What “The Creative Act” Taught Me About Rules
In the past few weeks, I've spent a lot of time organizing and testing my newly purchased equipment. Anyone working in film and video understands this as a kind of "rule", not just after buying new tools, but as a ritual before any production, to ensure a smooth, hassle-free filming session.
That also means I've had plenty of time to consume content in the background. Lately, I've been listening to The Creative Act by Rick Rubin. I'm fascinated by the way he frames different concepts as they relate to art and creativity. So far, the most intriguing chapter for me has been the one on Rules.
Rubin defines rules, in the artistic sense (and not the laws of math and science), as guiding principles or creative criteria. He describes them as naturally limiting, as assumptions rather than absolutes, and as forces that direct us toward average behavior.
Average behavior may be desirable in many contexts. But, as Rubin points out, that isn't the case in a creative role or function.
One excerpt from this chapter, in particular, stood out to me, on the limitations imposed on the creator even before the work begins:
"If you want to paint, you're likely to begin by stretching a canvas over a rectangular wooden frame and propping it up on an easel. Based solely on the tools you've selected, you've already exponentially narrowed what's possible before a single drop of paint has made contact with the canvas. We assume equipment and format are part of the art form itself, yet painting can be anything that involves the use of color on a surface for a static or communicative purpose. All other decisions are up to the artist. Similar conventions are woven into most art forms. Embedded in each medium, there are sets of norms that restrain our work before we've even begun."
This perspective resonates with me, especially in the context of recent discussions around new AI video capabilities, and how some peers are resistant to developments that are still guided by creative decision-making. Personally, I believe the work that moves us forward comes from artists willing to challenge tradition and make room for innovation.
Rubin puts it this way:
"The templates of the past can be inspiration in the beginning phases, but it's helpful to think beyond what's been done before. The world isn't waiting for more of the same."
I apply this to my own work as well. Whatever I’ve achieved in the past matters, but it doesn’t define what comes next. Mastery, to me, is about knowing the rules well enough to see past them and make room for something new, while staying aware of the assumptions I bring into my own creative act.