I remember the moment clearly: It is 2002, I’m in art school studying Media Arts & Animation, interning at Crossroads Community Church, and U2 released The Best of 1990-2000 along with a companion DVD featuring some amazing motion graphics. My friends and co-workers were very adamant, “We cannot show Chris this video, I think he’ll lose it.” Eventually, I watched it and they were right. I lost it. I was amazed at what I was seeing and the visuals would begin to shape me into what I would later become.

I was very much into computer graphics, animation and video. I was tireless, ready to absorb everything, eager to learn and push myself towards a standard that matched what I was witnessing in the U2 DVD as well as what my colleagues in art school were producing. It was an exciting time and I was very naive. I believed that other people valued the level of artistry in video and computer graphics. I believed that video and animation could change the world. I believed a lot of things that compelled me to continually create content. But the more I created, the more aware I became of the critics. The content became harder to produce because perfection was overshadowing excellence. Eventually, my naivete died in a glorious explosion of burnout and I stopped pursuing growth and telling stories. It was late 2005, I was unemployed, burnt out and completely unsure of who I was, what I believed, and where my life was headed.

Fast forward to today. It’s late 2011, six years later, and for the most part, I have been able to learn how to create content in the midst of a continuous state of burnout. Over the last few years, I have learned a few important lessons: First, burnout takes a long time to cure; second, once your innocence is lost, it takes a lot of time and energy to regain an intentionally-naive attitude that is necessary to endure in a creative career; and third, random acts of serendipity occur to hammer a metaphorical chisel into the years of accumulated ash upon my creative soul.

Today, I had a meeting at a really cool place. I could feel the excitement of all those years ago. I could feel my inner child screaming to be let out and revel in the visual joy that I was immersed in. I tried not to be too overtly excited, but deep down inside I could feel that battle happening. My naivete was coming out of its coma and ready to get back to work.

What gets you excited? So stoked that you transcend a task list and do what you love to do, regardless of how long it takes or how much you need to accomplish? In a recent Bloomberg Businessweek interview, inventor Dean Kamen said that, “Education is not filling a pail, but lighting a fire.”

Life, much like education, is about lighting a fire. It is also keeping the fire lit and burning bright. Excitement is fire. It spreads, it infects. It causes insomnia, positive anxiety, and gets your heart beating.

Excitement tells you that you’re still alive.

How much of your life feels dead? Is your job dead, lacking enthusiasm? Your pursuit of education? Your faith?

Last night, in a meeting about local and international missions for my church, a guy was talking about capitalizing on the passion and enthusiasm of people who are returning from short-term mission trips in order to generate more interest in the overall congregation. His phrase that he said twice stuck in my mind: “If we were able to let people share their stories, their passion would spread like wildfire on a windy day.”

This leads me to the question: Do you know your story?

We all have a story to tell and each is uniquely interesting. But many of us either don’t believe that our story is worth telling or don’t know how to tell it.

Something happens when you listen to a captivating storyteller. You get quiet, you lean forward, your heart beats and the hairs on your arm stand up.

A woman at the Clark County Mayors’ and Civic Leaders’ Prayer Breakfast this past Thursday shared three stories of her travels throughout the world providing medical care in the name of Jesus. She spoke of healing, transcending religious and gender barriers in order to provide medical care that was necessary for people in need. She spoke with quiet authority and simmering passion, slowly boiling over into a passionate story of God’s amazing work done through her. She was a captivating storyteller. A room of 800 got quiet, leaned forward, and could feel the collective heart beating a little quicker.

The fire is lit. Burning bright and warm.

It spreads.

People will never be the same.

In my blog administration section, I have a section that enables me to write notes about future posts that I want to write. In a list of four items, the fourth was this: “It’s Time To Get Over Yourself.” I’m not entirely sure what I meant by it, but as I sit here thinking about it, there are only two ways this can go:

1. I can write about myself, my feelings, what I want to convey, what is bugging me, what I am pondering, what I want to get at Yolicious tonight, or just about anything related to good old me. Or, I could think about…
2. What the person reading this might be thinking, what they are going through, what they want to convey, what’s bugging them, what they want at Yolicious tonight.

