Post Category:

Making things

All the kings horses

Mark Duplass has this great speech he gave a few years back to aspiring film makers.

He warned us about waiting for the cavalry. That as creatives we can fall into the trap of thinking that the cavalry is coming and that any tiny incremental improvement we make in our work might trick us into believing that.

Big breakthroughs make us think the cavalry is coming. Those small wins can be intoxicating too.

Mark says the cavalry is not coming. It might feel like they are and people will tell you they are. But they’re not.

And Mark says this isn’t something to be sad about. The truth is, you don’t want the cavalry to come and save you.

The truth is, you get to a certain point of success of your own creation and the cavalry kinda is coming. Massive career changing opportunities come to you. The cavalry!

But when that happens, you don’t want ‘career changing’

You’ve worked hard for this career, thank you very much.

They came too late and you’re not interested in all the kings horses.

Because you are the king of your own castle now. And you are your own cavalry.

Mark is pretty on to it, I reckon

Print it out

In a world of screens and never ending interfaces we are faced with an infinity of blank pages if we need it.

Your writing is at the top of the google doc, and below it is a sea of white pages deeper than that trench who’s name I can’t spell (Marinara? Mayo-nana? Sriracha?)

The ‘never ending blank’ offers us endless new beginnings which is awesome.

And it also offers us… endless new beginnings which is awful.

I feel I’ve just hacked the system. To edit a short video script to day, I did away with my computer entirely. I printed the draft out.

Printed.

Yes on real life paper I can write on with a pen or pencil and that the beetroot from my lunch can stain- yeah that kind of paper.

It was glorious. Suddenly I was an artist again. A worker. My thoughts had real weight in the world. My scribbled notes reflected the messy and quick thoughts in my head.

There comes a point where we need to get out of the interface of a screen and just hold the blimmin’ thing in our hands.

When in doubt, print it out.

The right form

To kick a rugby ball you need the right form.

You approach the ball at the correct angle. You run up on the correct leg. Your breathing is a certain way. Your foot meets the ball at a precise point and follows through as the ball glides up.

Kicking the ball, holding the golf club or making the high jump requires your body to be in the right form.

This isn’t magic; it’s form.

And form isn’t limited to sports.

Take a second to imagine these…

What is the ‘form’ of an excellent writer?

A fast reader?

Or a highly engaging speaker?

What does an effective teacher look like?

What is the form of an efficient artist?

What does an entertaining host look like?

You may be able to conjure these pictures in your head. (If you can’t, now’s a great time to find some models.)

If we can imagine their form, we can adopt it.

If we can adopt it, we can get similar results.

Overnight failure

Success doesn’t happen over night.

Luckily, neither does failure.

We’re so encouraged to ‘not miss a day’ or keep the chain unbroken

The danger with this is if we do miss a day, we may throw the baby out with the bath water.

One ‘off’ day doesn’t mean it’s all over. Neither does a few in a row.

In fact, you could have a year of ‘off’ days and then make a new choice at any moment.

How good.

Success or failure is just a series of choices. The more you make in one direction the more you get.

Don’t let a few bad choices spoil the bunch.

Missed a day? That’s fine, you still have tomorrow.

(and the next day)

See it to see it

Visions work the same as film scripts.

To see it… you have to SEE it.

In order to realise the production of a feature film, the screenwriter has to build the script page by page. Each word adding to the tapestry. The script is a written vision.

“Here, this is what it will look like.”

Years before the projector shines the the magical lights of a movie on the silver screen, the movie existed only in someones head.

And it was just as vivid as you’re seeing at the cinema.

Before anything exists it first has to be a crystal clear vision.

To see it in real life, you have to see it in your head first.

Don’t skimp on the script. See it first, so we can too.

The missing piece of cake

They say that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure.

I think the same is true for things we know.

Something that is a piece of cake for you might be the missing piece for someone else.

One person’s breakfast is another person’s breakthrough (Trying to coin a phrase, is it any good?)

We’re often too close to our own abilities, skills, stories, distinctions and remarkable results to see the potential value they can provide to someone.

So don’t be stingy with the magic you make, it’s your responsibility to share it.

In theory

Most things are comfortable in theory.

We can follow through, we can be vulnerable, we can take rejection, we can weather failure easily….

… in theory.

It’s why they say talk is cheap.

It’s really easy to talk about the hard stuff in the abstract. “Someday if things are hard…” or “if this ever did happen…”

When it comes to the moment, how can you be sure we can still make good on your talk?

Specific vs Broad

There’s a time for details and there’s a time for broad strokes.

I find this balance really difficult, but when people get it right things really take off.

So when is the time for each one? Well, there’s no hard and fast rule sadly, that’s my difficulty. But there are some guidelines to help…

A mass of work.

If you have a monumental amount to get through, that is definitely a time for broad strokes. Writers say you shouldn’t edit as you go. Potato farmers say you shouldn’t count the potatoes as you’re throwing them in the truck (do they say this..? Potato farmers, let me know). When we have a lot to do, we should err on the side of broad strokes. There’s simply too much to be fussy.

Preparing.

This requires detail I think. Sometimes we’re encouraged to launch in fearlessly to a project and this might make us think broad strokes, but I think that’s wrong headed. We can launch ourselves in fearlessly and still do so with detail at the forefront. Fearless launching doesn’t have to be synonymous with ham fisted action. We can be bold in our attention to detail.

The best approach of course is to be awake to our tendency to be broad when we must be specific and be specific when we must be broad.

I think finding this balance unlocks some exciting stuff.

Becoming the phone

Opportunity is attracted to movement.

Ever notice how job offers, new clients and requests come flying in the moment you decide to focus on your own creation?

This seems to be true in the acting world. It’s like a Murphy’s law of sorts; you wait for the phone to ring and it never does. Then you decide to go build a sand castle and it’s ringing off the hook.

We have to be careful though…

We mustn’t make the sand castle to try and coax the opportunity; it doesn’t work that way.

We also mustn’t create movement for movement’s sake; creating more busy-ness doesn’t help.

The real secret is building a sand castle so grand and so exciting, that when the phone rings you genuinely consider not answering it.

That’s where the real juice is. When your sand castle is more compelling than someone else’s (and it will be, because you made it the way you like) you end up leaving them to do their thing and guess what?

You’ll be picking up the phone to call in some talented people looking to apply their skills.

Don’t wait for the phone.

Become the phone.

The actor in rehearsal

The actor in rehearsal is simultaneously like a kid on a playground and a bomb squad member cutting the red wire… or was it the green one?

Nowhere else have I experienced the utter joy of play and the deepest danger of humiliation.

Actors are uniquely bred to weather both of these.

Play too much and it dies for the audience (you can’t have all the fun, you have to let them it!)

Don’t risk anything and we might as well give the show a miss.

Great actors toe the line.

Andrew Scott said the job of rehearsal is for the actor to try everything they can possibly think of. He often feels humiliated, small, silly or dumb in rehearsal. And the fact that he is willing to do that, over and over again means he gets to deliver ‘Andrew Scott’ performances.

What can we learn from the actors rehearsal room orientation in other aspects o work?

Useful, inspiring and cool things

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