improvement

It’s very difficult to be honest with yourself. It’s very difficult to dig through your character, your life, and your actions and really think about what is good and bad.

I’m not speaking of figuring out what our flaws and merits are (though that can be quite difficult as well), I’m talking about bringing yourself to think about such things. I decided, early Friday afternoon to take stock of what’s been going on in my life (I believe the idea came up because we have yearly performance reviews at work next week).

And yet, I haven’t been able to do it. I’ve put it off; done other “meditative”, “contemplative”, and “reflective” things (spending several hours in the park and driving around Charleston is not necessarily a bad thing, but I can not deny I was avoiding my self-reckoning). It’s scary to look deeply and honestly at ourselves; things like church (for those who participate) force us to do this to some extent, but a full job of it rarely occurs.

Why is this? Do we feel some pressure for the action to lead to a transformed “you”, a magical movie moment whereafter everything changes? Do we fear that we’ll uncover a failed life thus far? Do we wish to repress our mistakes and vices? I’m not sure. For me I think it’s a bit of all of those reasons, plus more I can’t articulate.

I do know that it’s a very good step (perhaps the best) to improve oneself; but there may be a reason so many people talk about it happening after a terrible, dark time (ending up in jail, getting addicted to drugs, a broken marriage, or a devastating injury). It’s not easy, but sometime it is a necessity.

Last semester in my Creative Nonfiction class, I learned the importance of revision. I had been a notorious “first-draft submitter” throughout high school and college. My thinking generally tends to be pretty reactionary, and very in the moment.

However, the grading, the meetings, and the classmates simply required me to revise my writing projects several times over. Naturally, (as seasoned writers out there probably understand) my writing significantly improved (and lead to some of the best writing I’ve ever done). But to be honest; I’m not very good at revision.

The difficulties of proofreading your own writing are well documented. It’s not easy to read something you’ve already written (because you subconsciously fill in what you intended to write). I feel like revision faces a similar problem; you have to perceive the faults of your own ideas. You have to question the way someone (who isn’t intimate with the ideas of your work) will see and interpret your work for the first time. It’s not easy.

The best way to go about it may be to make things concrete. Something I’d like to try (this applies for really any kind of art; writing, fashion, painting, music):

- Write down exactly what your intent with your work is. What ideas do you want the user/reader/viewer to understand? What emotions to you want them to feel? In what order? What do you want them to see first, to hear first? What do you want to stick in their mind the longest? How do you want them to describe it to a friend?

- Then, look at your piece through the lens of each of these questions (whichever ones you find applicable, at least). What portions (text, figures, sounds) contribute to these goals? Which ones detract? Can you confidently point to reasons that your work works as intended?

This is no easier than any other method of revision. In fact, it may be harder, but I think there’s a good chance of it being pretty effective. It doesn’t really let you hide.

And yes, there is a good reason for me to have revision on the brain right now…

This weekend, I rewatched one of my favorite movies, The Bourne Identity (two of my other favorite movies are, of course, The Bourne Supremacy and The Bourne Ultimatum). The film is an exquisite mix of action, emotion, and philosophy; an action film that doesn’t move too quickly, and actually makes you think about some deep issues (identity, morality, the value of lives).

In general, I really enjoy spy/action type movies/shows (Bourne, Bond, Alias, Mission Impossible), because they paint a very stylized, glamorous view of life as a spy/CIA Agent. This depiction is naturally false, but a lot of fun to imagine. Specifically, we all imagine being able to perform the amazing physical and mental feats of characters like Jason Bourne, James Bond, et. al.

Enviable Skills

Of course, these characters aren’t just born with the ability to scale German Banks, fight off police officers, or win car chases. Just like being the best at anything, it’s all about preparation. The famous quote goes (paraphrasing):

It’s not whether you have the will to win, it’s whether you have the will to prepare to win.

If you’re hanging from a roof by your hands, it doesn’t matter how hard you try to pull yourself up. What matters are the pullups you did every week for the last four years, building your grip and back muscles.

It translates to less dramatic (or dangerous) situations as well. Your performance on a calculus test has very little to do with how hard you think about the problems now. It has everything to do with how well you learned the material weeks ago, and how well you prepared for the exam.

