The energetic (and not so energetic) cycle of creativity

by Sean MacEntee

What drives you to create?

I think most of us artistic types find that our creativity is cyclical. Some days (or weeks), we feel "on" and nothing can stop us. At other times, we can only muster the bare minimum required. I think the first step to sustaining these bursts of creativity is to accept that we can't be on all the time. On top of struggling with self-doubt, I think a lot of us struggle with the low weeks when we're merely steeping. By acknowledging the cycle, we can adapt and manage the low points in more healthy ways.

Although my motivation hasn't been lagging this week, my energy certainly has. I'm not quite sure what the culprit is, but I suspect diet and sleep are two factors. Perhaps the stress of the move is finally releasing its hold on me and sucking the energy I have. Just thinking of practicing causes me to yawn profusely and feel about ten times more exhausted. By the time I feel awake enough to even pull my flute out, it's too late at night.

This is the type of cycle I can control. I can eat more cleanly, I can improve my pre-bed routine, I can begin taking supplements, I can sleep less (sleeping more is sometimes not the answer to energy loss). This is when I'm grateful for the mindfulness I've infused into my life through somatics. I can listen to my body and make appropriate changes. Instead of foundering and entering into a negative self-talk cycle, I can instead make mindful changes to see if any of them help my energy levels match my motivation and desire to create.

Accept and acknowledge, but don't surrender. Appreciate the cycle with mindful observation.

Perspective: Abundance or Scarcity?

In my last post, I mentioned that I've been reading Rosamund and Ben Zander's book, The Art of Possibility. One of the first things discussed is the lens that people choose to view the world through.

Viewing life through a lens of scarcity means that nothing is ever good enough. There isn't enough work, too many musicians, your background isn't good enough, etc. This limits the viewer in an incredibly narrow way.

Open yourself up to abundance and (Zander is absolutely right on this) possibility begins to pour in.

I feel like I can be the poster child for scarcity since my life story began through what should be a lens of scarcity. I was born and raised in Southwest VA, culturally rich but not in classical music. Although I had a caring band director for the first three years as a flute student, I didn't necessarily have the opportunities that kids have living in urbanized areas...or did I?

Through this lens of scarcity, I began looking for opportunities. I began traveling 50 minutes one way every week to begin private lessons. I auditioned for the Kingsport Youth Orchestra, didn't get in, but kept trying anyway until I did. I entered local competitions. I went to music camps in the summer. I dreamed about Curtis, Julliard and Eastman. I began exploring the online message boards to learn as much as I could about playing the flute.

Regardless of my background, even though I had a whole realm of scarcity grounded in reality to contend with, I never stopped dreaming or trying.

When you view things through the lens of scarcity, your past hangs over you like a dark cloud. You never can seem to move past all the things that you blame for your lack of success. Self-doubt builds and your professional life continues to suffer.

If I chose to live my life in the realm of scarcity, I would not be doing the things I'm doing today. I wouldn't have the courage or confidence to step out. I only have a Bachelor's degree and it's not even from a major music school! What am I thinking?!

I could give you 50 more reasons why I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing if I operated this way.

The quote, "Life opens up with you do" could never be more true. Making a living in music gives you the freedom to take risks, explore life and learn things that a desk job will never teach you. We can return to our instrument every day and come away with a new awareness even if it is only just one tiny thing. That beats the daily routine where you're just counting your working hours down until you can go home.

Articulating the differences of the scarcity vs. abundance perspectives are key to letting go of those elements that hold you back. Life isn't fair, but we can make it more fair when we choose to live an abundant life full of possibility.

If there was an ever more important lesson I could teach to my 16 year old self, it would be this.

The Stages of Practice: the Taper

Remember my Practice like you Train post last summer?

With my Philly gig coming up in a couple of weeks, I'm quickly approaching my taper which is something I didn't mention in my previous post. In addition to varying your weekly practice into different types of "runs," consider the training stages as well.

