So, when I was in art school, I developed a shake in my hand, and this was the straightest line I could draw. Now in hindsight, it was actually good for some things, like mixing a can of paint or shaking a Polaroid, but at the time this was really doomsday. This was the destruction of my dream of becoming an artist.
Kur kam qene ne shkollen e artit, zhvillova nje dridhje dore, dhe kjo ishte me e drejta vize qe mund te vizatoja. E pare ne nje tjeter kendveshtrim, kjo per ca gjera nuk ishe fort keq, si ne rastin e perzierjes se nje kutie boje ose shkundja e nje fotografie Polaroid, por dhe nje periudhe e erret e jetes sime. Kjo ishte fundi i enderres sime per tu bere nje artist.
The shake developed out of, really, a single-minded pursuit of pointillism, just years of making tiny, tiny dots. And eventually these dots went from being perfectly round to looking more like tadpoles, because of the shake. So to compensate, I'd hold the pen tighter, and this progressively made the shake worse, so I'd hold the pen tighter still. And this became a vicious cycle that ended up causing so much pain and joint issues, I had trouble holding anything. And after spending all my life wanting to do art, I left art school, and then I left art completely.
Ne te vertete, dridhja u zhvillua si pasoje e ndjekjes se pikezimit, vite te tera te berit e pikave te vogla. Me kohen, keto pika kaluan nga te qenurit persosmerisht te rrumbullakta te duken si emrbion amfibesh, vec per shkak te dridhjes. Si rrjedhoje, une do perpiqesha te kompensoja duke e mbajtur stilolapsin me shtrenguar, gje kjo qe e perkeqesoi dridhjen, dhe une stilolapsin ende me shtrenguar. E gjithe kjo perfundoi ne nje rreth vicioz qe perfundoi ne shkaktim dhimbjesh dhe probleme me nyjet e kockave, dhe probleme ne mbajtjen e gjithckaje. Dhe pasi kisha shpenzuar gjithe jeten me deshiren per te bere art, lashe shkollen e artit dhe artin perfundimisht.
But after a few years, I just couldn't stay away from art, and I decided to go to a neurologist about the shake and discovered I had permanent nerve damage. And he actually took one look at my squiggly line, and said, "Well, why don't you just embrace the shake?"
Por pas disa vitesh, kuptova qe nuk mund te qendroja larg nga arti, dhe vendosa te shkoj te shoh nje neurolog ne lidhje me dridhjen dhe zbulova qe kisha demtim permanent te nervave. Neurologu i hodhi nje sy vijezimeve te mia jo te drejta, dhe tha, " Po mire, perse nuk e perqafon dridhjen?"
So I did. I went home, I grabbed a pencil, and I just started letting my hand shake and shake. I was making all these scribble pictures. And even though it wasn't the kind of art that I was ultimately passionate about, it felt great. And more importantly, once I embraced the shake, I realized I could still make art. I just had to find a different approach to making the art that I wanted.
Keshtu bera. Shkova ne shtepi, mora nje laps, dhe e lashe doren e lire per tu dridhur dhe sperdridhur. Po beja vizatime te shtrembera. Dhe ndonese nuk ishte lloji i artit per te cilin isha i apasionuar, u ndjeva mrekullisht mire. Dhe c'ka ishte me e rendesishme, ne momentin qe e perqafova dridhjen, e kuptova qe ende mund te beja art. Thjesht duhej te gjeja nje qasje tjeter per te bere llojin e artit qe deshiroja.
Now, I still enjoyed the fragmentation of pointillism, seeing these little tiny dots come together to make this unified whole. So I began experimenting with other ways to fragment images where the shake wouldn't affect the work, like dipping my feet in paint and walking on a canvas, or, in a 3D structure consisting of two-by-fours, creating a 2D image by burning it with a blowtorch. I discovered that, if I worked on a larger scale and with bigger materials, my hand really wouldn't hurt, and after having gone from a single approach to art, I ended up having an approach to creativity that completely changed my artistic horizons. This was the first time I'd encountered this idea that embracing a limitation could actually drive creativity.
Tani, e shijoj copezimin e pikezimit, tek shoh keto pika te vogela qe bashkohen per te krijuar kete te tere te bashkuar. Si rrjedhoje, fillova te eksperimentoja me menyra te tjera per te copezuar imazhesh ku dridhja nuk do ta afektonte punen, si pershembull, zhytjen e kembeve ne boje dhe te ecja mbi kanvas, ose, ne nje strukture 3D dy me kater, duke krijuar nje imazh 2D nga djegja me pishtar. Zbulova qe duke punuar ne pune te medha dhe me materiale me te medha, dora nuk do me dhimbte, dhe kalimi nga nje qasje e vetme e artit, perfundova ne te paturit e nje qasjeje tjeter ndaj kreativitetit qe ka ndryshuar plotesisht horizontet e mia artistike. Kjo ishte hera e pare qe une do te zbuloja idene qe perqafimi i nje kufizimi mund te frymezonte kreativitet.
