Put in the works

It’s a funny thing, the more I practice, the luckier I get. – Arnold Palmer

The more I photograph, the more I notice one crucial element with my creative practice; put in the works, don’t wait until the muse shows up. We put in the works to get ourselves ready and receptive whenever our source of inspiration or ideas suddenly hit. We start, we make mistakes, we make deliberate practice; and we begin to create. I find it much easier to follow through with the habit and keep creating, instead of picking it up when I feel like doing so. When too much time passes, I feel the rust and it is much harder to start anew and recreate the momentum where I have it left off. It is better to keep the faucet dripping, even a tiny drip is better than no drip at all.

The artist that builds the habit in creating regularly will inevitably, over time, find her voice, her subject, her technique. From my own experience, when I persist with my creative effort, over time, I will add my own take and nuances to the subjects. By making a habit of showing up, I learn to see potentials in whatever environment I am in, and by committing to the habit, I find myself continually show up to create despite there are times when I feel myself lacking the drive and motivation.

Whenever I find myself holding my camera, I know it takes effort to produce for I oversee my creative practice. At times, it feels demoralizing when I struggle to find new ideas, new subjects. Yet, I learn to embrace the highs and lows that come with the territory of being creative. It is never smooth sailing, especially if I want to challenge myself and continue to grow, I will have to embrace the struggle, knowing whatever rough patches I face, that too will pass. This riding through different waves of creativity also comes with practice. If I don’t go through the troughs regularly and learn to rise above them, I would not have built my muscle to carry myself forward when the times call for it.

Everyone has self-doubt when it comes to creating. That critical voice in my head gets harsh and loves to sabotage whatever momentum I have. Author Steven Pressfield calls that harsh critic in our head the resistance. The resistance stands between you and your creative output. The time when you don’t feel like going out to make photographs because you feel like you have done it all, and there is nothing new you can contribute.

Another barrier is perfectionism. We strive for perfection because we don’t want any criticism. It’s better to keep a blank slate and risk being criticized than to put ourselves out there. We don’t want to make messy work, we don’t want to go out on sunny days because the light is harsh, we don’t want to photograph between the hours of noon to 6:00 p.m. They are excuses to keep us feel safe.

What helps us moving beyond those barriers is a creative ritual. Every creative person who is good with his medium learns to form a ritual. They make meaningful work because they form their rituals, and they continue to practice. They form creative habits, sticking to them so they don’t rely on sheer willpower. One of the most famous rituals comes from choreographer Twyla Tharp. Her book “The creative habit” outlines her daily ritual.

“I begin each day of my life with a ritual: I wake up at 5:30 a.m., put on workout clothes, my leg warmers, my sweatshirt, and my hat. I walk outside my Manhattan home, hail a taxi, and tell the driver to take me to the Pumping Iron gym at 91st Street and First Avenue, where I work out for two hours. The ritual is not the stretching and weight training I put my body through each morning at the gym; the ritual is the cab. The moment I tell the driver where to go I have completed the ritual.”

My photography practice has revealed new insights about who I am as a creator, it also gives me a sense of purpose. With my commitment to the practice, I reap the benefits of the joy and fulfillment it brings forth to my life.