Vacuity

That’s a weird word. I’m not sure it’s real. I think it means the state of emptiness...which I am advocating for. I think great ideas and inspiration spring forth from a presence in mental vacuity and we should do our best to create moments of it regularly. Moments of calm, empty repose that allow the creative (and autonomic) mechanisms of our brains to naturally function to deposit new ideas inside our mental in-boxes, when we least expect them (which is why they are so important and valuable).

This is becoming harder and harder to do. With the ability to, at a moments notice, occupy our mind with endless distractions, mobile or otherwise, the idea of and the opportunity for creating empty mental space or just plain boredom is not only antediluvian, its becoming harder and harder to create while the value of it in the first place is disappearing from our collective teachings as well as appreciation and understanding of that value.

In this blog and in my seminars I’ve talked often about the value of creating creative “safe spaces” and how to overcome “blocks”. Part of that process, for me, is getting in touch with my emotions to clear my mind. My blocks are always accompanied by a frenzy of brain activity, a fevered condition that is anything but calm. By crying, or laughing or experiencing an emotion, I’m able to erase that mental noise, clear the buffer, and reset my state to one of emptiness, calm and receptiveness.

Vacuity.

...and the ideas come.

Early in my career, I had only a vague and subconscious attachment to the idea. I had unintentionally allowed for it in my work process without understanding why. When hitting the proverbial “wall” creatively, I knew that I had to take action and my instincts were to create “inaction”… cease the ego-driven compulsion to "conquer" the problem (beat it to submission), and wait for a solution to present itself.

In my initial attempts at vacuity, I jokingly would lie down on the floor of my sound library (back when sound was stored on rolls of analog media…imagine that!?) and attempt to commune with the sound gods. A moment of repose with the express intent of hoping the sounds “talked to me”. I understood the absurdity of this exercise because, as we all know, sounds don't talk yet, at the heart of it, I knew I needed to calm my brain and wait for the angels of creativity to descend on me.

When I did STAR TREK IV, my sound design partner, George Budd, indulged me this eccentricity on a regular basis. I asked him to join me in this ridiculous exercise regularly. We called it "assuming the position". I never considered how he felt about it (which was unfair and wrong of me) but he, too, would lie down next to me in the library “stacks” and commune with the sounds. And surely they would, right? Short of getting up to record something new (an approach I believe in as much as gravity) the sound we were looking for was THERE. It had to be. It’s in one of those rolls. 88,000 sounds in my library and ONE of them must be the RIGHT one. Right?!

Not long after, I got my first office/studio space and I put in a couch. The first purchase…before even sound equipment. I lay on that couch for 25 years, endeavoring to clear my brain, create vacuity, hoping ideas would fill the space. I took a lot of naps on that couch, to be sure, but it was my decompression spot. GREMLINS, ALADDIN, THE FIFTH ELEMENT, STAR TREK IV and THE GREEN MILE sprung forth from that couch. My partner, Steve Flick, loved that couch, too and I would often come back from lunch, bloated in a food coma, only to find him snoring and happily asleep. I never asked if he was creating empty space for himself.

I can’t say this technique works all the time but it has worked enough times to make it worth discussing. I must confess that none of this made sense to me or, for that matter, was even apparent to me till I read a beautiful article in the LA Times this morning by Joshua Curnett. He teaches poetry to high school kids and, in one paragraph, describes explaining the meaning DAFFODILS, a poem by William Wordsworth (his most famous). In Curnett’s words:

“The speaker means that he’s lying on his couch and reflecting on the daffodils he’s seen. This is what people did before phones. They often had moods that were vacant and pensive. Can you imagine? Nothing to do but lie there and think of flowers as a way to relax. Have you ever done that?No? Try it. Talk to me about it tomorrow.”. Joshua Curnett LA TIMES, May 27, 2018

That’s when I remembered my couch, and my empty moments and the value they’ve had. Thank you, Mr. Curnett. Your article was beautiful, inspirational and articulate. I cried for a moment because you were advocating, as I have, for the importance of art, contemplation, discovery as a process and boredom as essential tools in clearing the way for new thoughts to present themselves.

Try it.

Talk to me about it tomorrow.

(here’s the link to Joshua Curnett's article)

http://www.latimes.com/opinion/op-ed/la-oe-curnett-high-school-poetry-20180527-story.html

and here’s DAFFODILS:

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine