8 Clicks from Nowhere Productions

Tag: amateur efforts

Chapter List

  • Great Wall

    I am just as tempted as anyone to aim for greatness when I try to create anything. 

    So often, I will throw everything against the metaphorical wall and assume that something should stick. It is a slick wall, though. Sticking anything is tough enough, but sticking everything is nigh impossible. 

    Greatness, in my opinion is not something that comes from the instant success of anything. It does not emerge whole cloth from the engine. It does not top the bestseller list on a first draft. It does not rocket up the charts as if gravity has no bearing on it. It does not immediately stick to the wall fully formed.

    Greatness is earned.

    Greatness is the work of countless attempts, even though most of those attempts will only be witnessed by you and often worse-than-ignored by others; scorned or mocked, or rejected with passionless impunity.  

    Greatness is beset by setbacks and slippery walls.

    I always aim for that great wall. 

    And yet I have learned that it is out there, probably lurking in a shadow, avoiding being found. Avoiding the light. Avoiding the ease by which we assume it has been discovered and stuck. Slippery.

    We see success all the time. We see it in other people having achieved it through their own efforts and so we likely assume they took their shot and caught it with only a trivial bit of work—and almost certainly we are wrong. We didn’t see the shards of countless failed attempts heaped on the floor below. We never do.

  • Ten Diamonds

    Jokingly I would tell people who liked my photographs that I was not so excellent at taking pictures as they suspected: after all, I only ever showed them the good pictures.

    But then it wasn’t exactly a joke, either. 

    See, I think there is a difference between expertise and amateurism, and explaining it is tangled up in my own creative efforts. I am an amateur artist, an amateur photographer, an amateur musician. And I am confident in claiming so because the difference between amateur and expert work isn’t always the output, but rather the effort required to be consistently good at the form. 

    I can make good stuff. But I am admittedly inconsistent.

    In photography I called it my one-in-ten rule: if I took ten pictures, one of them was generally pretty good. Again, I could make good stuff, just inconsistently.

    Inconsistency has a way of nipping you in the backside when you take on a gig to photograph an event, or are asked to sketch with an audience, or need to stand on a stage and play an instrument. Noodling in your basement and occasionally having a terrific night is fundamentally different from  performing on demand. One is the realm of amateurs with wisps of talent, the other is the domain of experts.

    And really. I don’t mind being the diamond in the rough, but admitting there is often much more rough than diamond is also about admitting that you can do these crafts for merely the enjoyment of them, too, and that’s not a joke at all.

  • Amateur Appeal 

    I recently wrote a piece on this blog about breaking from the conformity of rules when we create, suggesting in my two-hundred word blog-conforming limit that stepping outside of the guardrails presented by this idea of your art needing to be so-called “commercial viable” might be a means to escape from a constraint imposed on your feeling of accomplishment and ability.

    I was thinking about this in a different context: the amateur effect.

    That is to say, sometimes amateurs create things that break rules not because they want to break away from constraints of the form, and also not because they are unencumbered by a debt to the patronage of a person or system that limits professionals, but rather, simply because they simply haven’t internalized those same rules that might otherwise limit them. They break rules because they didn’t know they existed, and occasionally stumble upon something worth considering through that process.

    It is, of course, far from given that amateurs can de facto make interesting contributions to an art just because they are new to the craft, and even if we could, it could also be argued that accidental creation is neither consistency nor necessarily something to be proud of.

    But it is interesting, the notion that I might take up a new hobby in a style of music, or mode of painting, or craft of prose and by virtue of accident make something not just reasonably good, but rule-bending enough for someone better at the effort to consider their cherished rules and skills as something that can, on occasion, be bent a little bit.