It’s easy to get caught up in our own worlds. It’s easy to forget that our lives our inextricably connected in ways that we will never understand. “The world revolves around me” is much easier to think, say and act upon. But something amazing happens when you make the shift from the world revolving around yourself, to revolving around someone stronger than you. Actually being able to admit that there are other people stronger, better, more attractive and smarter than you is a great first step to being able to get over yourself.

Sadly, I think that I wrote this down because I need to get over myself. I fret that I am not good enough, strong enough, that I make too many mistakes, I fail, and I don’t succeed.

As long as I am focused on what I am not, I am not able to put other people before me.

When I am focused on what I am, I am not able to put other people before me.

As long as I am okay with who I am—good, bad and ugly—I will be able to put other people before myself.

That means that I can hear what they have to say.

That I will be okay if they don’t like what I think.

That I will be over myself.

How are you?

Today has been a great day. I had coffee with a friend whom I greatly admire and respect. Of all the things we talked about, the topic that resonated throughout the day was about reaching production goals and that “great is the enemy of good.” She reminded me of her blog post, Great is the enemy of good and other things I learned from blogging, in which she wrote about the lessons she learned from keeping a blogging production schedule and sticking to it. The gem which really stood out tonight as I reflect upon the lessons of this week: “You have 24 hours to make the deadline.”

Today ended a week filling in at a sign shop while their designer is off on his honeymoon. What did I learn? That you need to daily design AND print AND produce. You can’t wait for inspiration to strike, especially when a customer walks in the door wanting some cut vinyl skull and crossbones for his boat and all you have is a cell phone image. You take a picture of his picture, load it into Illustrator, do the best you can and get the vinyl cut so that the installer can get it on the boat. While that is just one example of meeting production goals, there were over 10 a day, sometimes more, sometimes less. There was never a moment of downtime and when there was, it was prepping for the next round of prints and cuts.

So, what did I learn? Great is the enemy of good, you can’t always wait to be inspired, people want their stuff delivered in a timely manner finished the best that you can do in a given period of time, and at the end of the day, most people are happy. Oh, and that vinyl cutting machines are AWESOME! I discovered the joy of loading vinyl, prepping vector files, and watching the machine cut the vinyl into the exact shapes that I designed on the computer. Pure voodoo awesomeness!

The day ended with reading a letter of recommendation from another dear friend. All I can say is that I am the man that I am because of my friends, family and my wife. Without them, I would truly be a miserable wretch.

Finally, on Sunday, I will be celebrating my seventh anniversary with Kristina. It’s amazing how fast time flies, but I must say, I’m still glad that I am married to her. We have been through rough patches and blissful moments, but they are all worth it because of how her laugh, smile and personality makes life absolutely worth it.

What a week. What will next week bring? We shall see.

I started my day thinking about spoken and unspoken expectations. Specifically, what effect do they have upon my emotions and the pursuit of creativity?

It can be daunting to see the metaphorical bar raised way over one’s head. For some, this pushes them forward, like a challenge. They spend unlimited energy finding solutions. They are fearless and undeterred.

For others, they retreat in despair until they know without any doubt what they are doing and that what they do will allow them to not only grab the bar, but raise it higher for those to come.

I am a swinging pendulum, gravitating between the two extremes. This morning I was ready to retreat in despair. Tonight, I am fearless.

So, what do I do when the bar is too high?

I need to realize that the only way I can know if I don’t measure up is after the project is over. This truth leads to a clear and free creative mind, unafraid and eager to do the very best.

For those of you living under a rock, Steve Jobs died yesterday. He was a man worshipped and adored by many. For Apple fanatics, he was their god, lifted up and praised for the blessings his creativity bestowed upon the world. For everyone else, they unwillingly went along with the disruptive innovations created by Apple, cursing his name under their breath as they realize just how much their lives have changed because of him.

