Early morning habits
Too long ago, I went to the gym every day. At seven a.m., the doors opened and a small group of us would shamble in and begin lifting weights. I had a little notebook in which I charted my regimen and recorded my progress; accumulating the little pencil scrawls kept me committed for close to a year. I was pretty intense about it, seven days a week, rain or shine, always at 7 a.m. If I overloaded the stack of iron and strained a rhomboid, I would switch to a leg routine for the next few days until I healed. But I had to keep going
I took a fair amount of pleasure in how my body developed. I wasn't a steroid freak or anything though some of the other 7 a.m. crew were a little scary, particularly a couple of the women with lats like pterodactyl wings and neck as thick as my thighs. For me, weight lifting felt like a creative act; I liked how my arms felt like they belonged to someone else, like touching a horse or a large dog's back. I had made my body into something, something essentially useless as I rarely had to lift toppled trees off cars or open jars of pickles, but something hand-crafted nonetheless. I don't even know how healthy the whole thing was: I almost always hurt somewhere and woke up each 6:30 wincing and groaning.
When it was still cold and dark outside, Patti would urge me to stay in bed but I would refuse. There was simply no room for discussion. If I missed a day, I would lose momentum, my streak would end. I was convinced that I had to be 100% committed to my routine. The pathological drill sergeant in my head gave my will zero room for excuses.
Then my sister said she wanted to join me. For a week or so, she met me every 7 a.m. and it was fun to have someone to work out with. Till one morning she called me at 6:45 and croaked that she didn't feel like going today, that I should take the day of too. So I did. And the day after that and so on. I never went back to the gym again.
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Habit is enormously powerful. The bad ones are easy to pick up and a drag to shake. Each bad habit starts by stifling a voice in your head, the one that knows better, and says 'go ahead, just try it' and leads you to drag that first cigarette though you know it'll lead to the grave, to accompany every burger with fries, to flop on the couch in front of the tube, to drink too much, talk too much, do too little.... The angel on your shoulder doesn't stand a chance.
For me, developing good habits requires the same sort of censorship. However, this time I have to stifle the voice that leads me astray, to be absolutely rigid in my refusal to capitulate. It works best when I have an inflexible routine, like my 7 a.m. appointment at the gym.
These days, NPR wakes me up at 6:57 a.m., and I go mechanically through a series of maneuvers that have me walking up the street and arriving at my desk at 8:30 while the office is still cold and empty. I am at my most productive in that first hour. I'd love to add another hour to my morning, to rise before six and really get something done with my first cup of joe. I haven't muscled myself into that harness yet.
What does this sort of rigidity mean when it comes to creativity? Can you be so iron-clad and expect your imagination to function just because you have put it on a regimen? Will the ink lie cold in the pen? Will the mind stay half-asleep?
Not if you insist. The muse can be put on a tight schedule. I have had to come up with ideas, on deadline for decades and, if anything, things flow more easily when you bear down on the brain. It's not guaranteed but showing up is half the job. If I am focussed, resolved, and present, ideas will come.
I'd like to be more disciplined about my drawing. When I have an illustration assignment or a commitment to another like sketchcrawling, I can deliver. I just did it in Paris, crawling out in to the cold rainy dawn to draw. But it's not as much fun as when I am suddenly inspired to pick up the pen. It feels like work. But maybe that's because I am irregular in my early morning sessions. I mean, I could stagger over to the gym tomorrow at 7 am and bench press something but it would not be fun.
My pal, Tom Kane, has a great habit. When he walks into his office each morning, he snaps on his computer, loads the NY Times homepage and draws something from one of the lead stories in a Moleskine reserved for the purpose. Each day, at least one drawing of a newsmaker. Only then does his work day begin. His book is full now, brimming with great caricatures and portraits, built one drawing at a time. His drawings muscles ripple. Of course, he does not stop there; he draws New York City most days, detailed pen and ink drawings that fill the page from corner to corner. Tom's compulsive too. He cannot stop until every square inch of paper is covered and crosshatched. He tells me he doesn't do it because he enjoys it; he does it because he has to. He's got the habit.
A record of my exploration into all aspects of drawing, illustrated journaling, creativity, and the inspiring aspects of art. By the author of "Everyday Matters," "The Creative License", and "An Illustrated Life" and other books.
Comments
Hi Danny,
I'm guessing you've read this, but if not:
The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life
by Twyla Tharp
Speaks of this concept exactly. Happy New Year!
Jen
Posted by: Jen | January 3, 2005 09:37 PM
I absolutely love the look of the (presumably) digitally colored picture with this post! By the way, I just spent Christmas week in Paris - don't know if you were there long enough to see this as well, but who sent out the national memo that the French Christmas colors this year would be orange and pink?! I've posted a handful of photos of my Parisian adventure at www.flickr.com/photos/poundstone...I also filled up two entire sketchbooks; I plan to post some pages on my Fotolog Web site over the next few weeks. Inspiring city. Can't wait to see the finished product of your work in Paris.
Posted by: Jessica | January 3, 2005 09:38 PM
I fell seriously off the gym wagon for the first time in November '03, when my mother came to live with us. I limped along after that, but my rhythm had been thrown off. Then in August '04, she had a significant setback, and the gym thing became very sporadic. Another bump-in-her-road in early December, and with that, plus the usual busyness of December, the gym faded away.
Mom has rebounded, and our lives are coming together again. I returned to the gym for the first time yesterday. The last time I had been there was Nov. 18th.
