As I cycle between states of
exhilaration and
crippling self-doubt
while making these DZines,
I wonder if these are the early signs
of some serious condition.

A waveform of variable amplitude.
Sometimes the wave is weaker.
Sometimes it is stronger.

The wavelength can also change.

Many different waves interfere and overlap, and every once in a while, all of them align in the low point.
The downfall point.

What are those forces that pull me up and down?
Can I control them? Can I tame the waves?
Or all I can do is ride them, swing with them as they come and go, like seasons in a year?

When you create something,
you build in your mind
the image of a possibility.

If the idea is captivating, you can't get it out of your head. You think about it in the shower, in the car, in that meeting.
Over time, you become so entangled with it that you split yourself in two:
One you is here, envisioning the idea, working on it.
But there's another you that is already there, projected in a place where the idea is already developed.

The here you looks up
to the projected you
with enthusiasm and motivation.

But as you become more and more attached to your vision, you slowly project yourself into that future.
In your head, you are already THERE.

And when you are already there,
you can only look down to the here you
with frustration and dissapointment.

That's what I discovered about the inner forces of creativity:
The sense of possibility of a new idea lifts me up,
but that gap between what I imagine and what I produce wears me down.
These forces swing me, time and again, at different moments and with different strengths.
Emotional waves that I need to weather.
Our imagination and creativity are evolutionary gifts. The universe has been working for more than 10 billion years to produce such wonder.
But, let them loose, and they turn into our worst enemies.
Can we turn storm into stillness?
Or are these forces out of our control?
Should we just learn to ride the waves that inevitably will shake us?
I came up with the following four strategies to deal with my creative waves.

Set up a work schedule so intense that you don't have time to think
Casey Neistat vlogged daily for 534 days. In the process, he changed YouTube, changed the internet, influenced hundreds of other creators and inspired millions.
Creating a 10 minute video with such level of storytelling and production, EVERY SINGLE DAY, is just crazy.
This recent interview with Jack Conte unveils some of the behind-the-scenes secrets of how he did something so remarkable. But one thing transpires during the whole conversantion:
He's working on a relentless schedule and his workflow does not allow a single second of overthinking.
"I just make and move on",
I heard him saying.
Casey's time was essentially doing time, not thinking time. He kept his inner demons away out of sheer incapacity to pay any attention to them.
Even if we don't stretch it as far as Casey Neistat, this principle works when we set goals for ourselves and try to instill a sense of urgency in what we do.
- Set a concrete goal with a tight deadline.
- Make it visible.
- Remind yourself everyday.
- Make and move on.
But…
while this strategy is effective, it may not be sustainable in the long run.
Not only can it be unhealthy if you take it too far, this strategy might turn your days into a hamster wheel, and give you the feeling that you're in an infinite loop, producing the same thing over and over again.
The loop will keep you busy, teach you and, with a bit of luck, strike gold, but at a certain point you will crave novelty.
You will want to apply your talent and learnings to something new and exciting. Something different.
And we all know what happens when new ideas nest in our heads.
Is there a more sustainable way to keep ourselves focused on doing while giving us space for exploring?

"Ball 7 in the corner pocket."
Say what you will do next,
then do it.
You don't need to set crazy deadlines in order to know what you need to do next. The mere knowledge of your next step compels you to act, and prevents you from falling on a spiral of overthinking.
Focusing on actions instead of goals gives you a more adaptable framework. You can change actions more often that you should change goals.
If you want to exit the hamster wheel and do something different, this strategy allows you to do it, as long as you know what you need to do next.
In order for the trick to work, the next action must be immediate and actionable: "Create a new folder for the project". No need to think. It should be so obvious that you should feel the tension: "why don't I just create the folder instead of writing about creating the folder?". If you feel the stupidity of the method, you are doing it right.
Ernest Hemingway also called his shots:
You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again.
He also left work knowing what to do next.
Calling the shot is a very effective way to stay on track, while working at your desired rhythm. It also has other benefit: it helps me log the process.
By keeping a log, I can see my work grow. When I look back and see how I got to where I am, following a sequence of trivial actions, I'm always encouraged. An epic journey is just a sequence of simple steps, but understanding this is very different than visualizing it. Making work visible is always wise.
But as much as I love calling the shots, the method is not infallible.
When I'm creating something, even if I stay on task, there's some form of outcome vision in my head. Sooner or later, reality will look itself in the mirror of that vision. Sooner or later, the painter needs to take a step back to look at the canvas.
That's the danger point.