In the winter, a lot of runners take time off from training and either build their base mileage (their foundational weekly mileage level) or run their current base mileage at a slower pace. Now that we're less than a week away from spring, a lot of runners I know are in training for their spring races. Training usually consists of easy runs, speedwork and long runs. At the end of training, runners go into a taper. They back off on their mileage and rest in between easy miles.

What does this mean to us as musicians, especially when learning a new recital program?

First off, I haven't prepared a full recital program since my college days. I've caught myself gravitating towards the way I used to prepare in college. It was focused and one-dimensional and I had successful recitals, but I'm curious to see how much more efficient I can make my practicing while incorporating all the other stuff I've learned since then with a full program.

I have found that the more into the "zone" (super focused, worried about technical aspects of the instrument, less self-aware) I get, the more self-doubt creeps in. I don't like this because it leaves me feeling tense and anxious.

Instead, I'm working for a few more days on the music on specific spots and then it will be a process of looking at the whole and really feeling the music flow. What do I want to communicate when I get on the stage on March 31? What is it that I have to say with the music I've chosen?

I'm finding myself doing a lot of listening and assimilating and not so much playing right now. Mental practicing has been especially useful and effective, too.

It feels good to reach this point of preparation and feel secure in the work that I've done. I'm increasingly excited to finally share myself with the world in my own self-produced show.

Listening to your body and mind during the stages of preparation for any performance is crucial for success. Trust that you can move to the next stage of your practice and have the faith to let go in order to freely give your music to the world.

Part One:"...but I practiced!" A practice strategy for learning a new piece

I have a student (we’ll call them “B”) who has dysgraphia, a learning disability. We have been working together for a year and it has been a very fascinating journey. B’s background is in special education, so I have benefitted from their expertise as I rise to the challenge in order to grow as a teacher and find new ways to teach music to those that process information differently.

Most private music teachers have a few strategies for helping dyslexic students since that "LD" is more common; however, unless the parent and student are up front, it can be difficult to realize you cannot teach in your usual manner with students who seem "lazy" or "don't try hard enough." Unfortunately, sometimes it isn't until the student gives up out of frustration and you feel like you’ve failed as a teacher that we realize missed opportunities. Since private music teachers are in no way trained or ethically able to diagnose a student, we must be patient, armed and ready with a variety of strategies and solutions for each problem that arises in order to customize a student's instruction.

I appreciate B for hanging in there with me. It has been a mutually beneficial path of discovery. Lately, we’ve had a series of lessons where we’ve been discussing practice strategies to help them systematically work on achieving a faster technique and ways to help them learn new repertoire faster. Thanks to a great conversation on twitter*, my own research and input from wonderful collaborative pianist and practice coach Erica Sipes, here is a strategic stepwise plan that I created for B in order to learn a new piece. I wanted to post this online for others that may have trouble seeing the trees for the forest.

What happens when you hit the wall and take longer than everyone else to achieve the same goal? What happens if you cannot use what we typically refer to as chunking (playing groups of notes with pauses in between to allow the brain to process short term information into its long term memory)? Use this practice plan to strategize and increase your chances of success in the practice room if you've tried other ways and they haven't worked so well.

I myself have been inspired to work in this new way especially with music that is out of my comfort zone. Going from larger to smaller details and back again creates a process that encourages confidence in the music.


Start with the big picture:

1) When learning a piece of music, outline the piece to get the big picture before moving on to details. Analyze the piece in order to determine its overall shape, phrase structure, range, key and key changes, and scalar and arpeggiated patterns. If you are able, analyze the piece's chord structure. Listen to the piece at this point to keep the big picture.

2) Play the piece through. Mark places immediately that you know will need attention, but don't get stuck on small mistakes. Stay focused on the big picture in this initial playing.

