And no matter how much you stare at that blank sequencer page, the notes just aren’t forthcoming? And you wonder if you’ll ever get that li’l spark of inspiration back..

How do you get your compositional, creative, musical mojo back if it’s gone on hiatus and you’re suffering a little ‘Creative Burnout’?

First: recognise that though you are sadly mojo-less now but that it shall inevitably return again! We’ve all experienced it from time to time, it’s perfectly normal, and there really is light at the end of the tunnel.

Make time to recharge the juices in your creative batteries and then get back in the game. :-)

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So… I was brainstorming ideas for this here topic of creativity and creative processes (of course, Creativity 101 is brainstorming, how else would I start)… and my research led me to this post:

How to survive creative burnout by Scott Berkun

I cannot tell you how this post resonated with me, an utterly positive experience – a relief.

Wake Up Call

I read recently in one of Deane’s comments

“Unless your heart is miserable when you are not making music, unless you feel sick to your stomach when you are not composing the music you hear in your everyday life meanderings, please, I beg you… go do something else.”

Comment in Weekend Provocation Gets Uncomfortable

I cannot tell you how that depressed me.

Because, at that time, I could think of nothing less I’d rather do than sit at the computer and write music.

Yes. Alarm bells, people. This was not a nice place to be in. Should I go do something else? If the thought of composing was turning me into a grumpy wretch, perhaps now was the time to reevaluate certain life choices.

I have been composing for as long as I can remember. Even before all the formal training stuff, I’ve been writing little ditties and improvising on various instruments. It’s just something that I like to do. There’s always a tune evolving in my head. There’s no off switch for that particular radio (bit pschizo I know, but maybe that’s what it takes to be creative, eh?).

Though I don’t get the pangs that Deane clearly feels if I’m not composing, I get really ratty if I’m not allowed to write, for whatever reason, for several days in a row. Totally antsy, mean and not very nice to be around. I’m never happier or more energised than when I’m in the flow and composing in the studio.

It was a gradual feeling that slithered up without me even realising it, but recently I wasn’t getting that kick out of the process. And that’s why we do it isn’t it? Put ourselves through the heartwrenching lows and orgasmic highs to scribe our feelings into music? Because we love it, masochistic types that we are ;-)

So there was no kick. No nothing.

But now I’m back in the game. Wooh yeah! It’s like I’m 22 again and the music’s just flowing.

So what was this weird blip I experienced? Creative burnout. Sounds a bit yuppy psychobabble but it fits the bill…

Toasty

Reading through Scott Berkun’s post, I realised that what I was experienced was completely normal, other people go through it, and, more importantly, it’s not permanent. I wish I’d found the post a month or so ago, and perhaps the recovery process would have been more expedient, and certainly less worrisome.

But as it is, I found a way through it, and if this post helps just one of you lovely SCORECast readers avoid the burnout, or (if it’s inevitable in your line of work, as I suspect it may be in mine) recover from it faster, perhaps it will have a had a greater purpose.

Cos it really did suck big time.

From Scott’s article, here are some of the common signs of burnout:

• You dread getting up in the morning (unless this is not unusual for you)
• You don’t care anymore about something you were passionate about
• You saw the title of this essay and felt a ray of hope
• Inspired motivated creative people annoy you
• Everything seems gray and pointless
• You’re drinking more or eating more, or showing whatever your signs of depression are
• You find it hard to relax
• It seems impossible to do basic work you know you’re capable of

Any of this sound familiar? :-S

I had gotten to the end of a long series of very cool, but exacting, scheduled projects and had returned home with the idea that now I could work on my own ideas, write something just for me – that perhaps that was the problem, and I just needed to spend a little time composing purely for the sake of it.

My muse clearly had other plans though. She’d up and left and headed out the country, it seems. Sick of the never-ending requests for inspiration, she was wrung dry, and not best pleased about it.

So I decided not to fight it.

This has to be Step 1 in the recovery strategy for Creative Burnout – Acceptance.

Realise that the only way around is through it. Be ok with it. And go and do something else.

That’s Step 2 – do something else. Don’t just wallow in self-loathing and disgust cos the tunes aren’t materialising. Do something fun, different, exciting, relaxing. Despite my independent feminist right-on perspectives, I ended up baking cookies, brownies, cakes etc. Yummy, sweet, warming things that maybe weren’t so great for the waistline in the long term, but in the short term it was something fun, very different (food prep is my better-half’s arena), easy but a little creative, with something physical and real to show for it at the end.

Maybe that was Step 3 – do something creative but in a different field.

Then there was all the other practical stuff that would have probably sorted me out eventually had I not done any of the above – I got enough sleep, ate really well (apart from all the cookies), got back into yoga and met up with friends that I didn’t have the chance to previously because of long hours at work and generally being v tired, not exactly life and soul of the party.

So now it’s all good. I’m back on track, and utterly relieved.

Maybe it is an inevitable part of the Film Composer’s life that Creative Burnout looms purely from a result of plumbing the depths of our emotions and processing them with the full extent of our skills, on demand, on a regular basis and to tight schedules.

Having gone through it I know that if ever happens again, rather than mistaking it for a sign that I should quit the business, I will now recognise it for the temporary, fixable event that it is.

It’s just a little reminder to take a step back and recharge the batteries ready for the next epic score. ;-)