At the time, I was finishing up school, and I was so excited to get a real job and finally afford new art supplies. I had this horrible little set of tools, and I felt like I could do so much more with the supplies I thought an artist was supposed to have. I actually didn't even have a regular pair of scissors. I was using these metal shears until I stole a pair from the office that I worked at.
Ne ate kohe, isha ne perfundim te shkolles, dhe isha shume i lumtur qe tashme do mund te gjeja pune dhe te mund te blija paisje per artin. Kisha ca paisje te vjeteruara, dhe mendova qe mund te beja kaq shume me teper po te kisha materiale te reja qe cdo artist duhej te kish. As nje pale gershere per te qene nuk kisha. Po perdorja keto prereza metali derisa vodha nje pale nga zyra ku punoja.
So I got out of school, I got a job, I got a paycheck, I got myself to the art store, and I just went nuts buying supplies. And then when I got home, I sat down and I set myself to task to really try to create something just completely outside of the box. But I sat there for hours, and nothing came to mind. The same thing the next day, and then the next, quickly slipping into a creative slump. And I was in a dark place for a long time, unable to create. And it didn't make any sense, because I was finally able to support my art, and yet I was creatively blank.
Pra, sapo perfundova shkollen, gjeta pune, mora pagen e pare dhe shkova ne dyqanin e artit, e nuk lashe gje pa blere. Kur u ktheva ne shtepi, u ula dhe i vendosa vetes qellimin e te krijuarit dicka plotesisht jashte te zakonshmes. Por, qendrova ulur aty per ore te tera dhe asgje nuk me erdhi ne mendje. E njejta gje ndodhi diten e neserme dhe ne ate qe e ndoqi, duke rene keshtu nje nje batak kreativ. Rashe ne nje zone te erret per nje kohe te gjate, me paaftesine per te krijuar. Dhe kjo nuk kisha asnje kuptim, pasi me ne fund isha i zoti te mbeshtesja artin tim, dhe serish boshllek kreativ.
But as I searched around in the darkness, I realized I was actually paralyzed by all of the choices that I never had before. And it was then that I thought back to my jittery hands. Embrace the shake. And I realized, if I ever wanted my creativity back, I had to quit trying so hard to think outside of the box and get back into it.
Por, ndersa endesha ne erresire, kuptova se isha i paralizuar nga te gjitha ato zgjedhje qe nuk i kam patur kurre me pare. Dhe ne ate moment iu ktheva dhe nje here duarve te mia qe dridheshin. Te perqafuarit e dhridhjes. Dhe kuptova qe, nese e desha kreativitetin time mbrapsht, duhej te reshtja perpjekjen per te krijuar dicka te vecante dhe thjesht te ulesha dhe krijoja.
I wondered, could you become more creative, then, by looking for limitations? What if I could only create with a dollar's worth of supplies? At this point, I was spending a lot of my evenings in -- well, I guess I still spend a lot of my evenings in Starbucks — but I know you can ask for an extra cup if you want one, so I decided to ask for 50. Surprisingly, they just handed them right over, and then with some pencils I already had, I made this project for only 80 cents. It really became a moment of clarification for me that we need to first be limited in order to become limitless.
Mendova, a mund te beheshe me kreativ duke u fokusuar ne kufizime? Po sikur te krijoja me paisje qe vlenin sa me pak te ishte e mundur? Nga ky moment, po harxhoja mbremjet-- epo, ende vazhdoj te shpenzoj nje pjese te madhe te tyre te Starbucks-- dhe mund te kerkosh nje tjeter gote nese deshiron, kshq vendosa te kerkoj per 50 gota. Cuditerisht, mi dhane te gjitha pernjehere, dhe me disa lapsa qe i kisha me vete, bera kete projekt me nje kosto prej 80 centesh. Kjo u kthye ne nje moment zbardhjeje per mua qe ne menyre per te shmangur kufijte ne duhet fillimisht te vendosim kufij.
I took this approach of thinking inside the box to my canvas, and wondered what if, instead of painting on a canvas, I could only paint on my chest? So I painted 30 images, one layer at a time, one on top of another, with each picture representing an influence in my life. Or what if, instead of painting with a brush, I could only paint with karate chops? (Laughter) So I'd dip my hands in paint, and I just attacked the canvas, and I actually hit so hard that I bruised a joint in my pinkie and it was stuck straight for a couple of weeks.
