Random Manifesto # 2: Dare to be a piece of crap

[NOTE: this manifesto is part of my ever-evolving list of random things I stand for.]

I believe that life is too short to perfect things.

Lots of people say this but actually believe that you should get the right training before attempting to do it yourself. Training is great – but there are so many things that I will never learn if I wait around until I can do it right. So when in doubt, I’m in favor of just doing it.

Take piano. Yes, it would be easier and better to learn if I found a good piano teacher. But it’s cheaper and easier to buy a book of gospel piano chords and dig out the stupid moldy keyboard from the basement and tinker with it while I’m waiting for water to boil.

The point is: it doesn’t matter how you learn, as long as you learn. The point is: why are you learning? So you can DO something with it, right?

I mean, take cooking. You could say, “I won’t cook until I’ve spent a year training with a master chef or with my mythical indigenous grandmother.” Or you could check some cookbooks out from the library and start cooking. I believe it’s better to just start cooking.

Ten years ago when I was first learning about physical theater I came across a lot of people who felt strongly that you needed the right training. An MFA was okay but what you really wanted was to have spent time abroad, preferably learning from a master. And there was a pecking order: oh, you spent a week training with The Royal Shakespeare Company? That’s cool. I just spent six months as Jerzy Grotowski’s personal assistant before he died. Really? Because I spent three months learning bunraku puppetry from monastic ninjas. That kind of thing.

Americans especially love to believe in this idealized master-student relationship, like in kung fu movies. Nobody I met in Europe or Mexico idealized training with Piezn Kozla or Gardzienice or Diego Piñon this way. They knew you’d learn a lot, they knew it was hard and crazy and intense. But it was mainly Americans who seemed to think that mystical certainty would be passed down to you if you spent enough time with the right art star superbeing.

It took me a long time to realize that these people were full of shit. That they were more interested in playing status games than making art or taking a leap or growing as a human being.

I mean, it certainly helps to have a teacher. I’m not saying that if you have a chance to learn from a wise teacher you should pass it up – by all means, sign up, seek it out, travel to the desert to sit at the feet of the master if that’s what your heart is crying out for.

But what bothers me is the fetishizing of teachers and the waiting around for the perfect circumstances for pure, unsullied learning. Here’s the thing: you can spend a year training with an amazing teacher and still be a crappy artist. No matter how, where, with whom you’ve trained, you still have to do the work yourself. What matters is WHAT you learn, and what you DO with it.

Anyway...

At times like this I look to Neil Young for inspiration.

Neil Young has a beautiful voice and he takes risks and his voice wavers, and I love him. He plays with Crazy Horse who is not the most proficient band in the world, but I love their raw clunky power. I love all of his songs even though some of them are duds. If he didn’t take risks and make some duds, then we wouldn’t have some of the most delicate, heartbreaking songs in the world like “Harvest Moon” and “After the Gold Rush."

In fact, one of my favorite albums is Sleeps with Angels and I love it because every other song is beautiful (like "My Heart"), and every other song goes on too long or is too monotone or is just plain crappy. Like, “Piece of Crap." He puts it all out there. He doesn’t polish it or fix it up – and some songs would be better if they’d been edited, but some would have lost their crazy shambolic glory.

So, that’s my manifesto. Especially applicable to recovering perfectionists like myself. Don’t wait until it’s perfect. Don’t wait until you’re ready. Don’t let people talk you out of what fascinates you. Just do it and see what happens. Life is too short to wait for mastery.

Dare to be a piece of crap.