds and ideas, and let them accumulate and ferment in her subconscious for two and a half years, until they finally pieced themselves together and demanded conscious release.
I wouldn’t say I experience this kind of true artistic flow state frequently. Certainly not every day. Not periodically, or seasonally, or any way that can be anticipated or planned for. All I know is that most of the time, I am observing and collecting, rather than making.
Someone once asked me what I do all day, on those days when I’m not working, because there are a lot of them. What I wrote down in my notes app, probably a week later, was “I spend my days trying to be kind to myself”. It’s true - it’s about all I do. And god, what a wonderful place to be at in life. I buy flowers for myself, because I like how they look on my dining table. I take myself on walks, and to the movies, and out to brunch. I go on runs and listen to loud music and read about things that interest me. And when I get tired of talking to myself, I call my friends. It took a long time, but I’ve learned to just let myself exist, and trust that the Creative Energy will take over when it has something to say. It always does.
Sometimes it lasts a feverish few hours, until I’ve finished making whatever it wanted me to make. Today, for example, I forgot to eat breakfast and lunch because it took 6 hours to get all of these thoughts out of my head, and once I started I couldn’t stop. Sometimes the flow state lasts months, and it’s less all-consuming, but still ever-present in the back of my mind. Sometimes, it’s not a dramatic or strictly artistic flow state, but a smaller, quieter, more mundane experience, like the state you enter when cleaning, or running, or sending a confrontational text.
From a place of dormancy, something triggers an influx of energy, and you begin to feel an itching restlessness. If you allow yourself to channel it, the uncomfortable buzzing becomes a productive and therapeutic untangling. It feels a little manic, but also quite peaceful when you’re in the middle of it. There’s no other noise. When it’s all out of your system, you wait and collect until it happens again.
That’s all The Magician represents. This receiving and directing of energy, allowing it to manifest in the physical world. Look at the table, displaying all four of the minor arcana elements: wands, cups, swords, and pentacles. The figure uses whatever resources are available to them, and whatever resources best serve the creation, to channel it into reality. The Magician represents communication with The Divine (God, the Universe, whatever whatever) by way of artistic creation.
This card also makes me think of drumming, because that seems to be one of the most direct and explosive expressions of energy a person can engage in. If you look at The Magician’s right hand, pointed up to the “heavens”, they’re even holding what looks like a little drumstick :)
If you can’t tell, this is one of my absolute favorite cards. You can visualize it as a sort of energy diagram - the figure’s arms making the shape of a lightning bolt. One receives the energy from above, and the other directs it down to earth (reality).
There’s a little prayer/mantra The Artist’s Way instructed me to write for myself, pertaining to my artistic process. I’ve found it quite grounding, and reassuring. Maybe you will too. It goes,
Divine Energy (God, Universe, Great Creator, whatever you feel like describes your energy source)
I offer myself as a channel
I surrender to your wisdom
I accept your light
I trust your vision
help me to love, to heal, to grow
allow me to honor you through creation
Sometimes the art you want to make is not the art the Energy wants you to make. This year, I’ve been writing more than I ever have, and photographing less. I’m not thinking any of this up. I’m getting it down so I don’t have to think about it any more. In the past, I’ve felt compelled to make dumb videos, poems, zoomed in iphone shots of baseball players, a tulle collar, etc. None of these little projects were “thought up” or forced. In no way did they serve my artistic ego - in fact they might have humbled me a bit. They were things I made because I knew if I didn’t, no one would, and I wanted to see them exist. So I surrendered to the idea, and let myself serve as the means of production, even when I thought the idea was silly.
There are of course photos and videos and projects that I created without that feeling of flow. I’ve ideated, and planned, and fought with many “good” pieces of art. And because of that struggle, when they were all finished, I took pride in them. But they are not my favorite pieces of art. My favorites are not mine at all.
Yeesh, this one was wordy enough to make up for last week’s tired brevity, I think. Thanks for stickin’ with me, and happy Saturday.
<3 Jordan