I don't think a whack on the head,
Tom Jones or whatever, has anything to do with creative genius, except that it can force an individual to take time out from life and during that time they may have to find themselves in some unique way. I think that if there is any common trait to great creative lives that may be it. In bio after bio you see it. E.g., a kid has an illness that prevents him from playing with the other kids for a year and he takes up music, and ends up a great singer - Tom Jones . A life trauma that knocks us out of the usual, can, may, knock us into the unusual. There is, of course, another way of tapping into subconscious genius, and that is with drugs of various kinds. Many otherwise "normal" artists have used alcoholic excesses and mind-bending drugs to create hallucinations or put themselves into a trance or status in which they find themselves able to create.

For years the attempt at manipulating
Paul Horn my psyche before approaching the act of creativity was a good run in the morning followed by a session of yoga. How could I not be creative after that? Getting rid of all that excess energy that clogged the flow of the creative process? Having music in the background was an important factor to keep me in that pattern of inspiration... it couldn't be too passionate, however, because it could break the connection but it had to have some spirit... Paul Horn for example. I would always make sure that before leaving the studio for the day there was something undone in my art work that didn't require too much creative thought the next day to complete so that I could "engage" myself with the work knowing that if I just "began" it would begin. My art has since moved from the Paul Horn tapestry weaving to dimensional wall sculptures and I'm finding now that I do need the passionate sounds while I create this new work--music that will stir my spirit into taking risks, putting me over the edge into another dimension... at least while the music lasts.

While my experience has not included Intermezzo
pastel
22 x 29 inches a "clunk to the head," I am a lifelong migraine sufferer and, over the years, have discovered that the great majority of my colleagues are too. This can't be coincidental! So, we have wondered if there is this neurological wiring phenomenon in the brain of artists who experience migraines that is part of our creative thinking. Or perhaps, it is part of what separates us from those who do not have a driving desire to create art. Have you heard anything of the migraine/art connection?



(RG note) Thanks, Nancy. It's difficult to do surveys of this sort of thing as those who have migraines and are artistic are liable to reply. But I'm going to ask readers to reply to Nancy. Perhaps she might be willing to collect anecdotal and other evidence and pass it back to me. I have the feeling that this might be the basis of a future letter.

Children who have disabilities can also A charlotte Summer
oil on canvas
18 x 24 inches develop into savants--musically, artistically, mathematically. Being that a part of their brain may be compromised by disease, deformity, genetics, another part of their brain may well be taking up the slack for their otherwise weak area of the brain. This makes perfect sense if you consider that people who have lost their sight or hearing use their other senses to a greater degree to function, communicate, and live a full life. It is therefore understandable that an individual who suffers from loss of brain activity or development in one area of the brain that most of us use all the time, may very well have found the pathway to areas of the brain that the rest of us never tread. As artists, we walk freely through an open field of right-brained activity, an area of the brain that many people cannot understand. My husband can't even draw a stick figure, and is very much left-brain developed, and he is amazed at what he calls my "right-brained prowess," but it is all individual. We are all individuals and develop different areas of our brain at different rates throughout our life. We each have gifts, yet I have always believed that if we are physically and mentally able, just about anything is possible if we know what pathways to take in our brain that will open the door to a whole new world of information and ability.

Music--and all other art—is a form of experience. Catboat 3-To Nantucket
acrylic on canvas
34 x 44 inches In the current world of materialism, this amounts to people's desire to buy "products." If art were a product, this phenomenon that you wrote about--which also is explored in an article in Scientific American (about people with Alzheimer's responding powerfully to music)--this experiential state would not be happening. And to make it even better, each person has their own personal dialog with--that is experiences--each piece of art (whether it be music, painting, sculpture, etc.) in a different way. These millions of dialogs are all different. Remarkable, if you ask me. In fact the artist's meaning in the work is most often not experienced by the viewer or listener. It triggers an entirely new and different experience. I am not sure that all artists are comfortable with this notion. But my customers show me this over and over again.

"You are the music" really struck a chord with Sailors Delight
original painting me. I have been stranded creatively for quite awhile and haven't touched a canvas. I had a number of unfinished paintings beckoning to me to no avail... until my personal lightning strike. I was cruising our local Sunday art walk, and came upon a series of paintings I had never seen before. I was drawn inexplicably into the area and stood with my mouth hanging open. This fellow was painting the landscapes I love so well, but not trapping himself into attempting to capture the 'true' colors... his trees were orange and yellow, the sea an unreal bright blue and turquoise, the perspective a bit off. As we walked away with one of Alan Freeman's paintings under my arm, my friend pointed out to me, "I think you just had an 'Ah-ha' moment." She was right. I set his painting right next to my canvas and looked at it for days. Carefully. Then, I started painting. The joy came back. I was free. Free from the constraints of whatever place my mind had trapped me. Some day soon I will go thank Alan in person for his proverbial whack on the head and perhaps I will take him a painting as a gift.

