64 pages • 2 hours read
Rick RubinA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The Creative Act presents a unifying theme that incorporates the artist, the art, and the universe under single way of being. Creativity as a way of life encapsulates Rubin’s philosophy of creativity as a way of thinking and living. Rubin believes creativity is available to everyone. Importantly, Creativity as a way of life is not just a mindset, but a practice of existence. On this point, The Creative Act embraces the conventions of the self-help genre by giving readers specific activities and ideas that can improve their lives. As stated in the opening chapter, “[c]reativity is a fundamental aspect of being human” (1), and therefore is inherent within everybody, even if they think of themselves as artists or not. Anyone can tap into their creative potential by practicing awareness and paying attention to the world around them. Rubin integrates the accessible and democratic nature of creativity throughout the book. In Chapter 36, “The Abundant Mindset,” Rubin describes artists how artists open themselves to the constant flow of ideas coming from the universe to practice their creativity. The point of cultivating creativity as a way of life is to train the capacity for creating, completing, and releasing art and work. Rubin also clarifies that artist’s exist outside the traditional disciplines of music, literature, fine arts, acting, and film. Anyone who creates is an artist, and therefore, possesses creativity as a way of life.
To train for creativity as a way of life requires practicing awareness of the world and detachment from the self. Regular practice in an artistic craft or skill, as well as meditation and physical activity can help artists develop this way of being. Rubin also places special importance on embracing this lifestyle, and consequences for rejecting it. To disregard the call of being an artist is, in his words, a “violation of nature” (391). In this manner, Rubin assigns a value to the role of the artist that exceeds human morality and enters the spiritual cosmic. The law of the universe, always ineffable, demands that artists practice their creativity in service of art. Rubin doesn’t describe what specific consequences one would face if they rejected creativity as a way of life, but the implication he assigns is clearly negative. To dismiss this instinct is to obstruct the natural order of the universe. Readers, along with Rubin, can only imagine the repercussions for such an infraction. Creativity as a way of life unifies the text thematically, while also providing an ethical imperative for the audience.
The Creative Act applies terminology and key concepts of Zen Buddhist philosophy to persuade the audience about the validity of its recommendations and arguments. Although never stated explicitly, Rubin draws on the central tenets of Zen Buddhist philosophy in his advocation for meditation, awareness, no-self, sangha, and transcendence. This guide distinguishes between Zen Buddhism—an Asian religion comprised of various sects, scriptures, traditions, and teachings—and Zen Buddhist philosophy, which applies the former’s study of knowledge, reality, and existence into a secular framework. Rubin uses Zen Buddhist philosophy as means of translating many of his recommended creative practices. Finding an artistic group for collaboration and sharing work relates to the practice of sangha, a community of Buddhist monks and practitioners. Meditation as a means of cultivating awareness has been a practice of Buddhism since its inception. The concept of no-self as the expression of the entirety of the universe within the artist translates to the Buddhist term, annatā. The “I”/ego doesn’t exist, according to Rubin and Zen Buddhist philosophy. Rather, the self is an illusion created by the process of thinking. Rubin, too, disregards reason and logical thought as an avenue for creative activity. The truest expression of the self lies not in the controlling tendency of the ego, but in the openness of the no-self.
Several key texts written during the post-World War II era of the United States attempted to introduce and modify Zen Buddhism for Western audiences and practitioners. Some of these include Philip Kapleau’s The Three Pillars of Zen, Shunryu Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, and Alan Watts’ The Way of Zen. Rubin uses the vocabulary found in many of these texts to relate his own ideas, such as the notion of maintaining a beginner’s mind. An enduring openness to the signals of the universe allows the artist enhanced creative capacity. Ultimately, the work of the artist, even in death, is never done. Their work can endure past their physical life. Later artists can adopt and recycle the old artist’s work. In a sense, the artist undergoes reincarnation through their art, even after their physical body disappears. In Chapter 67, “Ending to Start Anew (Regeneration),” Rubin describes this cycle of rebirth for the artist and their work. Each individual project also undergoes a reincarnation process. When one work is completed, the seeds of another can be nurtured. Likewise, Zen Buddhism maintains the belief in samsarā, the endless cycle of life, death, and rebirth. In sum, Rubin draws from the theories and vocabulary of Zen Buddhist philosophy for rhetorical and argumentative purposes.
