"The Creative Act: A Way of Being" by Rick Rubin

When I was at university working towards my masters, I had a professor who was my mentor. His office was in the basement with windows that peered down into the chaos of his space from a courtyard above his head. Books were everywhere, rugs lay on top of faded carpet, lamps sat about unplugged and possibly broken. There may have been an occasional plant, but I can’t quite remember. What I can remember was his chair: yellow, squat, and well-worn from hours of study.

This is the place I imagine The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin finding its voice. The tone of the book is casual yet authoritative, not because of some academic prowess, but because of life experience. Rubin writes from his countless hours in the studio helping musicians find their artistic way but broadens that experience to speak to any artist who might read his words.

I received this volume as a gift Christmas ’24 and decided almost immediately after perusing the table of contents that it would make a great first read of the new year. Little did I know how much this simple exposition would impact me. In the last few months of 2024, I had been experimenting with various approaches to making art but found myself consistently running up against challenges that felt almost like invisible opponents I could not vanquish. This book brought them into full view and reminded me that:

Art is a reverberation of an impermanent life. As human beings, we come and go quickly, and we get to make works that stand as monuments to our time here. Enduring affirmations of existence. Michelangelo’s David, the first cave paintings, a child’s finger-paint landscapes – they all echo the same human cry, like graffiti scrawled in a bathroom stall: I was here. -Rick Rubin

I would prescribe this book to anyone at the start of an artistic journey. Whether it be the commencement of a new project, the return after a long sabbatical, or merely the beginning of a new year (as it was for me), this book is a refreshing reset to one’s perspective in the making of art. Whatever your artistic pursuit may be, Rubin speaks like a comfortable teacher reclined in the disorderly studio and connects wherever you may find yourself. He is finite, but his words are whole and connect deeply.