Your letter brings to mind the old Zen Master's Orange River
pastel on paper
18 x 24 inches habit of knocking the stuffing out of a slow apprentice with a cane to the head. Basho bashes another monk, "Voila!" Satori achieved. He was doing this from 1644 - 1694 in Japan. There are many things I have tried to cheat a slow learning curve but I'm still hesitant to include concussion as a training device on my students. Although we all know that Oliver Sacks's thesis has opportunity as plausible deniability for cattle prods on reluctant interview subjects of the C.I.A., I doubt hooking up some 110 to the temporal plates of my students is going to go over well, even if it works. Tales of Music and the Brain does bring to the fore how little we know about how inspiration works but one does have to be careful coming to conclusions based on "too small a number set." An insufficient baseline of data leads to absurd results most of the time. One of the mantras I'm constantly repeating in drawing classes is to work from general to specific--big masses/values and then the lovely little articulations within those shapes. In drawing, just as in most all forms of mental activity, going from specific to general leads to disaster... almost always. Now I'm off to do a little "institutional behavior" or head banging while sticking my fingers in the socket and then paint as I have always hoped I could.

Wild enthusiasm driving a strong work ethic is Bison Shadows
acrylic on canvas
30 x 30 inches key to artistic accomplishment. So, what of the way art is typically taught to others? In our institutions of higher learning, there is a curriculum of courses that must be taken, in a particular order, and with specific instructional ground to be covered. What better formula to stifle an emerging artist's enthusiasm? Or, in a typical art workshop, the instructor (probably an accomplished artist) will arrive with a curriculum to cover, which is mostly showing the students how he/she creates the type of art he/she is known for. What if art instruction, past the primary school years, were entirely student-directed? What if the instructor were to say to each student, "I am here as your art resource. I will work diligently to give you whatever technical help, emotional support, philosophical undergirding, or historical perspective you ask for, so tell me what you are excited about today." And each day, that same offer would be re-extended, as the student explores and grows. Certainly that kind of process would stretch many teachers beyond their usual comfort zone, but think what it might mean for empowering the next generation of artists--and even the teachers.

As interesting as it is to hear that a bump on Apple and Balsamic
oil on panel
11 x 14 inches the noggin may unleash genius, might I suggest something less drastic (and less painful)? And that is simply meditation. Even just a few minutes a day can open things up and make a great difference. Meditating with a clear purpose in mind is even better - clearing out the mental clutter, as it were, and putting the objective in the forefront of the mind. While the ego may awaken the mentor within for some, simple desire, joy in doing, and clear focus can work wonders for the less egocentric. Getting the ego out of the way and just allowing ourselves to "be" and to "do" without the pressure to be a genius, but just giving ourselves permission to create can work wonders in and of itself. It's true - we are the music, and we need to give ourselves permission to sing our own song because no one can sing our song quite like we can.

I recommend Creativity and Disease: How illness affects literature, art and music , by
Creativity and Disease: How illness affects literature, art and music
by Philip Sandblom Philip Sandblom. Eric Olsen suggested, before he became fully and rightfully entrenched over his father's murder by the CIA, that I might benefit from it. Prior to my meeting him in the states, Eric was at the time working in Stockholm on the treatment of young women who suffer from eating disorders. As Eric said, "Look into a photo and it will tell you everything you need to know about that person at that time in his or her life." His treatment was collage therapy. I have made some temporary collages myself, since I have a history of concussions - including one just three weeks ago. Part of the reason I bang my head unwillingly is that my retinas both detached in my late 20s leaving me with a light source in the left eye and only central vision in the right. I wanted to see what I looked like after such adventures. I mostly look vacant from the outside and starry-eyed from my side. I do like your essay on music and think you are my favorite two parts of the week.

I started giving Reiki (healing energy) to my art during a Chakra Lotus Heart to succeed
original painting before Reiki Lotus for Grounding
original painting after Reiki Meditation series. Then I continued throughout my Buddhist Objects of Ceremony series. Before and after, you can clearly see the difference in the work. I hear what to do with the artwork in my head. I've asked who it is, but it seems different sources of knowledge come forward depending on the situation. It feels like having a private art teacher.

No bolt of lightning or bonk on the
Branding
original mural head, but maybe "getting it" is a god-given ability. To understand art and interpret all of life's creation through a sensitivity or sixth sense is something, I believe, a creative individual just has. Some people are born with an ability with numbers, words, or music. Whatever the gift, the roll of environment plays into the self-discovery of one's own talent. The play Death of a Salesman comes to mind. As in the play, there are people muddling through life never understanding or hearing their own "music." They fear their own individuality and they impose that fear upon those around them. This in turn becomes a voice of society. "You're a salesman because your father was a salesman and his father before him." I've grown up living in logging camps, and having some of my afternoon naps on the floorboards of a D9 Cat Bulldozer that my dad ran. I was running heavy equipment before I was able to drive a car. As my father once said to me, "You can always fall back on being an equipment operator," and for the first 15 years of my working life I did fall back on it. It helped to pay my way through the University I enrolled in for fine arts, and helped me make a living through some tough years, but it held me captive through those years, as well. I wanted to unleash my creative voice, but there was also a fear of failing, by some horrible unfathomable way, in the eyes of both my father and society in general, that kept me from leaving the road construction field completely. Yet I was always compelled to listen to my creative voice. In 1999, I took the initiative and started up Davis Arts , a mural, graphics, and art company. I have had some great personal success and some miserable failures since then. My father is proud, and society... Be dammed what society thinks. It was the influence of one art teacher in high school that encouraged me to pursue my dream. If not for him I would have taken geology or engineering in college. I would have made the best of any career choice, and I may even have been happy. But, deep within me, there would always have been my creative voice trying to sing out, "I Art Therefore I Am!" It is the slogan that adorns the back of my artist-work shirts, and it is a statement of who I am.