When I was 10 or 11, I picked up the guitar. At the time, I had never listened to any modern rock music (I grew up in a rather stifling religious environment, and most rock was considered the work of the devil). Having no reference point, I sat in my room plucking aimlessly at an acoustic guitar. Eventually I learned chords and could play worship music. At the time, my process was defined by experimental ritual; I would sit and try out different tunings and techniques, and I had no real guideposts.
Metallica changed that. I first heard their self-titled record (the so-called "black album") when I was about 12, and I was blown away by the dense, guttural growl produced by the guitars and Mesa/Boogie amplifiers. I now had a guidepost. Shortly thereafter, my dad bought my my first Stratocaster, and a few years later I had a number of guitar solos from Master of Puppets down.
Later, I delved into electronic music production. I followed a similar course of experimentation, then inspiration, then knowledge expansion. Eventually my synth and guitar know how led me into a hip hop metal band called Priests of Hiroshima. Who knew?
Here's me on stage with the Priests:
Sometimes you need to wander.
Richard Carlson wrote a book called “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff About Money”. The first essay is about getting from A to B, when B is a destination far off in the distance. In other words, how do we handle the monumental task of achieving wonderful things, when those things are far beyond us?
First of all, you start. You chip away at it. If you want to write a novel, and you write two pages a day, in a year you'll have 730 pages.
There’s something more valuable than the destination, though, and that’s the process. Developing a process in order to achieve your goal is, arguably, more important than the goal itself. The coinciding events often refine the original intent – which may have been established while you were still in the dark. The experiences along the way illuminate your path.
However beautiful the end product is, it is formed only by the process - and the process is informed by a vision of beauty, even if it is vague at first.
So you have to take a step towards your goal – you have to fumble with your guitar in the dark – but you also need to learn how to get there, and you have to discover what works. You can do both of these things by beginning and moving consistently. Your path will brighten and you will eventually find yourself on a ridge, where you may decide to alter your course with this new view of the world below you. “You don’t get here by luck, but after years of dedication.”
If you’re interested in establishing and maintaining a creative process, but you don’t know where to start, you may just need to immerse yourself in your activity with no expectations. Push yourself in no particular direction; eventually, you will begin to make sense of it. I'm not talking about meaningless wandering, either. When you really want something, you have a choice whether to act on it or not. If you're truly reaching out for an informative experience, you'll find it.