As if your life depended on it

When Jason Bourne trains (memory, strength, social interaction), he does it with the knowledge that his life is likely to depend on his training in the near future. Would you quit your sniper training a few hours early (because you were bored) in his situation? Would you slack off on your weightlifting program, your diet?

There are several characteristics to a Bourne-esque training:

• Follow-through. Bourne doesn’t go halfway on training, because halfway could mean dead. This means that if you know that marketing course is important, you don’t quit in the middle. If developing an extraordinary jump shot is what you need to compete in basketball, you don’t stop at “very good.”
• Metrics Bourne doesn’t guess how much training he needs. He decides that he needs to be able to run a 5-minute mile, to be able to shoot a four-inch target from 200 yards, to be able to call a hotel and get information in less than thirty seconds. Metrics provide concrete training goals; they must be set high enough to ensure later field success, and then must be attained.
• Testing Further, Bourne doesn’t leave the results to chance. If he needs to be able to do thirty pullups, he’ll make sure he can do thirty-five in training. If you need to pass a physics exam, you can test your knowledge against old tests, or old questions. Only when you can pass (hopefully a harder version) an artificial situation should you feel comfortable with your preparation.

Do you treat your preparation like your life depends on it? How could you improve if you did?

-Barry

Today I’d like to expand off of a quote I provided in my review of The War of Art yesterday:

(via Somerset Maugham) “Someone once asked Somerset Maugham if he wrote on a schedule or only when struck by inspiration. ‘I write only when inspiration strikes,’ he replied. ‘Fortunately it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.”

A lot of people just beginning creative endeavors (and some experienced people as well) have notions that inspiration just manifests itself; that we have to wait for it, by being idle, or by praying, or simply by waiting.

Picture by ooOJasonOoo on Flickr.

Inspiration doesn’t just come in a box.

People are deceived by the results of filtering; they only see the “genius” idea that makes it mainstream, not the thousand of other ideas (some very good) that the artist had before that one. Inspiration is a direct result of large numbers; the more ideas you get and execute, the more you’ll improve, and the more likely you are to hit on “the big one.”

Often, this means sitting down at your computer to write every morning at nine. The results aren’t always going to be incredible, awe-inspiring, or even tolerable. But they build a habitual flow of ideas and improvement that leads towards greatness.

Keep going.

-Barry

The more I think about and seek out good design, the more I find it (often in unexpected places). People (designers included) often miss out on opportunities to manifest good design; those who take those opportunities often win (by getting a contract, being highly regarded in their field, etc.).

It extends to projects and concepts you might not think of (until you see incredible design, or design in progress, as I did today).

While coming back from the football stadium (for my running class (being a second-semester senior at college is wonderful)), I came across two small palettes of bricks; one destroyed and one looking quite pristine.

The broken one (I imagine) looked like this originally:

Photo by whiteblot on Flickr
.

The second (intact) one, looked more like this, except in different colors (even nicer ones, I thin

Photo by e453753 on Flickr.

Underneath the more “designed” brick blocks was a cardboard sign which indicated the following:

- 40% Sunny Wheat
- 30% Red Flash
- 30% Gunmetal

Puzzled for a moment, I wondered what that meant. Then, as I looked closely at the constructed mini-wall, I realized that they were the colors and proportions of the bricks. It became instantly clear that a lot of thought went into the construction of the prototype wall; the balance of colors, homogenous mixing of bricks, and contrast levels throughout the wall.

That bricklayer wins.

Instead of taking the standard mix of bricks and throwing them together haphazardly in making a building, clear thought and design was taken, even before the actual construction. I guarantee this bricklayer’s buildings look great (much better than average).

In actuality, laying bricks is likely a small job for the person who did this (who is probably part of a large contracting company). Instead of treating it as a small (it is), unimportant (it isn’t) task, it was treated as an opportunity for design.

What opportunities for design are you passing up?

- Do you think about your shoelaces when getting dressed?
- Do you revise your essays for class, not just for errors, but to make improvements?
- Do you think about the color scheme in your apartment? In your logo? On your stationary?
- Do you think about the formatting of your error reports?
- Do you think about commenting your code in a readable fashion? A funny and humorous fashion?

Always room for improvement.

-III