Thinking on the Creative Process

This week, we talked about the creative process. When do forms feel tiresome or boring

Kahran: Hi, I'm Karin.

Divya: Hi, I'm Divya. Thinking, thinking.

Kahran: And this is thinking. On thinking. On thinking. And this is the 28th episode of thinking on thinking. This week, we talked about the creative process. We talked about how we create what different forms inspire us. When do forms feel tiresome or boring, and how do we get to a place that we want to do something? It was a meandering conversation where we really touched into lots of these different aspects of the creative process. We really enjoyed it and hope you enjoy it too.

Divya: So, you know, we have talked about, like, maybe doing interviews, potentially from the next season, with, like, you know, people. We think their thinking is interesting. Not that I've gotten bored of your thinking, and I don't think you've gotten bored of my thinking, but it might be interesting to, like, you know, bring other people, and especially because I think that, people who have very different life experiences tend to have very different mental models, and, it would be, like, really interesting. So I was just thinking about that in context of people often say, don't change the format of what you are making. Like, if people have come to expect certain thing out of you, you want to continue to almost, like, with a huge dose of discipline, keep delivering that. Right. and I was just thinking, how do you feel about that? Like, one. How do you feel about the maybe we should interview people idea, and how do you feel about changing the format of what you are doing?

Kahran: No, it's interesting you asked that. actually, it reminds me of what we talked about last episode. Right. Because we were talking about how in fine dining, and you were kind of contending this notion, that there's tastemakers, and those people keep driving to kind of push culture and push the way people are thinking about an experience in a certain direction. Yeah. So, I don't know. I kind of feel like it's a similar thing. Right. Like, if you keep doing the same thing forever, it kind of will stagnate at some point. I don't know. Like, the same cast doesn't keep doing the same Broadway show forever. Right. Like, even these long running shows, like, Phantom of the Opera just closed, and I think it ran for, like, 70 years, maybe.

Divya: Wow.

Kahran: Yeah, it was, like, I think the longest running, maybe 71 years. and, you know, it had so many different casts over that period because, like, people don't want to keep doing.

There's a tug of war between seeking novelty and staying true to your strengths

Divya: The same thing between sort of seeking novelty both for yourself and from the form that you are creating in and seeking the ability to get to perfection. Like, how do you think about the tug of war between both of those things.

Kahran: When you're someone who's, like, good at a lot of things and a lot of things can come easily to you, it's hard to balance what it's coming from that you don't like to do things you're not good at, versus that you're staying in your strengths. Once you know something works, once you know you're good at doing something, you kind of do those things, as I understood it, framing it almost from audience expectations, so that you can be dependable, so that people can count on you, so that people know what to expect from you. It's important that you deliver consistent, understandable outcomes. Right. I have this, aversion to things that feel new, or maybe things I feel like I wouldn't be good at. But I'm not sure if that's just because I don't like doing things I'm not good at, because there's a lot of things I am good at. So I just end up saying, hey, these things I'm not good at, are they really worth the time?

Divya: So, for example, let's say that, you've been writing short stories, okay? and those short stories are about fantasy, right? Like in a particular space. And let's say that, like, you know, you've been writing it for a few weeks, months. You have written like, ten stories. At what point do you, like, sort of continue to leverage this world that you have built, that you understand, that people around you also understand who are reading, that, you know, these characters, you know, what kind of people should exist in this world versus when do you think about, okay, no, you know what? I'll go and write something new now. And especially when you're thinking about, like, you know, areas where there isn't a, prior tradition for how length is dealt with. Like, for example, if you're thinking about books, people will often write like, trilogies or five books or seven books, stuff like that, right? So, like, those kind of, quote unquote, make sense. But, like, when you have short stories, how many are too many? How do you decide that it's time to move on from this thing and still continue to write? Like, I'm not saying that, you know, you move on from writing into making music. That part I can imagine being harder because you're acquiring a new, almost like, physical skill as well, with the whole understanding of the craft. But like, at the sort of second or third level in your craft, how do you switch? Or when do you switch?

Kahran: I don't know if I find it that difficult. M because I write very character centrically. It's not that hard for me to take those characters to different scenes.

Divya: What if you had to change the characters? Move away from these characters?

Kahran: That's also fine.

