Rules of Creative Engagement

When I was ten I imagined that, by age thirty, I would be a famous writer living in a house by the sea. By the time I was twenty, I had learned that such ambitions were selfish and unrealistic. I was clenching myself around the issue of declaring a major. I imagined that, once I selected a focus, my career and my life would unravel into a smooth straight line involving corporate loyalty and regular promotions. It’s not uncommon for a worker today to have five different careers. Despite this reality, we still present the straight-line model of career development to young people.

If this model is inaccurate in general, it’s almost dangerous for those of us with artistic tendencies. A more useful model for me has been the idea of life as a cybernetic process. The word cybernetics comes from the Greek word for steersman. We’re in this boat of life trying to get somewhere while we are buffeted by winds and currents. Most of the time, we are not heading directly towards our destination. We have to redirect our boat towards our goal, over and over again. This model of career development makes sense to me and it suggests some rules of engagement.

Rule Number One: Know where you are going/Know what you want. A simple idea, but it’s not easy to do. A great thing about cybernetics is it relieves me of the pressure to be right all the time. I can go off in the wrong direction as long as I use the feedback I receive to correct my course. At the beginning of this year, I decided I wanted to be a published writer. I got an unpaid gig writing for a web site called AppleLust. I wrote six columns for them, three of which met their criteria and were published on the site. I developed article ideas, queried editors and wrote an article on acupuncture for a magazine called I Love Cats. (Payment on publication, which they estimate to be before 2004.) I spent hours on these efforts and had a sense that I was not going in the right direction. I kept rowing for a while thinking, “maybe I want to be a frequently-published writer.” While I enjoyed the process of writing, I didn’t care about what I was writing and it bothered me. Recently, I’ve begun writing about the creative process and about living with chronic illness, subjects that call to me as strongly as the practices of writing and making images.

Rule Number Two: Keep rowing/Keep taking action. I have never been without artistic tendencies, so I don’t know what life is like for normal people. The creative call is, for me, so strong that I hate myself if I am not involved in artistic effort. Oddly enough, this doesn’t mean I am diligent with my creative practice. Instead, it means I’ve gone years at a time hating myself. It’s so easy to see painting and writing as a waste of time. What good do they do any body, especially if they aren’t purchased and published? Shouldn’t I be doing laundry, a service that keeps those I love more comfortable and makes the world a better, brighter and sweet smelling place?

Two experiences help me keep my hands on the oars: one trying to save myself, another trying to save somebody else. At one point, I had hated myself for long enough that I thought a stay in the mental ward of a hospital might be in order. Seeking a less dramatic solution, I joined a twelve-step group and took some art classes. The combination worked and has proven itself repeatedly in the years since. Later, I volunteered as a phone counselor for a women’s organization. The few times I spoke with women who were suicidal, I was very conscious of the preciousness of their contribution to the world and what a loss it would be if they weren’t here. I think of them when I imagine giving up my creative effort. The work I care about may never find a large audience, but my creative practice adds to the richness of the world in ways that may not be mine to know.

Rule Number Three: Pay attention to the winds and currents/Note the feedback you receive. I am more stubborn than most people I know. When I get an idea of how things should be, it’s easy for me to refuse to see any other options. It’s important for me to look at the feedback I’m receiving in response to my efforts. Three out of three article queries I submitted received personal response from editors. Positive feedback means I’m doing something right. My queries are well enough written. My ideas are viable. I’m targeting appropriate publications. Two out of two children’s book manuscripts I submitted have been rejected with form letters by multiple editors. Something ain’t right. The winds are blowing me towards my desired destination of non-fiction writing and away from my desired destination of writing fiction for children. My first task is to take note.

Rule Number Four: Tack when necessary. Having noticed the direction the winds are blowing, I’m now faced with a decision about what action to take in response. One option is to go with the winds. I could quit writing children’s fiction. I could quit writing for children. I could quit writing fiction. Another option is to tack, to take (according to dictionary.com) a “course of action meant to minimize opposition to the attainment of a goal.” If I want to be a published children’s author, maybe I should do some investigation to find out how to improve my success rate.

Rule Number Five: Follow your heart. Following your heart may not be part of cybernetic theory, but it’s certainly part of art. Contrary to what my logical, sensible and practical parents raised me to believe, instinct counts. If I am unhappy writing about computers, it’s a sign I should stop. If my heartstrings thrum at the thought of a mom reading my words to a child before bedtime, I should continue. Ignoring the desires of my heart is a slow form of suicide. I get to look noble going down with the ship but, in the end, I’ve become fish food.

Cybernetics claims that all forms of goal-directed action are based on cycles. These five rules are not a sequence to be followed, but a cycle to be danced. When I asked my high-school art teacher how to be a grown-up artist, he answered, “Don’t grow up.” I found the answer irritating, but I am starting to understand its wisdom. Young children follow these rules naturally. They know what they want and take action to get to their goals. They adjust to the unexpected and are courageously persistent. They very rarely follow a straight-line path.

Read more about it:
Principia Cybernetica Web tries to tackle age-old philosophical questions with the help of the most recent cybernetic theories and technologies.