The Creative Act: A Way of Being

by Rick Rubin

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

What you make doesn’t have to be witnessed, recorded, sold, or encased in glass for it to be a work of art.

How do we pick up on a signal that can neither be heard nor be defined? The answer is not to look for it. Nor do we attempt to predict or analyze our way into it. Instead, we create an open space that allows it. A space so free of the normal overpacked condition of our minds that it functions as a vacuum. Drawing down the ideas that the universe is making available.

Artists who are able to continually create great works throughout their lives often manage to preserve these childlike qualities. Practicing a way of being that allows you to see the world through uncorrupted, innocent eyes can free you to act in concert with the universe’s timetable.

Clouds never truly disappear. They change form. They turn into rain and become part of the ocean, and then evaporate and return to being clouds. The same is true of art. Art is a circulation of energetic ideas. What makes them appear new is that they’re combining differently each time they come back. No two clouds are the same.

No matter what tools you use to create, the true instrument is you. And through you, the universe that surrounds us all comes into focus.

Living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice or you’re not. It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it. It’s like saying, “I’m not good at being a monk.” You are either living as a monk or you’re not. We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output. The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world.

Because there’s an endless amount of data available to us and we have a limited bandwidth to conserve, we might consider carefully curating the quality of what we allow in.

The objective is not to learn to mimic greatness, but to calibrate our internal meter for greatness. So we can better make the thousands of choices that might ultimately lead to our own great work.

There is never a shortage of awe and inspiration to be found outdoors. If we dedicated our lives solely to noticing changes in natural light and shadow as the hours pass, we would constantly discover something new.

The person who makes something today isn’t the same person who returns to the work tomorrow.

It’s helpful to view currents in the culture without feeling obligated to follow the direction of their flow. Instead, notice them in the same connected, detached way you might notice a warm wind. Let yourself move within it, yet not be of it.

One of the reasons so many great artists die of overdoses early in their lives is because they’re using drugs to numb a very painful existence. The reason it’s painful is the reason they became artists in the first place: their incredible sensitivity. If you see tremendous beauty or tremendous pain where other people see little or nothing at all, you’re confronted with big feelings all the time.

Sometimes disengaging is the best way to engage.

What’s considered art is simply an agreement. And none of it is true. What is true is that you are never alone when you’re making art. You are in a constant dialogue with what is and what was, and the closer you can tune in to that discussion, the better you can serve the work before you.

Most creators think of themselves as the conductor of the orchestra. 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.

Intention is all there is. The work is just a reminder.

As soon as you use a label to describe what you’re working on, there’s a temptation to conform to its rules.

Rules obeyed unconsciously are far stronger than the ones set on purpose. And they are more likely to undermine the work.

Holding every rule as breakable is a healthy way to live as an artist. It loosens constraints that promote a predictable sameness in our working methods.

Innocence brings forth innovation. A lack of knowledge can create more openings to break new ground.

As artists, we aim to live in a way in which we see the extraordinary hidden in the seemingly mundane. Then challenge ourselves to share what we see in a way that allows others a glimpse of this remarkable beauty.

Create an environment where you’re free to express what you’re afraid to express.

An artist casts a line to the universe. We don’t get to choose when a noticing or inspiration comes. We can only be there to receive it.

We generate possibilities instead of eliminating them. Editing prematurely can close off routes that might lead to beautiful vistas previously unseen.

To truly weigh choices, it’s necessary to bring them into the physical world. Have them acted out, played out, or built into a model. Descriptions do not do ideas justice.

Each unsuccessful solution gets you closer to one that works. Avoid becoming attached to the particulars of the problem.

Demanding to control a work of art would be just as foolish as demanding that an oak tree grow according to your will.

When solely focused on one, it’s easy to get tunnel vision. While it may appear a project’s moving in the right direction, we are too closely entwined with it to truly know.

Art is a reflection of the artist’s inner and outer world during the period of creation. Extending the period complicates the artist’s ability to capture a state of being. The result can be a loss of connection and enthusiasm for the work over time.

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

Falling short of grander visions might actually put the work exactly where it wants to be. Do not let the scale of your imagination get in the way of executing a more practical version of your project. We may come to realize that this version is better than the initial, seemingly impossible vision.

Sometimes solutions to these difficult pieces will reveal themselves once the overall context has emerged. A bridge is easier to build when it’s clear what’s on either side of it.

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

When making art, we create a mirror in which someone may see their own hidden reflection.

It’s impossible to imitate another artist’s point of view. We can only swim in the same waters. So feel free to copy the works that inspire you on the road to finding your own voice. It’s a time-tested tradition.

Releasing a work into the world becomes easier when we remember that each piece can never be a total reflection of us, only a reflection of who we are in this moment.

How many pages will be left empty because your process was dampened by doubt and deliberation? Keep this question in the front of your mind. It might allow you to move forward more freely.

One of the greatest rewards of making art is our ability to share it. Even if there is no audience to receive it, we build the muscle of making something and putting it out into the world. Finishing our work is a good habit to develop. It boosts confidence. Despite our insecurities, the more times we can bring ourselves to release our work, the less weight insecurity has.

If you think, “I don’t like it but someone else will,” you are not making art for yourself. You’ve found yourself in the business of commerce, which is fine; it just may not be art. There’s no bright line between the two. The more formulaic your creation is, the more it hugs the shore of what’s been popular, the less like art it’s likely to be.

Fear of criticism. Attachment to a commercial result. Competing with past work. Time and resource constraints. The aspiration of wanting to change the world. And any story beyond “I want to make the best thing I can make, whatever it is” are all undermining forces in the quest for greatness.

If you are living in the belief that success will cure your pain, when the treatment comes and doesn’t work, it can lead to hopelessness. A depression can accompany the realization that what you’ve spent most of your life chasing hasn’t fixed your insecurities and vulnerabilities. More likely, with the stakes and consequences now higher, it has only amplified the pressure. And we are never taught how to handle this epic disappointment.