To produce great creative work, move at pace. Abandon any desire for quality and simply focus on churning out quantity instead.
This holds true at every step of the way — the initial glimmer of an idea; a rough first draft; any edits and revisions; and even the final polishing.
Of course, this is easy to suggest but much harder to actually do…
I regularly remind myself to judge success or failure purely by measuring the sheer volume I put out with no regard for anything else.
Yet I soon find myself rebelling against my own intentions. Slowing down to try and make things ‘good’ yet again.
I always start out mostly ok. But I fail to fully commit to the process. I fall into the trap of targeting quantity because I hope it will get me to quality. And so that desired target still exists somewhere in the back of my mind — leaving me unable to truly let go and merely create.
This simply doesn’t work.
Our minds aren’t fooled that easily. They can sense when we still want quality at the end.
So merely paying lip service to the idea will get you nowhere. You’ve got to be genuinely willing to produce large amounts of rubbish if that’s what comes out. You’ve got to actually mean it when you say that you don’t give two hoots for quality. Unless you’re all in on that, then the whole thing falls apart.
And the key thing here is to accept that this is always going to be hard.
Why did you get into creative work in the first place? I can guarantee that it wasn’t to churn out a mountain of mediocre crap. You want to produce great work. So it’s inevitably going to be hard to leave that desire behind while you create.
Here’s a way of looking at it that works well for me (doesn’t totally solve the problem. But does make it a bit easier):
When I set out to create without attachment, then the logs are dried. The kindling is ready. That much I can do myself. But the fire still needs a spark to ignite — and nothing can guarantee it will come.
Things are uncertain and I’m ok with that.
But as soon as I demand quality outputs then I’ve thrown a bucket of water over everything.
Prodigious volume of output is no guarantee that I’ll get the quality I desire. But hanging onto the need for quality is the very thing that will block me from achieving it.
It’s still hard to let my desires go in this way. Because I always want to produce great work. I’m terrified of starting on any good ideas I have because what if I do a terrible job this time?
And this is where a curious paradox comes in…
It feels like the better option to leave those “good” ideas until the times when you’re at your best. But I often find it’s better to deliberately tackle them on those days where you feel devoid of inspiration and spark. Not because those are the days where, magically, something great happens (though this is much more likely than you’d guess). But because this is the work required to finally shed that burden of the need for quality.
When you go into a session on something that you feel could be great — and there’s nothing in the tank… That’s when you’re forced to stop striving and hoping you can make it great through sheer dint of effort.
Instead, you already know that the game is up. That you’re at the mercy of the muse, or the elements, or whatever. You know that it’s beyond YOU to steer this thing and you’ve got to hand over control to chance or to greater powers.
That’s when you truly sacrifice your ego in service of the art itself.
And, the more you do this, the more chance you have to get out of the way. Do nothing but become an agent of creation when you work. No judgement or desire for success — just a simple ,empty vessel that the muse can work through.