The Genius of the Place

Who knew Einstein had a killer set of pins? Think of genius and he ticks all the boxes - brilliance, untameable genius hair, and an otherworldly childlike sense of fun. Which other great geniuses can you think of? Do you believe in the concept of 'genius' itself? I've talked several times about my belief in the humility of genius. The most talented creative people I've met were also delightful people to work with - they retained a sense that they were lucky to be doing what they love. Looking back at some of the posts on the subject, we've talked about Jane Austen's tiny, apologetic work table in the hall at Chawton, and Ella Fitzgerald's assertion that people loved her work because of the songs not the singer.

Not one, but two writer friends have sent me today's video clip of Elizabeth Gilbert's talk for TED. I'm always ready to eat my own hat - in spite of my reservations about 'Eat Pray Love', this lecture is fantastic, and I hope you enjoy it. Her new book is about the idea of being a genius vs having a genius - she's returning to the classical idea of genius as a helpful spirit that is external to the artist, a guide and helpmate for your creativity. She describes herself as a 'mule' trudging through her manuscript - that's her job. Her 'genius' works through her.

Genius - the notion of an innately brilliant creative person is something that's always interested me. By the time I got to university, as a concept, Postmodernism had blown it out of the water. I wrote two theses - one on Surrealist photography, the other on eighteenth century follies. Luckily researching ideas about the Picturesque and Georgian concepts of 'the genius loci' (the genius of the place) didn't require tangling myself up in fashionable ideas about deconstruction, and it was a refreshing break from modern/contemporary work - I loved the romance and eccentricity of follies, of the sense that places (gardens, buildings), have spirits that can be nurtured and encouraged.

One of the great perks of working as an art consultant was visiting artist's studios. From purpose built gems in Hampstead's Vale of Health to high rise towerblocks in Paris, I loved every single one - artists are past masters at the art of making something beautiful out of nothing. When several of you were kind enough to read and comment on 'All the Lovely Ruined Things' I was thrilled that so many people said 'I want that studio!' I gave Jerome/Maya my dream studio - an amalgam of the best bits of the places I had visited. I have no doubt about places having character just as people do. What do you think? The vogue for Feng Shui briefly swept the west, but in Asia it has been treated as a science for centuries. Every single one of the projects my brother-in-law works on with his interior design practice out there has a Feng Shui master at work on it. From East to West there's a great precedent for respecting the spirit of nature - and it's importance in creativity. So what do you think - is genius an attribute of a person, or a spirit that works through them? Enjoy the clip.

TODAY'S PROMPT: Two things that Gilbert talked about really struck me. Firstly the experience of creative work coming to you suddenly, fully formed, whether it's a fragment of a story, an image or a melody. Has this happened to you? It's magical when it does. The second thing she talked about was the sense of 'I'm going to lose this thing' - the fragility of a creative idea. While you can't control the first, I think you can do a lot about the second. As a writer/parent you learn to 'bombproof' your writing. This morning, I'm trying to write this with Mickey's Clubhouse in the background and a hamster crisis going on upstairs - it should be renamed Houdini the number of times it gets out of its cage. Meanwhile the three year old has just cracked open the 'paint your own tattoos set' his grandparents thoughtfully brought with them yesterday ... Today, why not have a think about what you can do to help your own 'genius' - what's been bugging you about the environment you work in? What can you do to help yourself? Buy a dictaphone, or always carry a pen and paper with you? Or just get a bunch of spring flowers for your desk. Ideas fly away unless you get them down - and as Gilbert said, this is our job (and it is a job just like any other), to catch and craft them into books, painting, music to share with others.