That Ol’ Black Magic

Sometimes we get lucky, and a compelling concept drops in our lap from the ether. It’s like the idea knows what it wants to be, and you can hardly keep up with it, knowing where it needs to be shaped next. It’s like magic.

Usually, though, we just have to plow along and chop away at the stone, maybe a rough outline of . . . something. This is why we cultivate discipline. This is why we don’t worry about the day-to-day. In the long run, the self-revealing—and knowing that’s the illusion it is—and the steady hammer can produce a similar figure.