Ndoqa qasjen e te menduarit brenda kutise se kanvasit tim, dhe mendova, po sikur te mos pikturoja ne kanvas, por te pikturoja ne gjoksin tim? Si rrjedhoje pikturova 30 imazhe, nga nje shtrese secila, njera mbi tjetren, ku cdo fotografi perfaqesonte nje influence ne jeten time. Po sikur, ne vend qe te pikturoja me nje furce, Mund te pikturoja vec me levizje karateje? (E qeshur) Keshtuqe, zhysja duart ne boje, dhe sulmoja telajon, dhe godisja aq fort sa lendova nje nyje te gishtit te vogel dhe ngela pa levizur per disa jave.
(Laughter) (Applause)
(Te qeshura) (Duartrokitje)
Or, what if instead of relying on myself, I had to rely on other people to create the content for the art? So for six days, I lived in front of a webcam. I slept on the floor and I ate takeout, and I asked people to call me and share a story with me about a life-changing moment. Their stories became the art as I wrote them onto the revolving canvas.
Ose, po sikur ne vend qe te mbeshtetesha te vetja, te me duhej te mbeshtetesha tek njerez te tjere ne menyre per te krijuar permbajtjen e artit tim? Pra, per gjashte dite, jetova perpara nje webcam. Fjeta ne cimento dhe hengra ushqim te porositur ne restorante, dhe i kerkova njerezve te me telefononin dhe te ndanin me mua nje event qe i kish ndryshuar jeten. Historite e tyre u kthyen ne art teksa i shkrova ato ne telajon time levizese.
(Applause) Or what if instead of making art to display, I had to destroy it? This seemed like the ultimate limitation, being an artist without art. This destruction idea turned into a yearlong project that I called Goodbye Art, where each and every piece of art had to be destroyed after its creation. In the beginning of Goodbye Art, I focused on forced destruction, like this image of Jimi Hendrix, made with over 7,000 matches. (Laughter) Then I opened it up to creating art that was destroyed naturally. I looked for temporary materials, like spitting out food -- (Laughter) — sidewalk chalk and even frozen wine.
(Duartrokitje) Ose, po sikur ne vend qe te benim art per tu ekspozuar, ta shkaterronim ate? Kjo dukej te ish kufizimi me i madh i mundshem, te qenurit nje artist pa art. Ideja e ketij shkaterrimi u kthye ne nje projekt qe zgjati nje vit te tere te cilin une e quajta Mirupafshim Art, ku cdo pjese art do te shkaterrohej pas krijimit. Ne gjenezen e Mirupafshim Art, une u fokusova ne forcat e shkaterrimit, si imazhi i Jimi Hendrix, i krijuar me me teper se 7,000 shkrepese. (Te qeshura) Me pas ktheva veshtrimi ne krijimin e artit i cili ishte shkaterruar me pare. Fillova te kerkoj per materiale te perkoheshme, si te peshtyrit e ushqimit-- (Te qeshura)-- shkumes anes rrugesh madje dhe vere e ngrire.
The last iteration of destruction was to try to produce something that didn't actually exist in the first place. So I organized candles on a table, I lit them, and then blew them out, then repeated this process over and over with the same set of candles, then assembled the videos into the larger image. So the end image was never visible as a physical whole. It was destroyed before it ever existed.
Perseritja e fundit e shkaterrimit ishte te prodhoja dicka e cila nuk kish ekzistuar kurre. Keshtuqe, organizova disa qirinj mbi tavoline, i ndeza, dhe me pas i fika me nje fryme, e perserita kete proces disa here me te njejtet qirinj, dhe me pas i mblodha videot ne nje imazh te madh. Imazhi perfundimtar nuk ish kurre i dukshem si nje e tere fizike. Ishte shkaterruar perpara se te ekzistonte ndonjehere.