To Rubin, the artist and the world constantly engage in negotiation and communication. The world provides the artist with ideas and stimuli; the artist responds with creation. The relationship between the artist and the world never ceases, but individuals can lose their connection to it. Rubin recommends that individuals practice awareness to maintain their connection to this relationship. Important transmissions from the universe manifest as moments of inspiration. In these moments, the artist has a duty to be creative and produce art. Throughout The Creative Act, Rubin assigns an ethical imperative to this relationship. Rubin advocates for the obligation of artists to transmit messages from the universe as self-expression. Although not meant to convey religious connotation, Rubin uses the word “faith” to describe this obligation, a faith that the universe will guide the art in the right directions if the artist persists. The relationship between the artist and the world is symbiotic: both entities must participate to exist. This relationship also exists in collaboration. The key in collaboration is to set aside egos. Working together to create the best art possible is always the goal.
Because the self and the world always change, the artist needs to adjust context of their creativity to express their art in its fullest expression. The language of the scientific method appears sporadically in The Creative Act. When speaking about the relationship between the artist and the world, Rubin uses vocabulary like experimentation, testing, and analysis. For instance, in Chapter 57, “How to Choose,” Rubin advises audience to use blind A/B Testing (a choice between two options) when artists work in the crafting and experimentation phase. Still, Rubin urges readers not to “overintellectualize” their methods, so as not to lose the connection the unconscious mind feels with the world.
At first, the concept of no-self contradicts the simple dichotomy of the self and the world. By the end of The Creative Act, however, Rubin clarifies that the self and world are one in the same because “self-expression isn’t really about you” (391). As another example of paradox, Rubin espouses the idea of self-expression through the concept no-self by becoming attuned and aware of the world. Through creativity, the self and world collapse into each other and manifest as artistic expression. Artists hold a responsibility to share substantiate this relationship in every work of art.
The Creative Act embodies the genre of self-help most when it talks about doubt and anxiety. Doubt and anxiety over artistic ability is natural, says Rubin. However, it’s important that artists never let these fearful emotions stop them from making art. Even the greatest artists doubt themselves; what makes them great is their commitment to their craft through practice and their faith in their own creative potential. These emotions, however real in feeling, are merely illusions. The self is the obstacle to creativity. Paradoxically, the goal of overcoming self-imposed obstacles is to practice awareness and creativity to such a degree that the individual can express the ephemeral version of the individual at any given time. The artist realizes the illusory nature of “I”/ego, and thus liberates the creativity from this constraint. The truest self-expression is the emotional precision of a specific moment in a particular time and place.
Rubin inverts the negativity associated with doubt, anxiety, and self-imposed obstacles by redefining their value. All these seemingly debilitating barriers can actually enhance creativity. Expressing doubt in its truest form may become the art itself. Likewise, artists can practice awareness to know when obstacles are signs to pivot or take a break. Learning from obstacles comes from experimentation, testing, and repetition. When artists realize that their skills need improvement, Rubin recommends that the artists continue to create while practicing. The self-expression at their current, seemingly inferior, level ability will never be captured again. Again, The Creative Act assuages reader’s fears of doubt by telling them to make art that expresses themselves in that exact moment in time. If they don’t, that opportunity to create something unique will forever be lost. Here, Rubin’s tone becomes reassuring and encouraging. His voice fashions an authorial persona that coaches, guides, and brings out the best in his readers.
Rubin also addresses how self-imposed obstacles appear as myths about artistry. The stereotype of the “tortured genius” negatively impacts artists who think they need to suffer to create great work. Instead, artists who buy into this belief stall their progress by obsessing over this fictional narrative. In fact, sometimes artists who are perfectly capable in their craft but otherwise suffering inside “can’t produce creative work over and over again” because “they were only able to break through their own issues one or two times” (75). To refute this myth, Rubin advises readers to find the most sustainable way that they can create. Lastly, seeking out help for personal issues can help suffering artists manage their past traumas to create even greater work than they could imagine.