The Creative Act: A Way of Being

by Rick Rubin

To create is to bring something into existence that wasn’t there before.

It could be a conversation, the solution to a problem, a note to a friend, the rearrangement

We perceive, filter, and collect data, then curate an experience for ourselves and others based on this information set.

We are being conducted.

It’s worth remembering that we are blessed to get to create. It’s a privilege. We’re choosing it. We’re not being ordered to do this.

Our thoughts, feelings, processes, and unconscious beliefs have an energy that is hidden in the work. This unseen, unmeasurable force gives each piece its magnetism.

The creative energy exists in the journey to the making, not in the act of constructing.

If we zoom out of our small view of reality, we function more as an instrumentalist in a much larger symphony the universe is orchestrating. We may not have a great understanding of what this magnum opus is because we only see the small part we play.

the most innovative ideas come from those who master the rules to such a degree that they can see past them or from those who never learned them at all.

If you spent your whole life living near the ocean, your experience of it would almost certainly be less dramatic. When you see what’s present around you as if for the first time, you start to realize how astonishing it all is. As artists, we aim to live in a way in which we see the extraordinary hidden in the seemingly mundane.

thoughts, create space, and tune in. It cannot guarantee that inspiration will come, though the vacancy may draw the muse

Wooden often said the only person you’re ever competing against is yourself. The rest is out of your control. This way of thinking applies to the creative life

Failure is the information you need to get where you’re going.

We create to express who we are. Who we are and where we are on our journey.

As you collect feedback, the solutions offered may not always seem helpful. Before discarding them, take a moment to see if they’re pointing to an underlying problem you hadn’t noticed. For example, if there’s a suggestion to remove the bridge

project. When there are no material, time, and budget

Set parameters that force you out of your comfort zone. If you always write on a laptop, try using a yellow legal pad. If you’re right-handed, paint using your left hand. If you base your melodies on instrumentals, write one acappella. If you film using professional equipment, consider making an entire movie with only the camera in your phone. If you always prepare for acting roles through research, try a blind improvisation.

This is the essence of great art. We make it for no other purpose than creating our version of the beautiful, bringing all of ourself to every project, whatever its parameters and constraints. Consider it an offering, a devotional act. We do the best, as we see the best—with our own taste. No one else’s.

The only ones we can control are doing our best work, sharing it, starting the next, and not looking back.

Perfection is finally obtained not when there is no longer anything to add, but when there’s no longer anything to take away.

It’s helpful to work as if the project you’re engaged in is bigger than you.

Living in discovery is at all times preferable to living through assumptions.

Sometimes the mistakes are what makes a work great. Humanity breathes in mistakes.

The synergy of a group is as important— if not more important— than the talent of the individuals.

Anything that allows the audience to access how you see the world is accurate, even if the information is wrong.

The editor’s role is to gather and sift. Amplifying what’s vital and whittling away the excess. Culling the work down to the best version of itself.

Sometimes the editor will find holes and send us out to gather data to fill them.

The editor’s role is to remain unattached and see beyond these passions to find unity and balance.

Avoid confusing the editor’s cold detachment with the inner critic. The critic doubts the work, undermines it, zooms in and picks it apart. The editor steps back, views the work holistically, and supports its full potential. The editor is the professional in the poet.

If you’ve written a book that’s over three hundred pages, try to reduce it to less than a hundred without losing its essence.

What effect does each component have? Does it amplify the essence? Does it distract from the essence? Does it contribute to the balance? Does it contribute to the structure? Is it absolutely necessary?

“Making the simple complicated is commonplace,” Charles Mingus once said. “Making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.”