During an interview for our podcast Conversations with Creative Minds, Guy Sanville, actor and artistic director at the Purple Rose Theatre, repeatedly used the I-word. No, he didn’t say idiot, which I mutter frequently in reference to myself. Guy chose the word industrious to describe his work habits and those of people who are successful regardless of their profession.

You just don’t hear the word industrious all that often, unless you’re watching a wildlife show about the nature of beavers. Though there’s nothing bad about it, industrious is not one of the top ten characteristics I’d like someone to use when describing me. Maybe that’s because I associate it with a faint hearted kind of praise, like having a solid attendance record. (Although, Woody Allen did say that 80% of success is just showing up.) Or maybe I simply equate industrious with the machine-like regimen of industry.

And yet, industrious is the word that Guy chose to describe his approach to the craft of acting. Which makes sense because the development of craft, the essential skills and techniques that are fundamental to all endeavors, does take work. A lot of it. But industrious doesn’t happen all willy-nilly. It demands a certain structure, a framework for accomplishment. Creating, whether it’s a character, a play or a new theory of the cosmos is work. But industrious, when applied to work you love, is not at all industrial. It’s rigorous not regimented. It’s structured but never static. It’s practiced repeatedly but is not mind-numbingly repetitious.

Industriousness and creativity are not mutually exclusive. They’re just different sides of the same coin. It’s that dynamic tension thing of apparent opposites coming together to produce work that lives instead of working at making a living.

Industrious people continually refine their craft. They are engaged in such a way that work is something more than working. In our commitment to craft, we catch an occasional glimpse of art; the ephemeral and transcendent feeling of being completely at ease in and one with the universe. It is the pursuit of this that informs and inspires the practice of craft.

As Guy reminded me, acting is about doing. Industrious people get things done without an industrial way of working. Hmm. Industrious is sounding better and better. Maybe I could strike stylish off my preferred characteristics list and replace it with industrious. I’ll always love clothes, but for now I want to get stuff done.

Jan

Guy Sanville on Creating Reality (video)

One of of the best things about interviewing guests on our podcast Conversations with Creative Mind is that my partner Susan Bachman and I come away with fresh insights about the practice and practical application of creativity.

Interviews with Guy Sanville, actor and artistic director at the Purple Rose Theatre (founded by Jeff Daniels) are now available at www.conversationswithcreativeminds.com. Guy has mind-awakening things to say about the craft of acting and the business of constructing an artificial reality that seems, well, real. But one of his statements has a particular resonance with the way Susan and I approach our work and our lives too.

“We don’t always know what we’re doing, but we have our principles and our passions to guide us.” Guy Sanville

I’m completely on board with the concept of not-knowing. In fact, I probably hang out there more than I should. But Guy isn’t talking about not having a clue. Rather, he’s making the point that by having an intention, an idea of what you want to do, you can begin doing without waiting to know everything. It’s the willingness to not-know everything that opens the door to possibilities and possibility-thinking leads to the consideration of unlikely ideas; ideas that an informed or knowing mind would reject.

Susan and I often debate whether we’re not all that smart or if we’re just smart enough because not-knowing doesn’t stop us from getting started. Somehow, it’s in the act of doing that we discover what needs to be done. I suppose that’s what some people would call thinking outside of the box. Guy affirms that the willingness to leave behind the comfy place of knowing is a pre-requisite for the structured practice of craft.

Here’s our interview takeaway. Use not-knowing as a point of origin rather than a barrier to beginning. If you’re willing to start from stupid, really interesting ideas will emerge. The knowledge that follows will create the structure that’s needed to sustain your creative insights.

Jan