When do you get bored on writing something

Like, I read this interesting prompt. I don't know. Maybe it was four or five days ago where it just gave you this picture and it asked you to write a short story about the picture. And the picture was, I think there's either birch or aspen trees, but they're trees with white bark that kind of peels. and there was a grove, and one of the trees had a number on it. And so I wrote this story, or I'm writing this story about this girl, named, I don't know. I've never said her name out loud. Bonsoi, I guess. And she lives in this underground community. And what they're doing is they're trying to keep these plants alive. And some of them, they can be just kind of left. But some of the soils have to be grown, to fruiting. And then, like, the soil's refreshed every now and then. And so the way the story is happening is, you know, this community has been, like, opened or discovered or something. And someone is having an interview with the girl with Bonsai, about like, what she did for this kind of like World War z. I don't know if you've ever read that book, but I haven't. The whole way it's structured is it's as an interview, I always just really loved it. But, like, yeah, I don't know. I saw the thing. I kind of found this character. It's like a quasi Sci-Fi y sort of society. I haven't fully fleshed out the societies, I think, because I don't really care that much about societies. I have a writing partner, actually, who really loves kind of world creation. We're writing a set of actually short stories in a world that we've been working on for a couple of years now. And I would say there we first kind of had one city that we were focused on. And I would say after a long time and really thinking about that city and kind of getting to some real kind of intractable things where I think we both really wanted different things, we've now sort of started building other cities in that same world that will have different rules.

Divya: M so maybe the sort of content of what you are writing about is not exactly the thing. Maybe the form is. So, like, let's say you have written ten short stories. How easy would you find it to move to, like a novella? Or, you know, if you haven't ever written poetry, how easy would you find it to move to poetry? Or, ah, like changing something a lot, which, for example, us talking to each other versus doing an interview podcast would be a massive change.

Kahran: Yeah, I guess to my mind, a similar sort of change would be like, a lot of music is like poetry set to music. I don't know. I've thought about trying to write song lyrics and I think I would really find it fun, but it feels very difficult.

Divya: When do you get bored? Like, if you're writing something or if you're creating something, you know, like, I remember there was this one time when we were talking about it and you were like, you tried to write poems for some time, but then after, like, trying to write them every day, started feeling like a burden. what changed?

Kahran: I would say that what happens for me is I think I get frustrated with where I am. Okay, so, for example, like, it may be that I've written something and I read it and I'm just like, why is this where this has ended up? And usually what I'll do is I won't engage with that right away. Right? Like, I'll believe it and I'll come back and look at it and I'll see if I still feel that way. or I'll be in writing something and I'll start to feel like this is going nowhere or something. Something about is feeling frustrating to me. And then usually again, like, I'll put it aside for a while and try and work on something else for a little while and then maybe come back to it. And see, sometimes it means it's like going in the wrong direction or something is not right.

Divya: Does that feel like creative block to you? Like, some people would describe that as, oh, I'm feeling creatively blocked.

Kahran: Well, I feel like when I feel creatively blocked, I feel trouble in creation. And I don't know if it's quite that.

Kahran: it's like, it's almost. Honestly, it's m more like, do I like what I did here?

Divya: hm. Interesting.

Kahran: And sometimes I come back to it and I'm okay with it. Right? Like, I remember there's this four line poem I wrote about a flower, in the monsoon a year or so ago. and I was like, oh, I wish there had been more to it. And then I looked at it later and I was kind of okay with it. So there's a whole thing about abruptness and endings that I think is kind of like a motif that I've realized maybe I like to explore more, but so sometimes it's also that it's like you realize you're writing a technique or you're doing something that you're not necessarily that comfortable with. And so that can also be like, oh, is this the right thing? M like, the other day I wrote something and then I ended it with this, like, bizarre couplet as I looked at it even then and later of where it was like, something about, like, the heath death of the universe, because I knew what I was thinking about. What I was thinking about was how, like, there will be a point when, like, all potential reactions have happened, and, right. And then there won't be anything else. But it's just like, I don't know, I was like, am I really, am I really writing in this way? So it's a weird thought process because it's like, that's not necessarily like a writer's blog. It's like a critique of yourself in the happening.

Divya: So whenever I do any branding exercise with people, I always ask them to sort of give me the thoughts right then and there, and then give me the thoughts two days later. And that's a, very, because oftentimes what you, like in the moment will not be the thing that you will like later, and because you have to live with it later. This is way more true for branding, maybe, than for other things, but, like, just sort of evaluating it again and seeing how does it sit with me now. I found it to be, like, way more helpful, especially for people who don't have a visual vocabulary. like, it reduces the frustration that they might feel, reduces the number of ends, moment changes that they might come up with. but, like, as you were speaking, it just, like, made me think of, oh, it's kind of similar to what I am doing there, but I am sort of telling other people to do it while you are almost like, M you need yourself to take a break and, like, look at it again.