Beyond Apple, the best thing Steve Jobs did was buying Pixar from George Lucas, hiring amazing people to run the company—computer scientists, programmers, animators and artists—and then getting out of the way and letting them do their thing. I thank Steve for Monsters Inc., Ratatouille and WALL-E, they are my favorites.

With the passing of Steve Jobs, I think of other heroes that have come and gone: Walt Disney, Jim Henson, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, Kurt Cobain, Keith Green, Janis Joplin, Michael Jackson, Ghandi, Mohammad, Jesus, Graham Chapman, and a million other names that have been lifted up because of their deeds. We remember these names because of the impact that their actions had upon those living in their time. Countless stories have been told across, keeping their vision alive, even millennia after they have left this world.

People are talking about whether Apple will survive the passing of Jobs, but the truth is that he has left his legacy imprinted upon the world. If our lives have changed immeasurably, imagine what he left within the hallowed halls of Apple headquarters in Cupertino. His story will continue to be told for years and decades to come. His photo is engraved in the collective hall of heroes that is formed within our minds.

Our life is about legacy. We leave one regardless of what we do. For some, their legacy is of love, action and sacrifice, for others it is devoted to disruptive societal innovations, design aesthetic, animated films and puppets. Some people leave a legacy of pain and hatred, others die so that all will live.

While we have lost the physical presence of a hero, we remember him with our lives. That is the ultimate legacy that a human being can leave.

I just finished a huge project last week and hot on the heels of completion was not only a wave of exhaustion, but also a feeling of depression and emptiness. Some old habits crept back in as my guard was down and I found myself wondering if there was such a thing as creative post-partum depression. In my search for an answer, I came across David Lecours’ blog post, Creative Postpartum Depression? You Are Not Alone, which led me to two books by Eric Maisel, PhD: The Van Gogh Blues—The Creative Person’s Path Through Depression and Creative Recovery.

While The Van Gogh Blues deals with depression that is often associated with creativity, Creative Recovery looks at the role of addiction in the lives of creative people. The sad truth, according to Maisel, is that the more creative someone is, the more susceptible to addiction they are. Addiction comes in many forms: drugs, alcohol and sex come to mind. But how about the way we eat, the types of food that we consume, and the reasons that we eat? What about the need for constant approval and to be liked by everyone? Or the countless hours we spend on social networks, surfing the internet, watching television, playing video games or a myriad of other things that remove us from a physical reality into an imaginary virtual world?

Is there a connection between addiction and depression? How do addictions affect our life? Is it possible for creative people to live healthy lives, balanced and stable, or does great art demand madness?

Creator and the Audience: Naming, Forming and Redefining Creation

It takes guts to create great art. It’s impossible to define or even say what great art is, but everyone knows it when it is experienced.

Great art is made by artists that are moody, temperamental, narcissistic, walking along the edge of destruction, and a breath away from death. Great art is also made by happy, joyful, well-balanced people, but it seems to be less celebrated in our society. We cling to the vision of the tortured artist that cuts her ear off for the sake of art. We lift high the iconoclast that rips apart society as he simultaneously injects hope and promise into his veins, unable to understand, comprehend or deal with his creation.

It could also be said that great art is made by the audience. If there were no audience, then art would not be received, shared and elevated. But, this begs the question: Can great art exist without an audience? How does great art adapt to a changing audience over weeks, months, years, decades, centuries and millenniums?

A work of art is created. An audience receives the work of art as what it was intended to be by the creator, transforming it into what it is understood to be. In an instant, a portrait of a woman, is interpreted and redefined by the experience of the audience. A song goes from a simple 3-chord structure into an anthem for a generation. Art shatters culture.