In the course of this Goodbye Art series, I created 23 different pieces with nothing left to physically display. What I thought would be the ultimate limitation actually turned out to be the ultimate liberation, as each time I created, the destruction brought me back to a neutral place where I felt refreshed and ready to start the next project. It did not happen overnight. There were times when my projects failed to get off the ground, or, even worse, after spending tons of time on them the end image was kind of embarrassing. But having committed to the process, I continued on,
Gjate vazhdimit te periudhes Mirupafshim Art, krijova 23 pjese te ndryshme pa lene asgje per te ekspozuar fizikisht. Ate qe mendova se do te jete kufizimi me i madh faktikisht u kthye ne lirine me te madhe, sepse sa here krijoja, shkaterrimi me sillte pas ne nje vend neutral ku une ndjehesha i rifreskuar dhe gati per te nisur projektin e rradhes. Nuk ndodhi brenda nje nate. kishte kohe kur projektet nuk perfunduan mire, ose, akoma me keq, pasi shpenzoja shume kohe me to perfundimi ishte pothuajse i turpshem. Por, duke qene se i isha dedikuar procesit, vazhdova me te,
and something really surprising came out of this. As I destroyed each project, I was learning to let go, let go of outcomes, let go of failures, and let go of imperfections. And in return, I found a process of creating art that's perpetual and unencumbered by results. I found myself in a state of constant creation, thinking only of what's next and coming up with more ideas than ever.
dhe dicka me te vertete e papritur doli prej saj. Teksa shkaterroja cdo projekt, po mesoja te hiqja dore, te hiqja dore nga pritshmerite, te hiqja dore nga deshtimet, dhe nga papesosmerite. Dhe ne kembim, gjeta nje proces per te krijuar art qe nuk varej nga rezultatet. E gjeta veten ne nje gjendje krijimi te vazhdueshem, duke menduar vazhdimisht rreth asaj qe do vinte dhe duke patur me shume ide se kurre me pare.
When I think back to my three years away from art, away from my dream, just going through the motions, instead of trying to find a different way to continue that dream, I just quit, I gave up. And what if I didn't embrace the shake? Because embracing the shake for me wasn't just about art and having art skills. It turned out to be about life, and having life skills. Because ultimately, most of what we do takes place here, inside the box, with limited resources. Learning to be creative within the confines of our limitations is the best hope we have to transform ourselves and, collectively, transform our world.
Tek mendoj per ato tre vjet larg artit, larg enderrave te mia, duke ndjekur thjesht rrjedhen, ne vend qe te gjija nje tjeter menyre per te vazhduar te enderruari, une thjesht hoqa dore. C'do te kish ndodhur sikur te mos e kisha perqafuar dridhjen? Sepse te perqafuarit e dridhjes per mua nuk ish thjesht rreth artit dhe te paturit e aftesive artistike. Doli qe kjo e fundit te ish rreth jetes, dhe te paturit e aftesive jetike. Sepse, ne fund te fundit, pjesa me e madhe e asaj cka ne bejme zhvillohet ketu, brenda nje kutije, me burime te kufizuara. Te mesosh te jesh kreativ brenda kufijve te kufizimeve tona eshte shpresa me e madhe qe kemi per te transformuar veten dhe, ne menyre kolektive, te transformuarit e botes.
Looking at limitations as a source of creativity changed the course of my life. Now, when I run into a barrier or I find myself creatively stumped, I sometimes still struggle, but I continue to show up for the process and try to remind myself of the possibilities, like using hundreds of real, live worms to make an image, using a pushpin to tattoo a banana, or painting a picture with hamburger grease.
Te parit e kufizimeve si nje burim kreativiteti ndryshoi drejtimin e jetes sime. Tani, kur une hasem me nje pengese ose jam ne nje kenet kreativiteti, serish e gjej veten me shpatulla pas muri, por, nuk i largohem procesit dhe i kujtoj vetes mundesite, si perdorimi i qindra krimbave te gjalle per te krijuar nje imazh, te perdorurit e nje gjilpere per ti bere tatuazh nje bananeje, ose te pikturuarit me yndyren e hamburgerit.
(Laughter)
(Te qeshura)
One of my most recent endeavors is to try to translate the habits of creativity that I've learned into something others can replicate.
Nje nga nismat e mia me te fundit eshte te perkthyerit e zakoneve te kreativitetit qe kam mesuar ne dicka qe mund te perseritet.
Limitations may be the most unlikely of places to harness creativity, but perhaps one of the best ways to get ourselves out of ruts, rethink categories and challenge accepted norms. And instead of telling each other to seize the day, maybe we can remind ourselves every day to seize the limitation.
Kufizimet mund te gjenden ne vendet me te pazakonta per te ngacmuar kreativitetin, por ndoshta nje nga menyrat me te mira per ta larguar veten nga rrenjet, eshte te rimendosh kategorite dhe te luftosh normat e vendosura. Dhe ne vend qe ti thoni njeri-tjetrit te jetoni diten ne maksimum, ndoshta mund te kujtojme njeri-tjetrin perdite te kapin kufizimet e tyre.
Thank you.
Faleminderit.
(Applause)
(Duartrokitje)