decreasing possibilities

"the first few brushstrokes to the blank canvas satisfy the requirements of many possible paintings, while the last few fit only that painting - they could go nowhere else.  the development of an imagined piece into an actual piece is a progression of decreasing possibilities, as each step in execution reduces future options by converting one - and only one - possibility into reality."     -- david bayles & ted orland

i've been thinking today - this week, really - about focus, and the above point about decreasing possibilities in an artistic endeavor speaks to me in a couple of ways.

first: i think this accurately captures the sense of loss or grief the artist feels (or at least what i feel) when making work.  there's a constant tugging between the euphoric feeling of sheer CREATION and the poignant sense of loss.  the happy accidents, the joy of seeing your idea executed for the first time, the performers taking ownership of the work all push up against the nagging feeling that something isn't quite sticking, the inevitable gap between what happens in the studio before you and what had happened in your imagination.

secondly: in reworking dances, or pieces, or ideas, i find myself always getting smaller.  a smaller idea, a smaller scope, a smaller cast of characters, a smaller movement vocabulary.  one might also call this focusing.  this too feels better at times (clearer) than others (less inclusive, less relatable).  creating anything, no matter how rough, necessarily decreases the possibilities available in the imagination for the said work - it gives it bounds.  and in editing, i find myself decreasing the possibilities even further, until, as noted above, the bits of the dances seem inevitable, as if "they could go nowhere else."

it's tough business.  it feels great, it feels bleh, it feels frustrating, but no one else can do my work, so i might as well do it, right?  you too.