This shallow and surface analysis of art leads me to a simple question: What if the depression and addictions that creative people struggle with is not caused by the actual process of creating, but is the result of finishing the creation and releasing it into the experience of the audience?

Am I able to let things go so that I can move on? In the times when I am not working on anything creative, can I accept the feeling of emptiness and celebrate what was just accomplished?

In a recent interview, a pastor was sharing some struggles with me and ended his interview with a reflection upon what he was learning at the moment. He said, “I can do a lot of things, but what I really need to learn is how to be. Perhaps that is why we are called human beings and not human doings?”

As a creative person, I need to learn how to be. There will be moments where creativity and action are not there, should not be there, and it is in those moments that if I do not know how to be, depression and my addictive tendencies will flare up.

I, like the pastor above, am trying to learn how to be. It is hard. But it is necessary. Until then, I embrace depression, I accept my addictions, and I give myself the grace that I know that I would give to others. Or I’ll descend further into madness. Either way, it will be interesting and it will be the life that I choose to live.

I don’t handle stress well. I eat food like doughnuts, ice cream and pizza in enormous quantities. My coffee becomes clouded with sugar. My breathing becomes shallow and raspy. I stop exercising. I lose my willpower. I forget my reasonings for the choices I make. I panic. I get depressed. I buy stuff I don’t need. I beat myself up.

Not an effective way to handle stress.

Now that I am out of an extended period of stress, I recognize that I must learn to better manage anxiety and stress. The moment by moment bouts of stress are manageable, but what about those times when the stress isn’t going away? When it hangs around my neck like an unwanted albatross? What do I do then?

I need to realize that stress is caused by giving away control of my emotions to others.

I need to recognize that my thoughts can breed destructive actions if I am not mindful.

I need to not forget the things that matter most to me: faith, hope, health, love, stability, art and creativity, and freedom.

Stress will always be there, but it is up to me to learn how to manage it and not let it control my attitude and actions.

How do you handle stress? Is it effective for you?

Every week, I am reminded that my dad is a business professor when my copy of Bloomberg Businessweek arrives in my mailbox. Most of the time I skim through the magazine, hoping that there is something that interests me. However, this week’s issue was different, I read almost the whole issue. Touted as Bloomberg Businessweek‘s First Annual ‘How To’ Guide, articles ranged from how to pay someone and how to concentrate, to how to give away $5 billion and how to buy a suit. A lot of interesting business and economy-related topics that could almost be confused with Wired Magazine‘s “How-To Guides” they publish, but I digress.

My favorite article of the bunch was “How To Interview Someone” by Errol Morris, the director of The Thin Blue Line and The Fog of War. His interview process starts and ends with a very simple, yet profound approach: “Shut up and listen.”

Other pearls: “Be well prepared” and “I never go into an interview with a preconceived set of questions.”

Morris has great insight into better conducting an interview and I highly recommend that you read his article in detail. Need to practice some of these techniques? Go out for a cup of coffee with a friend, ask an off-the-cuff question, shut up and listen. If anything, you’ll hear an interesting story.

Every time I am facing an impending deadline, I suddenly have an amazing ability to focus and get the work done. It ends up looking great and telling the story that needs to be told. But as I go about the process of completion, I realize a deep-seated bitterness about my work process: Why does it always seem that the last push is full of urgency? Did I procrastinate too much? Did I drop the ball somewhere along the way? Was I not disciplined or motivated enough to do what needed to be done?

A lot of questions that could lead to some serious frustration with myself.

Fortunately, as I took a break from my video editing project to clear my head and do the dishes, I realized that I like my working process because the work gets done and my clients are generally happy.

Yes, there are ways that I can improve the flow and production process, but ultimately, what comes naturally only comes through practice and what we practice comes through a consistent learning process of who we are, what we do, what we know, what we want to know and how to make it all go.

Frustration with oneself can be a good thing, but it can also distract you from the truth that you are right where you need to be, learning the lessons that you need to learn, at this very moment.

Comforting thoughts for a busy day.