We humans tend to be creatures of habit. We want predictability. We want routine. We want familiarity. Some people say they prefer the undefined, the unexpected and the unanticipated to be the norm in their lives. But that, in and of itself, is no different - it is the norm for them to be a little off balance, that's their routine and familiar habit.

The way we structure our lives is to build a schedule of routine and predicable events. Our careers become the foundation for that schedule because they occupy the same hours five days a week, typically on some variant of the typical "9 to 5" schedule. Then we come home to our family and have dinner and spend some quality time with our children. For those without children, they may still come home for the evening and relax, perhaps also engaging a hobby or interest for a couple hours before going to bed. Then the next morning, it begins once again.

The weekends offer a break from that routine, but can be a kind of routine in and of themselves. Time with family and friends, perhaps a show or a dinner party, perhaps more time on the hobby or avocational activities. Maybe a junket to another place for a day or two before returning home to begin the next work week.

When something new is introduced into the mix, we seek to find a place for it - depending upon how important it is and what form it takes. We reallocate our time or change up our schedules to accommodate its inclusion, again, depending upon its importance. Once done, we again fall into a predictable pattern of behaviour after this new thing is integrated into our lives.

Don't get me wrong, I'm the poster child of an ordered life, with everything in its place. I'm not obsessive or anything like that, I just prefer predictability, even when I'm touring. I want to know where I'm going, where the hotel is, where I'm playing, what the set list is, what's expected, all that stuff associated with being on tour, being on the road.

When I am teaching music, I encourage newer students to look at their schedule and find where they have free time, then allocate it to practicing, minimally a half hour, optimally about an hour. I caution them that one will never 'find' the time because that is a kind of chasing after one's tail. You have to schedule it, like everything else you schedule, so the time is set aside specifically for that activity, three, four or five days a week.

But, one place I do not like predictability is when I am in a creative phase. That's the last thing I allow. So I have to wade through the familiar kinds of riffs and ideas to reach the kinds of things I don't usually do, don't usually employ in that process. Whether music or art, I want to tread on virgin ground, at least to me. It doesn't matter that someone else may have come here before me. I haven't been there, so it's all new to me. And I want to know what I can accomplish that is unique to me when I reach that "new" ground.

How I do that is to alter the way I approach the method and thinking that goes into the creative process. As a musician, I often switch to other instruments (yes, I am a multi-instrumentalist) to shake up my approach. I don't write the same way on piano as I do on guitar. I don't think the same way because it is a different instrument and requires a different approach. I could use "guitar voicings" on the piano, but that would be self defeating. I could use piano voicings on the guitar, but that, too, can become self defeating, unless it produces the results I am looking for.

The truth is that when we get into writing, we tend to fall into patterns of behaviour, a familiar approach, a tried and true method. This is fine, really, and can produce some very great song ideas. The Nashville way of writing (about which I've written before) kind of relies upon a set method, one that has proved to be effective and that gets results. The problem with that system is that it produces results that tend to be rather similar from song to song. If that's what you're going for, then don't change a thing in the way you write.

But for me, because I have a background in Classical, Rock, Blues, Pop, Folk/Finger Style, Swing and Jazz, I have a lot of 'influences' to draw from, a lot of stylistic elements I can bring to the process. I may begin with one approach, but apply elements from another along the way, or try blending to see if that achieves the desired result. It's a process, and for me it is a rather long one in some cases.

Songs may materialize fully realized within a half hour, or take weeks. I have a few songs that I've been working on for a number of years. I keep coming back to them every so often and see if something can be added. They'll be done eventually. I once wrote a song in five minutes and it was nearly finished in that few minutes' time. I tweaked the ending a bit later, but ultimately, the song was done when I stopped playing it. Thank God I had a tape recorder going or I would have lost half of it.

The point is, you can't confine yourself to just writing what you want. You should never do that. And here's why...

I've written about writer's block before. So I won't bore you with retelling that story. But, how I overcame the block, which does bear repeating, is by refusing to limit the style and type of music that came out. If it was something I didn't particularly like stylistically, I still let it run its course, I kept writing the song, if only for the exercise that one must write, period. It doesn't matter what you write, you simply have to write without worrying that it is or is not in the style of music you prefer to play.

So part of altering the state of mind you employ to the writing process is to allow the music to come out, no matter the style, no matter the genre. Try to control it and you will begin to shut down the creative processes until nothing comes out. I know because I did this many years ago and suffered the afore mentioned block. We write because we must. And we must allow what comes out to just come out. Yes, I'm being a bit redundant here, but it's that important.

You can always return at a later date to that song that wasn't your prize style and see if a tweak or two might make it more appealing. Alter your approach, open your heart and mind to the possibilities, not your own sense of right and wrong, and see what happens.

When you allow outside ideas in, when you apply unexpected and unfamiliar ideas, approaches and concepts to your creative process, very interesting things begin to happen. You won't always have the results you were looking for, but you will begin to see other avenues you can employ in the process of creating new works. The "failures" you write will never be failures or wasted efforts if you learn something from the exercise. It's how we grow, how we mature and improve as artists.

I've even picked up instruments I have no idea how to play and managed to create something musical. And that's the deeper point of all this. Experiment by doing things you would never think to try as a means to push the boundaries of the possible. Step into the uncomfortable realms and you will forever change the landscape of your creative process.

In art college, I had a teacher (a working professional in the art world) that forced us to use unconventional methods to produce our art. He literally challenged us to stop thinking the way we have been to that point and to throw out all of what we thought we knew. Only then would we begin to truly explore things that never occured to us, to find that 'hidden' work that could be found by no other means. And it was the best advice I ever got about the creative process, to this very day.

Artists, people who create, can never play it safe, particularly if they want to find something fresh, something new and unique. The creative process demands that we become fearless in our pursuit of the unknown, in the pursuit of our craft. The timid artist starves. And the artist that waits for inspiration starves as well.

The creative process demands we alter our way of thinking, our way of seeing, our way of using the tools of our craft, even using unusual tools, tools that we would have never thought relevant to that process, but which may provide the answer to the question that would not go away. To do anything less robs you of the very thing you seek.

And it deprives the world of brilliant works of art.