So I lived with the images of shape and momentum for a decade, and tested the clarity the concept could bring in conversations when it seemed useful. I began to think that a definition of creativity (a definition, not the definition) is our capacity to move between shape and momentum. It’s not that creativity lives in only one of them—both shape and momentum are powerful. What would it mean if we had the ability, took enjoyment in, and sustained our curiosity enough to understand how crucial both shape and momentum are, regardless of our natural proclivity to lean into one of them? And if we believed both are critical, as I do, then part of training for a creative soul is understanding the conditions that shape and momentum demand of us. Then we can think about how to develop skills and behaviors for existing within one or the other. With this concept in mind, we can see the obstacles that are put in place by our training, our institutions, and our own internal systems that make sustaining living solely in either shape or momentum for a while, or moving between them, difficult. Like divergence and convergence, we need both shape and momentum, but not at the same time. We can oscillate with such speed between shape and momentum that we might not need to recognize their independent natures. Still, our understanding of their unique qualities can help us problem solve, or engage in the joy of creation itself.
An excerpt from “Dwelling in Shape and Momentum” in Liz’s book Shape and Momentum: An Insomniac’s Guide to a World in Constant Motion
