May

19

Hunting Rabbits (Shh…)

Promotion / Telling Stories Together

I’m currently working on a story game called Ribbon Drive. It’s taken my heart by storm, and I’m really excited about its upcoming release. Ribbon Drive is a game where you tell a story about a road trip, and all the meaning and contemplation that pours out of it. It’s a game about letting go on the open road. The game uses mix CDs as a driving force to shape play.

One of the most successful parts of play, I’ve found, is the opening. We shuffle the mix CDs. We draw one at random, put it in the machine, and press play. We listen to to the first song in silence. Afterwards, we pause the CD and interpret how that first song lends to a road trip premise. We use it as a foundation point for our story. Why has this stage been successful? Well, all we’re asking is that you listen to a song (which had an equal opportunity of being your song, and might well be) and think about it. Participation seems to require very little.

But here’s what I’ve noticed: being both present and silent is very hard for some people, myself included. There’ve been games of Ribbon Drive where I’ve put down the lyrics to the song while it played; people who felt most comfortable tracking the words would do so. In games where I didn’t offer this thing to do, where your options were to either close your eyes or look around the room, the vibe I got was significantly different. It was a bit anxious, in that people seemed a little less comfortable in their own skin. There was reservation about sharing their opinions afterwards.

Being both present and silent is hard. Experiment: try to meet and hold someone’s gaze for fifteen seconds, without either of you saying anything. You can repeat this experiment as many times a day as you like. See how many people break this gaze. See how often you break this gaze. Does it feel comfortable and natural? My answers are, pretty invariably: almost everyone; almost every time someone else doesn’t; no.

Silence, as a form of communication, is underexplored, because it is difficult and often misread. I’m not talking about shutting up, nor am I talking about the silent treatment(ie, using silence to communicate how you are unengaged), but rather silence as a tool for active, engaged participation. Before I get farther into why this might be difficult for us, let’s look at how silence could be used as a tool.

Silence Can Demonstrate Agreement. Silence can demonstrate the absence of objections, the support of the speaker. It can demonstrate your belief that their argument is without necessary additions or revisions. Danger: this silence can also be a sign that a communicator lacks confidence that they and their concerns will be met fairly.

Silence Can Demonstrate Engaged Listening. Silence can demonstrate that one is focused on listening and appreciating. If the speaker has paused or stopped, and the listener is still silent, this could be seen as a signal that the listener is interested in hearing more. Danger: this silence could also be seen as non-participatory listening, and might be used when the listener is incapable of meaningful engagement.

Silence Can Demonstrate Ongoing Consideration. Silence can demonstrate that one is taking time to mull over the idea and consider its applications before challenging it or moving on. Silence could signify that one is interested in this idea to the extent that they would prefer to stay with it, rather than keep advancing the conversation. Danger: this silence could also mean that the ideas aren’t worth engaging, or that the silent party is unsure how to engage a response.

Silence Can Demonstrate Your Priorities. Silence can carry the very powerful message that you care more about hearing another’s ideas than sharing your own. This is a form of permission-granting similar to Silence Can Demonstrate Agreement, but coupled with a statement of preference. Danger: this silence can also demonstrate that you feel your priorities are invalid, or that you won’t be given due spotlight (and so are resigned to another’s communicative priorities).

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May

05

Trust, criticism and traipsing

Telling Stories Together

As far as I can tell, there are two types of creative criticism. The first is preference. To look at a situation and say, “I would like this more if  X.” The second is approval. To look at a situation and say, “I think this is good, because of Y.”

As far as I can tell, one is harmful to the artistic process. That one is approval, and the reason lies in the negative space it creates. Approval suggests the existence of disapproval. Even worse than that, approval suggests the legitimacy of seeking external validation for your contributions. To unpack both slightly…

Approval suggests the existence of disapproval. It says, “This is good, because of Y.” It also implies, “If you didn’t do Y, it might not have been good.” This can cause creative paralysis: if you do Y again, it will be good again. If you try something new, it runs the risk of not being good.  It creates safety zones based on what we’ve already seen, and in doing so undermines the safety zone of the unknown. And the unknown is what we’re seeking, right?

Approval suggests the legitimacy of seeking external validation for your contributions. If you give someone approval, you suggest that approval is a useful thing. You also suggest that they didn’t begin with approval. You also suggest that the approval of their ideas is in your control. What do these three things work in tandem to create? A hierarchy.

But, don’t people really like approval? Yes. And if approval didn’t exist as a filter for what is good and what isn’t, wouldn’t our world be saturated by useless shit? Yes. So, doesn’t it stand to reason that approval should be part of the artistic process? No. Approval stunts creativity, creates hierarchies and embellishes fears. It creates a dependency which is not helpful to the artistic process.

Approval creates a dichotomy. Your contributions to our creative endeavour now have the potential to be good or bad. Those are your choices, and they are static. Preference is a language of improvement, of bridging the gap, of movement. It suggests that there is no black or white, just gray. It suggests that you are on the right track, and that there is room to grow, and that the expectation is on you to grow. It puts just as much pressure on you as approval does, but it gives you an avenue for achieving expectation (“how about adding a bit of X?” is constructive; “now do something else to earn my love” is alienating and scary).

Oh! Check this out: Approval builds safety zones around what has already happened, and undermines safety zones around what comes next. Preference builds safety zones around what comes next. It also suggests that, since no approval process is happening, you have intrinsic approval. It eliminates the concept of disapproval. There is only what you have done, what others hope to see next, and what you do next.

Now, some of you are going to notice that approval and preference are just different ways of framing the same thing, and some of you are going to notice that preference has pitfalls as well. And the wisest of you are going to notice that the type of judgment you’re expressing matters less than your words and your attitude. Whatever. None of these are particularly interesting avenues of exploration to me, so perhaps we can just skip them.

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May

01

Setting new priorities

Housekeeping / Telling Stories Together

Now is a good time to start writing somewhere new. I want a place to explore a few things which have recently come to dominate a lot of my mental real estate. These things share a lot of common ground: they are all rooted in making the most of experience, they are all tied into shared narrative, they are all about living more intentionally, and they are all underused arts in our society.

The first is shared story creation. Predominantly, this takes the form of story games. Story games are, to me, about a structured exploration of experiences we’ve never had the opportunity for. I’m going to post again soon sharing some more ideas about the roots and the purposes of story games. This notion of shared story creation also takes other forms though. I’m interested in exploring Theatre of the Oppressed, Guerrilla Theatre, and other forms of participationist and activist theatre. Also, things like how we can use storytelling to re-interpret and re-imagine our everyday lives.

The next is still searching for a definitive tag, but I’m interested in rewilding and urban foraging and stepping out of the binding structures that come with civilization. Basically, how do I live in a city (where I want to be) and yet determine the events of my own life (as opposed to being driven by imposed needs, like money and job security, etc). This is tied into urban foraging, scavenging, gardening, guerrilla gardening, activism, working less, squatting and resourcefulness. It’s also tied into how alternate structures alter our understanding of society, and the narrative we collectively and individually form about our existence and our role in the world.

The third is intentional, narrative-grounded communication. I want to learn from my friends who practice/study Nonviolent Communication, I want to continue to explore Appreciative Inquiry facilitation, and I want to look at other methods and approaches to communication which prioritize sharing experience and finding common ground. I am interested in exploring consensus decision-making and other models of representation. I want to explore how different methods of communication can inform our daily activities.

The final thing that I want to explore in this blog is poetry (performance/slam poetry, mostly) and spoken word. Because I like it a lot.

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