Begin learning and exploring the finer details of the piece:

3) Learn one musical idea at a time. Too often we get stuck on playing through the material until we feel somewhat comfortable. This way can be time consuming and inefficient. One idea suggested by Erica is to start from the end of the piece and work backwards on one musical idea at a time.

Working within the context of musical ideas versus chunks is one issue that I've encountered in my work with B. Because of the amount of time needed to learn a new piece, a chunk determined by number of notes and not musically becomes ingrained with the break that you take between each chunk. Practicing musical ideas keeps the phrases intact without arbitrary breaks in your final performance.

4) Practice by ear. Work with a recording to learn parts of music that is giving you trouble. I recommend this step especially if you're not a particularly aural person. B is visually dominant, and I suggested this step as a challenge. Practicing this way will help develop your ear and help you tune in to wrong notes and mistakes faster.

5) When you’ve worked through this process, play the piece through to find where you are. Mark any places that are still troublesome and work through the process again until you feel confident of the piece.

Ultimately, I think this process helps those who have trouble processing smaller details. Backwards chunking and practicing by ear for the smaller details help integrate these into the larger picture that you need in order to have a successful performance.

I encourage you to try this for yourself and see what happens. Instead of getting by on innate talent, sometimes a little more focus or discipline is needed in the practice room for the results you want. Stay open to experimenting and adapting the suggested steps in a way that works for you. If you had to adapt any of this to fit your personal needs, I would love to know. Please e-mail me at adelpalazzo (at) gmail.com.

Part Two will be about devising a technique practice strategy. Stay tuned!

*Thank you to my colleagues on twitter for a useful and practical discussion of practice techniques when I asked for advice. Be sure to follow @quartertonality, @TammyEvansYonce, @ericasipes, @AnythingPiano and @hickey_kim!

*Photo credits: Psychologies and Arctangent

Peeling back the Layers

Since I began seriously playing again, I have struggled with performance anxiety in ways that I don't recall ever experiencing. I have read books, talked to my teachers, and sought multiple performance opportunities in order to practice the skill of performing.

But I still feel like I fail. Why?

Interestingly enough, I had an epiphany sitting in my car listening to the radio. P!nk's song, "F'in Perfect," was on and I really started listening to the lyrics. All of a sudden, I realized that the negative performance experiences I had as a child are still affecting me emotionally and psychologically.

On a personal level, you can hide behind a shell of yourself. As a musician and an artist, you must lose that shell. Losing it can induce anxiety and self-doubt. There are different types of performance anxiety as listed in my colleague Marion Harrington's article; however, when I read these, I found that I couldn't exactly define how I suffer.

I began my musical journey as a singer. As a kid, I sang all the time. I would sneak into my brother's room, play a record, and sing along. If I didn't know the words, I made them up (I especially remember "La Bamba").

As I got older, I began singing in public. I could easily get up and sing in front of a church full of people. I was singing because I loved it, and I didn't have any preconceived notions about what I was supposed to do. I didn't start developing preconceived notions until I began entering talent shows at school.

I grew up in rural Southwest Virginia which is very religious. I sang anything my mom could find a taped accompaniment for, which was usually gospel or Christian contemporary music. And that's what I sang for my talent shows. The rejection that I remember most is a school assembly that I sang for. I don't remember the song, but I do remember looking up into the bleachers and seeing a boy mocking me.

I never tied this experience to my flute playing, but I think that it is a factor in how I deal with my anxiety. As I got older, I began burying more of my true self in order to fit in as most of us do. I have an "old soul," and I had only a few close friends. Because I find myself caught in the middle between those my own age and those older than me who I'm closer to in maturity, I have built layers of walls to protect myself from getting hurt in relationships with others.

We all build walls. Breaking them down in order to perform without fear is perhaps the most difficult part of our job.

Ultimately, this realization peeled back one more layer of my psyche to figure out exactly why I get anxious when I perform. My ease as a singer and a natural performer has evolved into a nervous adrenaline rush that affects my entire performance. It has struck at the beginning, in the middle, and sporadically.