Kahran: Yeah. So I feel like for me, it's more related to that process that can make you stop right where you look at it and you're like, oh, this is stupid. Why did I do this? You know? and so I think for me, I don't, I don't finish that. I stopped myself before that where I'm like, oh, I'm feeling, like, frustrated with this. I'm gonna put it down before I reach this point where I'm like, oh, why am I doing this? You know?

One of the ways I reduce creative frustration is by keeping shorter timelines

So I'm curious, does that ever happen for you, or do you. Because you, like, kind of like you, you just don't have those cycles as much because you have lived in a life of an artist, just longer.

Divya: I think how I have solved for it is by keeping, like, shorter timelines. So I think one of the ways that I have, well, maybe two ways I have reduced creative frustration for myself is one, giving myself the space between practice and performance, and showing most things in the practice column. So, like, if I'm not thinking that I'm performing, it's often easier to do things, because I'm just practicing. So I'm allowed to make mistakes, and I'm allowed to try out things, and I'm allowed to make errors. And then the second thing is just giving myself a very set time limit. This is what you are allowed to do in this much amount of time. so almost your expectations reduce, like, back in 2020. I wrote these posts about creative work on my profile. And, like, I wrote hundred posts. Took me about maybe six months or so. A little over six months. But, like, I wrote these posts, and they were like multi page posts. They were kind of like blogs, but not long form. Right?

Kahran: Yeah, I remember.

Divya: I would give myself 25 minutes to write it, from the idea to the final execution. Like, I would not know what I need to write today, and in 25 minutes, I would be done. And, like, there is only so much that I can obsess about in 25 minutes, right. I just can't let myself have. In a weird way, I can't let myself have high expectations.

Kahran: Sure, I understand that. Right. But, like, let me give you the example that, I feel like I'm struggling with right now. Right? So I mentioned that girl and that story I'm writing about Bonsoi, right. I'm, like, slightly frustrated with it. You know, I've written maybe 400 words. I think the limit is maybe a thousand words, right? So I can't write more than double what I've written already, but I've opened too many stories. I'm like, shoot. Like, how should I, How should I tie up all these, like, things I've written? Because I need to explain why she's in a capsule. I need to, like, figure out how to convey the, like, life cycle of the tree thing and then why she was in trouble. Because you can't actually grow a birch tree underground, even though she had tried. But then she was too young to understand, which is why she was the only person there in that part of it when they opened it. And it's like, jesus Christ, how, am I going to tie all these things up in this many words? And I'm just like, oh, my God, I can't deal with this right now.

Divya: So I think that I would just, like, give myself such a strong constraint that I wouldn't be able to come up with too many things. How should I put it? like, fully open ended. briefs are not my friends.

Kahran: Well, you paint murals and stuff on blank walls. That's an open ended brief.

Divya: I have a lot of constraints that I automatically put on myself. So I don't do a lot of different styles. Like, I don't do realism. I don't do detail work that removes so many categories already. I have, like, you know, this sharp preference for bright colors. I have sharp preference for anime esque aesthetic, and, like, certain kinds of motifs and colors. And I am, in a very weird way, limited by my own artistic ability. Like, I'm not an amazing painter. I'm an okay painter. I can deal with, like, a lot of different mediums. I can get to, like, a six out of ten to seven out of ten in almost any medium, but I don't think that I can get to, like, a nine out of ten in any medium. Like, im not that great of a painter with my hands. Im just not. And so, like, that really automatically gives me a very small box that I need to draw in.

Kahran: I feel like this seems kind of what we were asking each other about, right. Because here it seems like youve drawn a box for you to create in, but you dont feel like that box is constraining you. You dont feel like youre becoming formulaic in saying that you use bright colors and have an anime aesthetic. Like, that doesn't trouble you.

Divya: If I was on my hundredth mural, I wonder if I would feel that, you know what I mean? Like, I've maybe made, like, ten murals in my life. Twelve. Something around that number, right? Like, it's less than 20 for sure. You know, like, if I were to do more, then I would have to think about, does this work? And does that work? And do I actually want to do this in this way, etcetera, etcetera? Like, I wonder if that would start becoming a part of the picture if I do many more of it.

