8 Clicks from Nowhere Productions

Category: Part 6 – Clicking Deeper

Building a self and a life around creative expression, putting in the hours, and learning from the effort. The heart of creating stuff.

Chapter List

  • Morning Person

    It’s nearly 8pm as I write this and I’m stumped.

    I do almost all my writing for this project in the mornings. I get a hot mug of tea, I set up in a quiet-ish place, I open up my word processing software, and I just start writing.

    It’s nearly 8pm as I write this and my family is out for the evening leaving me alone with a quiet house, no obligations, and drizzling bit of cozy weather outside. One would think I’d be up to my elbows in motivation, huh?

    Instead, I’m stumped.

    I’m writing about writing and how I can’t find the focus to write, which is exactly what writers do when they can’t find the motivation or inspiration to write what they are supposed to be writing. Ugh! Writers.

    Lucky for me I have a whole blog about this sort of thing.

    One set of advice will tell you (and I strongly agree) to treat creativity as a job. Sit down. Make the conditions. Get it done. Excuses are people who don’t finish their projects.

    But then—well—there is also a realistic part of me that acknowledges that productivity and progress on a project is also about knowing the conditions when you work best, having a routine, and being in the right frame of mind.

    I’m a morning person.

    I work best in the morning.

    I’m productive in the morning.

    I wrote this in the evening proving that I’m not rigidly locked to that schedule, but given the choice—well, you get the point.

  • Advice Less

    You may have found this blog project and be thinking that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

    There’s not really much advice here, you might be thinking.

    You’re not wrong, but you’re not right.

    This was never intended to be a manual about being a creative person. No. Not at all. It was meant to be a collection of thoughts on the accidental nature of creativity. I have no solid advice. I have no lists of skills to check off on your way towards success.  I have no morals or lessons or cautionary tales with polished insights at the end.

    This is a fumbling, imperfect exercise in abstraction. It is an daily exercise in being lost on a path that is as much about the journey as it is about a destination. Imperfection is the goal.

    You want a lesson?

    Fail more. Because it means you tried something and maybe learned.

    Embrace different. Because it might be the only way to stand out in a crowd.

    Close your eyes and ignore all the other advice. Because copying is what machines do and the humanity of creativity is something that might not be teachable so much as felt, gleaned, experienced, caught, or whatever.

    You’re not wrong. There isn’t much advice here, just a few notes from the last guy to wander this path and never really find his way out.

  • Pinch Poster

    This is not the post I had intended to drop here today.

    I’ve been keeping about a week and a half ahead of my schedule these days, writing posts, getting them queued up on the back end of the blog, giving myself both breathing room and time to go back over and revise stuff I’ve written before it goes live.

    And about two weeks ago I started a whole new series. It was going to be about a bunch of big projects I was going to tackle, and write big multi-part articles about.

    I wrote an introduction post that was supposed to go out instead of this post.

    It fumbled and flopped before it even launched. I was struggling getting the actual project done in the middle of writing all about how great it was going. [Slowly pulls back curtain and…]

    In this case, I realized that committing to the time to do the project itself was just out of the realm of reasonability as summer arrives and things get busier around our house. 

    I accept failure as a natural part of working on big ideas. Not everything is going to take and sometimes—like this past week—you’re going to find that you’ve bit off a bit more than you can chew on. Take the L and move on.

  • Idea Bank

    Case in point: I had been watching videos about creative note-booking strategies on YouTube, too many to make it worth linking to them, and thinking about my own process for tracking ideas, brainstorming and creative ideation, and I sat down to write this post.  In my notes, months ago, I had already written “an idea bank by carrying a notebook even a digital one is a foundational tool for creative” on a bulleted list at the top of a digital topic page somewhere.

    I keep an idea bank.

    It’s not complex.

    And that’s the whole point. 

    It’s simple. It’s low effort. It’s low friction, as the business gurus might put it.

    I use the notes app on my phone, keep a date-stamped note near the top of the list, and just add new post ideas to the top of the list when said ideas cross my mind. No bullet lists. No categorized planning. No grids or charts or bubble flows. Just note on list.

    Later, when I’m sitting in a cafe sipping on a tea I’ll go through them and copy-paste them into a giant living document that I have going where I write my posts. Personally, and this isn’t so much an endorsement as it is a I happen to use note, I use Scrivener on a Mac. It is billed as writing software and is the closest I’ve come to a big multi-document, cloud-synced, writers organizational platform as anything.  Results may vary, so do your own research for what works for you.

    Which is to say: keep it simple.

    I’ve gone simple and it works for me.

    If I had to put a point on this it would be merely to tell you that creativity happens anywhere at any time—you know that—and the best tool to capture that is not one that involves tapping some of that creativity to engage with it. The best tool to capture it is one that takes the absolute minimum space: a sheet of paper with a pen, a notebook you carry around with you, a voice memo, or the simplest text app on your phone.

    Bank on it.

  • Photo Flow

    I have been on the socials preaching a little bit on the gospel according to carefree photography.

    I’ll elaborate.

    I go on the various photo sharing feeds and I follow a lot of photographers. A lot.  And after a while it all starts to look the same. Beautiful close ups of animals. Gloriously lit mountain ranges. So many photos of our downtown cityscape with one of our two iconic bridges in the foreground that I start to feel like no one will ever find a way to photograph them in an original way ever again.

    My hot take comes down to the value of skill in combination with something almost more important: flow.

    All these photographers are amazingly skilled: they can meter a scene, frame a shot, and get the balance of colour and shape and tone just perfect—and sometimes super-realistic. I applaud it. Sometimes I even envy it.

    But I also know that those folks are almost certainly leaning into gear and time and technology to find those pictures.

    My challenge has long been this: take the dumbest, most terrible camera you can find—or use your phone—and find great shots while in the flow. I run the trails and pause for literal seconds to snap interesting shots. But there countless ways to replicate this approach in your own way: snap pics in motion or in the moment. Ditch the technology. Leave the expensive gear at home. Give yourself seconds, not minutes or hours to wait out the scene: be in the moment, rather than waiting for the moment.

    That’s where the interesting stuff is. 

    Because if all these amazing photogs could bring that skill and talent to more interesting subjects, tell stories as well as presenting perfection, just imagine the amazing photography that might emerge.