How do I start to let go and enjoy the music?

My most recent post (Opening the Heartspace) is a step in the right direction. I actually started writing this post several months ago, but I've been letting it simmer. There was something there that although realizing that my childhood fears have followed me into adulthood, it doesn't explain everything.

There's something more. Perfectionism.

When we're children, we don't try to be perfect. We are able to perform without expectations or pressure. We sing/play/dance simply because we love to do it. Somewhere along the way, we learn that this isn't good enough. We must be perfect. We must please others. And when someone laughs at or mocks you, then you begin avoiding that which used to give you so much joy.

My experiences make me who I am today and I know who I am as a person, but the more I can break down the walls that I have built around myself to protect myself, the more true artistry will emerge in my teaching and on stage.

Here are some resources to help you overcome the "lizard brain" (as Seth Godin puts it):

Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity


Seth Godin's Linchpin

A Flutist's Self-Worth

A thread on the FLUTE list popped up that saddened me. The question of the distinction between amateur and professional players came up, and I read the thread with dismay. The original poster's intent was to ask the valid question why we flutists don't support each other more, but the resulting discussion didn't answer this question.

A certain flutist wrote who said that she is a "nobody in the flute world" because even though she leads a fulfilling musical life, the fact that no one knows her outside her own circle and she doesn't hold an orchestra or teaching position doesn't hold value in her eyes.

An unfortunate stereotype of flutists is that we're all catty, uber competitive, and self-centered. When I meet a new flutist, I always gauge the person to figure out their attitude. By the end of my time with them, I know whether they share the same philosophy of music making I do (if you've read the rest of my blog, you know how I feel about music) or whether they are purely career focused (i.e. constantly focusing on the orchestra audition circuit or teaching positions). When I pick up on the latter attitude, I usually come away a little deflated and questioning my own worth.

Seeking approval from others is a struggle for me. When I was in college, I constantly wanted the approval of my flute teacher. She was hard on me, and it took me years to realize that it was because she wanted the BEST for me. I wasn't in her studio to be told how good I was. I was in her studio to progress and become a better flutist...to better my chances of becoming a successful musician.

So what does "successful" mean? For a lot of flutists, this only means winning an orchestra or teaching job at a major school. Orchestra jobs are diminishing. The Philly Orchestra has declared bankruptcy, the Louisville Orchestra is no longer employing their musicians. Now, more than ever, flutists (and musicians everywhere) must be flexible and open to creating their own opportunities.

Your self-worth as a musician and as an individual should not be tied to what others are doing. We are musicians, with creative impulses and the ability to create opportunities for ourselves. This is what creative entrepreneurship is about. It's about taking control of your life and your destiny. It's about creating opportunities for yourself where none seemingly exist.

Do I struggle with self-doubt? Yes. But I struggle more with self-doubt when I find myself worrying about what others think especially those who have won those types of jobs we dream about in music school. My self-doubt dissipates when I stop worrying, and I start focusing on my own goals again.

If you have an idea for something great, pursue it. Don't let entrenched attitudes stop you. Winning orchestra and teaching jobs is the old way of thinking. Now, more than ever before is the time to seize on opportunities. The power of the internet and social media can take you from obscurity into something more.

Unfortunately, a lot of musicians don't know how to seize on these new opportunities. Instead, I meet a lot of flutists who had big dreams shattered by the harsh reality of the real world. Life often gets in the way of what we would like to have, but it doesn't mean that we should give up just because we can't win an orchestra audition or a teaching job.

Be flexible, adaptable, and true to yourself. Your musical career might take a path you didn't expect, but the path least travelled leads to the most fulfilling work.

Go out and create! Here are a few resources to help you get past self-doubt and start or rejuvenate your career:

Jade Simmons' Emerge Already! Blog

Beyond Talent by Angela Myles Beeching

The Savvy Musician by David Cutler