If I grow too attached to my vision and fantasize too far on it, reality will fall short. If the feeling is too strong, no next action will save me from my doubts. "This is not going well. I should do something else."
When this happens, I know I'm heading for a harder fight…

“Mr. Duffy lived a short distance from his body.”
—James Joyce, The Dubliners
Notice the voice in your head.
Notice who's speaking.
Just notice.
My projected self has taken a hold on me.
My projected self lives in my head, he's constantly at my desk, demanding my attention.
When I "make and move on", it means I don't have time to notice him.
When I "call the shots", it means I can tell him: "Sorry, you need to wait, I need to finish this first."
But if I fail, it means I've let his voice have a space, too much space, to the point that I don't distinguish his voice from mine.
The first step is realizing this is happening. The second step is realizing this is happening. The last step is realizing this is happening.
You don't need to be a seasoned meditator to have these moments of clarity. Just ask yourself:
- Am I afraid of what others might think?
- Am I angry because I was expecting something else?
- Am I frustrated by my own incompetence?
If it's a strong YES, then your projected self has taken over.
But the question then is: Ok, yes, I realize his voice has taken over, now, what should I do?
Nothing.
Only knowing where the voice is coming from can be enough to disarm it.
Don't try to control it: if you create an expectation that you should be quieting that voice, you have branched a new instance of the some problem: you are projecting yourself to an scenario where you took control of that voice, but the voice is still there, so now there's even another voice, one that tells you that you are unable to control the other voice…
See where this is going?
My name is Legion, for we are many.
If you try to control them, you will multiply your demons. Don't try to hold them, just be aware of them, realize they are the result of your mind's projections, of excessive entanglement with an imaginary vision. Just be conscious of this, let your demons loose, and they will drown.
If they don't, it means you are deep down into the hole of own your mind, and it's time to unleash the heavy weapons.


Be conscious that, someday, you will die.
When the demons stay inside and nothing can bring you back into your here-self, thinking deeply about one's own mortality will work with the effectiveness of a punch in the gut.
Some people find this depressing, dreadful, life-negating.
Wrong.
There's no better bullshit filter than realizing that one day, maybe not long from now, you will be facing your last moments in this world.
Do it. Let it sink in. If there's some anxiety in your heart, let it be. Behind that fog of fear and dread, there's a grounding force: the truth that very few things matter, that we only have this moment, and that life is worth living at full throttle.
Is there anything more life-affirming?
In the face of death, your inner voices fade in the distance; they sound like the memory of a childish trifling that once seemed important.
There's hardly a truth more inscapable than this, no wonder reflecting on one's own death, memento mori, is an ancient practice.
Becoming truly conscious that we will die one day is not easy. It has a cost. It's only because it's hard that it's effective. Use it at your own discretion, but make sure that when you are punched back into the here and now, and you wake up from your apathy, you start moving right away.
You start moving not because you want to get anywhere, but because you like moving. Because you love moving. Because moving is what being alive means to you.
…and that's how I ended up here. Writing these posts is what being alive is to me. Drawing crappy animations is what being alive is to me. Redesigning the DZines. Choosing fonts, colors, margins and backgrounds.
I cannot say I do it for you because I simply cannot help it, but it certainly feels good to have someone on the other side, ready to give me some encouraging words when I most need them.
Thanks for being there!
Feels good to be back.