The Creative Act: A Way of Being

by Rick Rubin

Creativity doesn’t exclusively relate to making art. We all engage in this act on a daily basis. 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 of furniture in a room, a new route home to avoid a traffic jam.

The goal is not to fit in. If anything, it’s to amplify the differences, what doesn’t fit, the special characteristics unique to how you see the world.

Beware of the assumption that the way you work is the best way simply because it’s the way you’ve done it before.

If you know what you want to do and you do it, that’s the work of a craftsman. If you begin with a question and use it to guide an adventure of discovery, that’s the work of the artist.

Art may only exist, and the artist may only evolve, by completing the work.

The artist’s goal is not merely to produce, but to make the finest work they are capable of.

By remaining too long in this phase, many pitfalls may arise. One is disconnection. If an artist is creating a beautiful work, and keeps endlessly crafting it beyond the need, sometimes they suddenly want to start all over. This can be because they have changed or the times have changed.

When we become overly attached to a premature version of the work, we do a disservice to the project’s potential.

The goal of art isn’t to attain perfection. The goal is to share who we are. And how we see the world.

A point of view is different from having a point. A point is an idea intentionally expressed. A point of view is the perspective—conscious and unconscious—through which the work emerges.

If we write an essay and give it to a friend, before even hearing their perspective, our relationship to the work changes. Give it to a mentor and our perspective shifts in a different way. We interrogate ourselves when we offer our work up to others. We ask the questions we didn’t ask ourselves when we were making it. Sharing it in this limited capacity brings our underlying doubts to light.

If you’ve truly created an innovative work, it’s likely to alienate as many people as it attracts. The best art divides the audience. If everyone likes it, you probably haven’t gone far enough.

We are frozen, and sometimes end up convincing ourselves that discarding the entire work is the only way to move forward. The only art the world gets to enjoy is from creators who’ve overcome these hurdles and released their work. Perhaps still greater artists existed than the ones we know, but they were never able to make this leap.

One of the greatest rewards of making art is our ability to share it.

Your old work isn’t better than your new work. And your new work isn’t better than the old. There will be highs and lows throughout an artist’s life. To assume there was a golden period and you’re past it is only true if you accept that premise. Putting your best effort in at each moment, in each chapter, is all we can ever hope to accomplish.

Success occurs in the privacy of the soul.

Popular success is a poor barometer of work and worth. In order for a work to connect commercially, stars must align and none of them relate to how good the project is. It might be the timing, the distribution mechanism, the mood of the culture, or a connection to current events.

Consider that it might not have been your initial style that attracted success, but your personal passion within it. So if your passion changes course, follow it. Your trust in your instincts and excitement are what resonate with others.

If we can tune in to the idea of making things and sharing them without being attached to the outcome, the work is more likely to arrive in its truest form.

Be aware of strong responses. If you’re immediately turned off by an experience, it’s worth examining why. Powerful reactions often indicate deeper wells of meaning. And perhaps by exploring them, you’ll be led to the next step on your creative path.

Be mindful not to abandon a project prematurely because you have given in to all-or-nothing thinking. I have witnessed several artists start projects and throw them away for this very reason. It’s easy to create a piece, recognize a flaw, and want to discard the entire work. This reflex happens in all areas of life.

Faith is rewarded, perhaps even more than talent or ability.

If we try ten experiments and none of them work, we have a choice. We can take it personally, and think of ourselves as a failure and question our ability to solve the problem. Or we can recognize we’ve ruled out ten ways that don’t work, bringing us that much closer to a solution. For the artist, whose job is testing possibilities, success is as much ruling out a solution as finding one that works.

When we’re making things we love, our mission is accomplished. There’s nothing at all to figure out.

While the artist’s goal is greatness, it’s also to move forward. In service to the next project, we finish the current one. In service to the current project, we finish it so it can be set free into the world.

The moment one collaborator gives in and settles on a less preferential option for the sake of moving forward, everyone loses.