Genesis

Pay little attention to the religious overtones of the title of this post. It was chosen purely for its connotations of things beginning. I don't plan on instigating my own religion or indoctrinating and coercing any of you into a cult of my own making. But hey, the night is young and let's just see where this thing goes, shall we?

But before we get down into the nitty gritty of the meat and potatoes of this blog, just a quick heads up as to what to expect from this post in particular. Quite simply, it shall be in two halves. The first shall be a brief introduction as to why exactly I'm writing all this so that you might not feel too much like you're wasting time that could be better spent eating, scratching, or just generally -inging. The second, some general musings on simplicity. No mischievousness or skulduggery there, then. 

To anyone who has read my other blog (the weekly postings of my in progress book), you will know that my writing is often surreal, meandering and slightly non-committal. Whilst that's all very well and good, I've wanted to try writing something that wasn't that for a while. That, and my sister started up a blog (which you should most definitely read) and it has somewhat inspired me to try writing a 'proper' blog for myself. So what this is, then, is an attempt to do some more serious writing. Not to say that I intend on making reading that is drab, boring and unfunny. No no, dear reader. Merely that these posts will (hopefully), actually have a point to them. Also it's called Doodles and brain Burps because, as well as being my musings on life, it may also contain drawings every now and then. No complexity or skullduggery there, then. 

Ok, so I may have been optimistic with my ratios of this post. Let's say that it is less a game of two halves and more a merry jaunt through the park whereby you have a rest after a fifth of the journey and then lumber on tenaciously for the remaining 6/8ths of the journey, before having a spontaneous and much needed maths lesson*.

Right! So, to business. 

About a week ago, I was listening to a song that I have heard many, many times before; Parallel Universe by The Red Hot Chili Peppers (if you don't have Spotify and haven't heard the song before, click here). It's actually up there with my favourite songs thanks to the dirty insanity of the solo - but let's not get into musical analysing now. The point is this: I have heard this song countless times but only a week ago did the simplicity of that song hit me. Granted, as I've said, the solo section is a symphony of noise. But the verse sections. My word. I've been in bands, and believe me, it's a brave move to write a verse section that is purely semi-quavers (the fast notes you're hearing) that only change note 6 times. It's so brilliantly simple. How had nobody written that song before? 

And it was that realisation of simplicity that made me think about the general creative process (See? Told you there'd be a point). A lot of the time, we tend to think that something complex means that it's clever. It's an entirely reasonable assumption to make. But my point is, and I'm positive it's a point that's been  made before, that we often forget about the power of simplicity. Is not the triangle the strongest shape in nature? Is not button mashing the most effective way to win a fighting game? Granted the latter is complexity under the guise of simplicity; like witnessing Einstein prod an electric socket with a fork. There's probably something greater at work there. But my point stands. We shouldn't be afraid of going for something simple. 


There are extremes, as with everything. More so with the visual arts. In this case simplicity in the right context can be read as pomposity or pretentiousness. I know that I, for one, have been to many art fairs and exhibitions and confronted with  a wire hoop suspended from the ceiling, supposedly symbolising morality. Even better was that the week before, I had drawn this:

  

But I digress. I'm getting slightly off topic and that's something I told myself I'd try not to do here. Tangents are a dangerous thing in my hands. 


Don't just apply this lesson to the arts, be it visual, musical or whatever else you might dabble in. Take it and apply it everywhere you can, provided the situation calls for it. Imagine that you are a pasty white person. You burn easily and therefore should apply sun block cream. Obviously not if you're on holiday in Moscow in the dead of their winter, but if you were on a beach in Hawaii and temperatures were hitting the high 30's, you'd need to put cream on everywhere. What I'm trying to get at with this obscure metaphor, is that imagine the sun block is a simple solution (which it is - ignoring the scientific hokery pokery that goes into it and the summertime economic monopoly surrounding it). Apply it whenever you can. Then, if that doesn't work, try something else. An umbrella or something. This is getting slightly convoluted so it seems like a good time to call an end to this before it gets out of hand. 


So I shall leave you with this - if you're constantly looking for the complex solution to something, try living in a Parallel Universe for a while. 

*Don't worry, there is no maths lesson here.