5th of November, 2010, 17:51. Edinburgh.
The artist and the entrepreneur are not similar. They are the same. They are superficially childish; they reject the mothering of structure and routine, and the comforts and predictability that go with it, and instead choose to feel more fully. Process – from religious ceremony to the due process of law – is a way not to think, a way not to feel, a way to simulate (badly) the natural state of flow.
The 9-5 is therefore both comforting and confining. (As is school, and prison, and the relationship a toddler has to its parents.) All temporal structures are a substitute for the teat. To reject this is to reject the boundaries of risks and rewards, to step out from a self-imposed prison. Kant said that, the ‘Enlightenment is man’s emergence from his self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another. This immaturity is self-imposed when its cause lies not in lack of understanding, but in lack of resolve and courage to use it without guidance from another’.
I am reminded of Baldwin’s letter to his nephew, where he said, ‘The very time I thought I was lost, my dungeon shook and my chains fell off’.
The chains are man’s self-imposed limitations. They are what artists kick off and in doing so take all the risks and therefore receive all the rewards and rejections. If they are smart, they learn to treat both those imposters with equal levels of contempt.
At the same time, then, the un-mothered child risks narcissism, the strange belief that he or she is not subject to the laws of man; premature success lends itself to this form of insanity. The artist, then, deals with humility, self-obsession, tics, neuroses, and risks losing himself like the babies tested on Mount Olympus.
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The gig last night was subject to the worse kind of organisational failure. The venue thought the tour manager was promoting the gig. The tour manager thought the venue was promoting it. Both imposters must be treated the same.
I picked up a bottle of whisky for Peter. I picked up some cigarettes for Steph. We mulled about as the small crowd assembled. We pushed the chairs forward and ordered drinks. Later than scheduled, Peter took the stage and announced that things would be different tonight, that they would be doing a more intimate set. Success lies not in understanding, but finding the resolve and the courage to function without the guidance of another.
Peter and Signe broke the show into four parts. Peter – I haven’t asked him yet – seemed to relax, seemed to be released from the constraints of a larger audience – and spoke more. Introduced more. Engaged like I’ve never seen. The very time I thought I was lost, my dungeon shook and my chains fell off.
The guys exploded onto this tour, leaving Preston and Leeds in wanting, slowed down in Hull and completely phase shifted in Edinburgh, which was, I suppose, meant to be a highlight of the tour. I can’t know how this lot are feeling. They look OK. The jokes are still coming, we are all still scrounging sleep and vitamins at every available moment. The paradox of the artist is this: everything is in their hands; nothing is in their hands. The rejection of routine is a reminder of this. The artist, in turn, reminds the rest of us.
