Last week I was hanging out at the MoMA and noticed something. Surrounding some of the greatest works of art this planet has seen were selected pieces from earlier in the artists’ careers. Pages from Pollack’s sketchbook, Picasso’s early days. And they were underwhelming, early explorations of untried forms that didn’t look like much.
What differentiates the legends from the good-enoughs is not inborn talent.
Each of these aesthetic game-changers, regardless of what era they were breaking out of or forging into, trusted their process enough to follow it into brand new territory.
We all have a choice.
We can judge the seedlings of our creative process as good or bad, assess their potential for success and discard anything that triggers doubt.
Or, we can look at them like clues in a mystery unfolding through us, and keep walking even when the path is dark, trusting that the bridges we are building will hold long enough for us to cross.
The only place any of us ever get to be is right where we are.
Might as well explore the sh*t out of it.
In NYC? The Get Down returns home to Cielo tonight + it's going to be huge heeps of fun.