Mis-takes and Remixes
"His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.” - James Joyce
You may recognize this in your creative life and your life in general. You make what you think is a mistake. You may spend time and energy and emotion bemoaning that things aren’t the way you wanted them to be. You may blame yourself with harsh recriminations. You may blame others for causing you to make the horrible mistake.
Or you can choose to spend as little of your life force on all that. Instead of trying to force your will on the project, just walk away for a bit. Come back later to see things as they are. Then figure out what can be done.
What are the possibilities here now? Is there some way this ‘mistake’ is pointing you in a better direction? How do you make it right?
This is so clear and immediate in creative process. Say that you glue something down in a collage and scare the cat in another room with the loud AGH! because you see it’s just wrong wrong wrong. You try to peel it off before the glue takes hold, but it leaves a remnant of paper. You try to scrape that off, but doing so removes a bit of the vital image on the layer underneath.
In disgust and frustration, you go huffing off to find the cat and force it to let you pet it. The knowing creature swats you and your bad energy away. You go out for a coffee a few blocks away, and while standing in line, a little kid tugs your pant leg and holds up a sticker from their new stash. The nanny explains there was a sale at the stationery store next door. You thank the kid as you take the offered gift: a pirate skull and crossbones. You say ARGH! to each other, all three of you. You place the boon in the coat pocket over your heart.
When you go home with your coffee, you pass the cat on its throne and now it rolls over and permits a short belly rub. You step gingerly into the room where your ruined work waits judgement. It definitely still looks like a cock-up. You sip your coffee and hold your hand over the mis-glued area and everything else looks okay. You realize this blemished area is the last part of the whole piece. You look around for what other image or shape or pattern might fit there that doesn’t just look like a Band-Aid. You try this and that, but nothing suits.
And then you go back to your coat hanging by the door and fish out the kid’s sticker. You place it there on your piece, moving it around at different angles, until a Tibetan bell rings out in the recesses of your brain. Stop. You memorize the placement and carefully peel off the sticker back. When you smooth it down and step back, you feel and hear the clunk in your belly that means complete.
You go from AGH! to ARGH! and wonder if that kid was placed there behind you by the curious gods of collage.
What’s important here:
Identify the mis-take.
Know when to pause, step back, let go.
Go out into the world, let the world in.
Without seeking, receive what boons are offered.
Let your creation tell you when it’s done.
(Don’t expect your cat to fix your bad mood.)
I developed a workshop offering that did not run. Wrong timing, structure, something. Instead of being disappointed, I immediately looked to better possibilities, what this thing really wanted to be. Paring down to the core intention and building out from there. The new format is so much better, and I’m excited to set it in motion. Check out the new format of Cutting Edge Collage: Invoking the Leader in You
