You Become Creative By Creating
Dr. Andrew Huberman talks about how the brain circuits that turn on before those involved in creativity are of the stress system. He used three analogies to explain this. 1) It’s like you have to wade through sewage before you can swim in clear water. 2) It’s like when you try to lift your max on the bench press—it takes time to work up to that weight. 3) It’s like your best creative work is on the other side of a door at the top of a staircase—it takes time and effort to get up the stairs and through that door. In other words, Huberman says, you become creative by creating. That’s the theme of this SIX at 6:
The Mumble Track
John Legend’s songs start with what he calls “the mumble track.” “It’s just me humming and mumbling nonsense,” he said. “And then the mumbles start to suggest different tones and rhythms, and then eventually, the lyrics emerge.”
Get Back
In Peter Jackson’s documentary series “The Beatles: Get Back,” three of the four Beatles are in the studio. “Lennon’s late again,” Paul McCartney says as he plugs his guitar into an amplifier. “Feeling the pressure of their approaching deadline,” the on-screen text reads, “Paul searches for [a] song.” With Ringo Starr and George Harrison sitting across from him, McCartney starts strumming, humming, and mumbling. At first, it sounds like nonsense. But within a few minutes, a melody starts to take shape. And then, out of the mumbles, some of the Beatles’ most enduring lyrics emerge. “Get back,” McCartney lets out. “Get back. Get back. Get back to where you once belonged.” George starts strumming. Ringo heads to his drums. Lennon enters, picks up his guitar, and seamlessly joins the composition. And just like that, from humming and mumbling nonsense, a Beatles classic was created.
Keep Forcing It, Forcing It, Forcing It
Borrowing from the first edition of this newsletter—in a conversation with the DJ and producer Zane Lowe, John Mayer picked up an acoustic guitar and demonstrated his songwriting process. “Well, I don’t always do it,” he admitted, “because it requires a stupid bravery all the time.” He strums a couple of chords. A nice melody begins to form—“you can sit here all day [doing this] and go, ‘okay, maybe that’s something.’” “But if you don’t go,” and then he improvises vocals, “sunlights beating on the corner of the walls / and I’m a Mr. know-it-all / heaven calls / get yourself right / get yourself right,” he stops playing, raises his finger to his mouth, “if you’re not ouija boarding immediately, you’re wasting time.” You just stare at the corner of the wall, Mayer explains then improvises some more, “stare at the corner of the wall / try to get it going on / but I can’t sometimes / you just keep going ’til you get something,” he stops singing. “You gotta keep forcing it, forcing it, forcing it…it doesn’t matter [what comes out of your mouth].”
The Down-Up Theory
In high school, Judd Apatow began his lifelong practice of interviewing his comedy and writing heroes. From interviewing hundreds of legendary artists, he said, he developed a very simple theory of creativity. He calls it the Down-Up theory: “get the ideas DOWN then fix them UP.” “Give yourself permission to suck. Anything goes. Just get something down.” Even if it’s nonsense—keep forcing it, forcing it, forcing it. “Then in a different session,” Apatow says, “go into fix-up mode.”
Just Start
Before I started this newsletter, I told Ryan Holiday I was just waiting to know for certain what I wanted to write about. “Just start,” he said. You’re trying to map out the whole 9 innings,” he said. “Just throw the first pitch…You’re better off starting imperfectly than being paralyzed by the delusion of perfection.”