Shared Vision

Examining the tidal currents of creativity and partnership: Pt 1

Original ink illustration by Ryan Stanley

Very often, we butt heads. We see situations from different angles; we're motivated at different times.

Eventually, though, we give into the trust we have built in ourselves, and in each other. We trust each other to do the "right thing," whatever that might be in a given moment.

It's all about flow.

Current into tide; idea into execution.

When we first met, I was a quiet writer and an avid music fan, attending as many local shows as I could. He was a musician whose band was known and beloved by young folks in his hometown and my own; he maintained a website and blog before it was cool or easy to do so. I mean, actual working knowledge of HTML was involved. I was impressed. He even included some doodles of his own on his website, which was adorable to me. I, on the other hand, wondered if anyone would ever read my writing, or hear me sing. I was doubtful, but persevered in meeting the people that felt like they were supposed to be in my orbit.

Thus, I met him and we fell in love, instantly. That actually happens. It happened to us, and we were both determined not to take it for granted.

Our love blossomed into a creative relationship very early on; we'd lived together less than two years when we collaborated on our first piece of music. I entered the proverbial space of his music respectfully, but I suprised myself by having creative opinions straight away, and I shared them with him. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't afraid to tell him what I thought, and he wasn't afraid to teach me what he knew. Those ingredients comprised the fertile soil into which we planted two decades worth of personal and creative growth.

I think that's a crucial component of any successful relationship: the absence of fear. Whether it's a professional, creative partnership or a romantic one, fear is going to kill the vibe. Lack of trust is going to curb the flow. An imbalanced power dynamic is going to tilt the outcome in favour of one partner's journey. Partnership relies on compromise; it sounds obvious but sometimes it's much more difficult in execution than we'd like to think, isn't it? To bend our behaviours or intentions just enough to make comfortable space for another, but not enough to give up our own sense of autonomy is a nuanced act.

It's easier to believe that one of us is "right." To dig in our heels and hold fast to our own vision is oftentimes necessary for survival, particularly for those of us whose very existence may be more marginalized than our partner's, whose optimal role it might be to serve as an ally. Standing on common ground; having a common creative vision that overrides either partner's personal ambition makes the creative process much more harmonious.

That's not to say that great art doesn't arise from turmoil! We all know that it does, but our focus here is on maintaining a long-term symbiotic partnership that weathers many storms, and bears delicious fruit.

Sometimes I feel like an ageless mass - a formless breeze blowing through the trees. Nothing can phase me. Other times I feel exceedingly human: fragile, uncomfortable, tired, angry, and annoyed. Creative collaboration, whether it's building a homestead or writing an album, can occur under any conditions. The harmonious ones are sweeter, gentler, safer. It's an honour to experience a little bit of both.

An alternate version of this piece was previously published in Volume 3 Issue 2 of The Lunenburg Barnacle.