Often it’s the deadline, to be really honest. Also, research is my favorite part. I could just research forever. But then I actually need to produce. Maybe that’s why the offering part is so beautiful, because each offering/performance is different because it’s a different time, it’s a different space, and I’m a different person. Each day you’re a different person, and because the people you’re doing this with are also different, the work changes. Maybe you’ve found something else that inspired you, so you add it and let the work grow. It grows infinitely, alongside you. With video, it’s set, so it’s harder to add to it even if sometimes you’re kind of like, “Oh my god, I would love to add this.” With embodied practice it’s easier. It grows with me. That’s something I love, especially because my research never ends. It’s ever evolving.
Originally asked
The Creative Independent, to working artists, its interview series
A repeated process question in The Creative Independent, asked across visual art, music, writing, performance, and mixed media.
You answer as yourself. Nobody on FLAPSS answers as anybody else.
Elle Nash, The Creative Independent interview source ↗
Others on this question
View all 69 →I think it’s similar to writing a poem, in a way. It’s almost like, when there’s nothing left to remove from the formula, it’s done. Or honestly just when I get tired of working on it, that’s real.
Songwriting-wise, it’s very easy to tell. Sometimes I’ll write a full song with a chord progression that I like, but it won’t feel like the final thing I have to say about a topic. Like, these aren’t the right words. I haven’t gotten to the [core] of what I want to say—I know it’s there, but I haven’t reached it. I’ll usually take that chord progression and write something else with it. And I’ll just keep writing songs until I get to the bottom, just digging layer after layer after layer, and eventually I’ll get to the truest form of that song, and the truth behind what I was trying to say. When I’ll get there, I don’t know, but I’ll always know when I haven’t.
For me a story is done when I can read it and not cringe. When I’m revising a story, I focus on what’s not working. I usually set something aside for a little bit, and if I come back to it and feel that it’s complete, I trust that sense. You kind of know.
More from Marya Hornbacher
View profile →I think most of the ways we get stuck are self-imposed, but I also think most of our problems are in how we respond to the world or our situations. So I can’t say it’s false. I can’t say it’s not a thing. I think what it is is a broad term for the experience of being creatively stalled, or not being able to align your vision with your practice. The points where I’ve found myself stuck have been points where I could imagine what I wanted to write, and did not have the skill, or did not have the tools, or did not have the bandwidth, or did not have the space, or the money, or the time. That writer’s block. I will also say, as an addendum to that, I think a lot of what people call writer’s block right now is such a profound level of distraction that it isn’t actually writer’s block, it’s a block of [having too much] online and screen time.
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