A Writer’s Reward for Every Lost Word

💔 An Idea I Didn’t Date

ONE OF THE BEST TIMES OF MY LIFE was going to art school and I was lucky enough to study at two of the world's best: Central Saint Martins and the Royal College of Art in London. Applicant numbers are crazy and these schools are notoriously hard to get into because they consistently perform well in university rankings (if you choose to read into those).

But also because of the wide array of trend-setting talent that comes out of them: artists David Hockney and Tracey Emin, filmmaker Steve McQueen and fashion designer Stella McCartney, writer-practitioners Ian Ritchie and Zandra Rhodes are just a few of their outstanding alumni.

Among the curriculum the school's taught, the standout moments were always when alumni came in to give a lecture. The reason these moments shone was because they were pretty much the only times when we were prompted to think deeply about our practice, practice as distinct from output.

As an example, the artist Yann Mathius talked to us about the importance of repetition in his practice. But instead of just lecturing us about it, he ran a workshop where he had students meet him at Brixton Underground Station and then walk all the way to the college six miles away. The next day, he had the students walk the exact same route all over again. I heard from some students that it was a profound experience in terms of getting unstuck and generating new ideas—an exercise in becoming more aware of their awareness.

Most of the art school curriculum was focused on the artworks we were making and the names we were trying to make for ourselves; with very little time spent on the actual practice and process of our craft. But instinctively we know that practice—in the verb sense of the word—is where all the magic and enjoyment lives. That's why I'm always looking for and thinking about clever ways to keep me focused on the reps rather than the muscles.