In some respects, I was glad not to be slogging thru the routines (though not at 7:00 a.m.!)...but by Christmas, I knew that if I did not get myself back there, in three more months I would be looking like most of the people my age.
Having had this long "time out", I have a renewed zest for working out again. It is not something I do for the "fun" of it (although it can be quite social). I do it because in the short run, I feel better and stronger and more focused...and in the long run, I'm convinced this will help me (unforseen events notwithstanding) to remain better and stronger and more focused.
In the midst of my mother's problems, my daily grid -- which I had kept faithfully for three months -- stopped. I wasn't sorry to see it stop, actually--it was becoming a "chore".
I HAVE, however, thru all of this, kept up my daily visual journal. Many many nights, it is 1:00 or 2:00 a.m., and I can barely get myself to think of anything to write or draw. At those moments, I remind myself that getting ANYTHING on the paper is good; that this is the very reason I am doing the journals in the first place: so that my daughters will know that Mom had days like that. Every now and then, even at that ungodly hour, the page turns out pretty good! I guess I'm a night person.
Though I'm in the early autumn of my life, I am in the toddler stage of my art life. I am filled with wonder at what I have accomplished, and wonder at all that I have still to learn. This process is FUN. Truthfully, it is beyond fun. It challenges and enriches me every time I am doing it, reading about it, or thinking about it.
Your comment (that sometimes it feels like work, when you've got a deadline to meet) affirms what I feel would definitely be true for me. Spontaneity (sp?) is part of what I love about it. Too much else in life is regimented.
Thanks for this post, as it has helped me to appreciate both my return to the gym and to fitting ART into the ebb and flow of life.
Posted by: Rita | January 3, 2005 10:38 PM
thank you for the insight on habits. I've been working on starting the good ones and ending the bad ones, but lost steam. Reading this made me realize its not about steam...so thanks!
Posted by: Megan | January 3, 2005 11:15 PM
I, too. love the look of this drawing!!
Such words of wisdom about the routines and habits. On New Years Eve and Jan 1st I chose a small handful of bad habits that I'm replacing with good ones. I believe that I can stick with them, because I've had good results in the past with others.
Routine is definitely my friend...rather than making more feel more confined in doing artwork, it gives me so much more freedom!
Posted by: Amy | January 3, 2005 11:23 PM
hi Danny
I think you can only "insist" so much with routine. I spent years insisting only to wind up ill and unable to do almost anything. These days I'm trying to insist less and have a gentler routine. I'm amazed how much gets done, drawn and enjoyed.
Happy New Year to you and yours.
Best wishes from Wales
Posted by: Michael Nobbs | January 4, 2005 02:57 AM
Last words reminded me Robert Crumb... "Drawing is only an excuse to hatching"
Posted by: David | January 4, 2005 05:46 AM
ah...and about those voices...
Posted by: fern | January 4, 2005 06:58 AM
Danny, I hear you. You may remember that I use artist journaling as a starting point in much of my work. This means I am not constantly drawing, I may paint or collage. Last week we went on vacation and I brought my journal, paint and pens. I fell in love with the cactus surrounding me and had a time settling down and focusing enoughtro draw. When I don't draw regularily I freeze up. I even sometimes convince myself that I don't draw well.
... It is time to organize a sketchcrawl! we are at the 6 month mark! :)
Posted by: Melanie | January 4, 2005 07:56 AM
Man, I love this entry. Thank you for writing it.
your friend,
penelope
Posted by: penelope | January 4, 2005 08:53 AM
Hi Danny;
New Yorkers!!!! "...8:30 while the office is still cold and empty..." Wow! I guess you guys must have been the inspiration for that Army ad a few years ago. I will paraphrase " I do more before 8:30 than New Yorkers do all day long!" or something along these lines . Love reading your blog.
Posted by: oldcyberdude | January 4, 2005 09:12 AM
Your essay is so timely for me, Danny. I took some time off over Christmas and I got back to drawing, doing at least a page a day. I swore I'd keep it up when I got back into the work week, but we're only on day two and I haven't drawn a thing. I don't have the ability to draw act work (big bad bosses and judges), so I try to draw at night and find myself looking at the four walls of my bedroom and being totally uninspired.
I'm going to borrow your friend's idea and start drawing from the newspaper and magazines. Thanks for the spark.
Posted by: Loretta | January 4, 2005 12:29 PM
Danny,
"The muse can be put on a tight schedule" - this is a pearl of insight that is Big News to me. Will be looking to explore this aspect...many thanks, Maria Valentino
PS Love to all the Gregorys, an elusive bunch...
Posted by: Maria Valentino | January 4, 2005 12:40 PM
I've got the same ritual, only in reverse. If I haven't drawn anything on a given day, before my head hits the pillow at night I'll pick up the closest magazine and draw. Anything. I'll draw an animal, a piece of fruit, a baby's face. An old woman's hand. It doesn't matter. You just draw.
Posted by: Karen Winters | January 5, 2005 02:36 AM
Michael, I agree with you there! Routine is good..yet being too rigid is not!! There's a happy medium between staying on a strict schedule and letting it all fall to pieces!
I have been sort of saying this to myself the past few days and it helps me stay focused if I've felt that I've lapsed:
Two steps forward, one step back. Now keep going!
Posted by: Amy | January 5, 2005 08:27 AM
Makes me think that I've got to go to the gym.
Posted by: Trish | January 5, 2005 12:22 PM