I wonder if boredom is a corollary of creativity

Kahran: I also wonder if there might be a corollary, because I was talking about this with a friend of mine who is a painter, and he was saying that he really felt that way when he started to get recognized that he had kind of an initial style, and that style started to be recognized, right before he went to his MFA program. And he kind of had made a conscious effort during his MFA to try and, like, develop a different sort of style, because he wanted to not feel like he was kind of this guy who did this one kind of work.

Divya: M yeah, I wonder, like, because this artistic rediscovery is an interesting thing, right? Like, people revere somebody who is like Picasso and who can, like, you know, sort of change their styles quite often. Subject matter, like everything. If one can change it a lot, people appreciate it, right? And, and here I'm just using people as, like, you know, I guess a shorthand for the culture appreciates that as an addition to it. But I don't know. Like, I think a part of it is also you become frustrated with yourself or you become bored with yourself. I don't think that frustration actually is as prominent a word for me as boredom would be. Like, oh, this form has taught me whatever I needed to learn from it. So can I move on now? Almost.

Kahran: That's interesting. That made more sense to me than the way you were saying it before, because I would say that I got to a point where initially I wrote poetry for myself, right. And there was years that I wrote poetry that only I saw, and then I started to kind of want more from it. And for me, the more was kind of like I wanted to share it in some ways. So then I started posting some of it, and then I got a chance to read some of it, and now I feel like reading poetry has really been something that I feel like it's a new set of challenges for me because there's a way you're conveying more meaning with it when you're reading it. it doesn't give you the same sort of satisfaction that it once did. So I guess that is boredom. Now I think about it, what else is the definition of boredom? M same activity is less satisfying.

Divya: Yeah. And I think that it's very. Especially for creative work. I think it's slightly self indulgent. Like, regardless of what creative work you do, it's slightly self indulgent. Like, I was recently just, like, you know, a friend of mine and I, we have been trying to collaborate on something, and I think we have finally hit on something. and we were just discussing something about this project, and, like, we talked about for maybe an hour and a half, and then I was like, hey, you know, we have been working for the last over an hour, and she was just like, what? This is what work feels like. This is totally not what work is supposed to feel like. I was like, yeah, this is what work feels like. If you're actually enjoying what you're doing. What? I'm getting away with something, right? Like, I feel like, creative work always has that thread in it. Like, there is this sort of, like, playful self indulgence that's always there. It's like, ah, I'm doing this because I find it fun. And I think after some point, one would get bored of it, right? Like, I look at these artists and painters who have been painting for years in a particular style. I follow them, I like their work, but I just feel like this is like, the hundred thousandth girl that you have painted. How are you, like, you know, not bored of it? Why don't you want to do something else? Like, they look exactly like all of the previous characters that you've painted.

Kahran: Yeah, yeah. I'm reminded of, you know, how jumpa Alohiri started writing in Italian, who's the author of the namesake, right? Yeah, yeah. It's always just kind of stuck with me. I've read some of her interviews where she's like, it just felt. It just reopened her creativity, where she kind of felt like she had fallen into a rut and now she was writing in a new language. I mean, the books are supposed to be amazing. I haven't actually read any of the translations.

Divya: That seems so hard, though.

Kahran: Well, that's just because of your own provocations, right?

Divya: Yeah, maybe because languages feel hard to me.

Kahran: Someone else would say it's so hard that you're, you know, a multidisciplinary artist.

Divya: but that feels much easier.

Do you feel like what you want out of different forms changes

Do you feel like what you want out of different forms changes? Like, you know, what you want out of your writing? Versus, like, let's say we are creating this podcast together and what you want out of that versus, you have done some video work, right? Like, I remember you showing me a documentary that you had made years ago. or like, when you do photography, right? Like, all of these are quite different as mediums. Do you feel like you want something completely different from each one of those, just in terms of what it, artistically fulfills in you?

Kahran: No, I think I feel each scene is particularly well suited to a particular medium, which I think we've talked about in an earlier podcast, how you and I have very different feelings about the creation process. and I much more come from a place where I feel like a work has an intended destination. And, I know you don't really come from that place. so, yeah, I feel like, depending on the work, it kind of has a particular ideal medium. And it was interesting someone, I think my therapist, actually, ah, Gloria said to me a few weeks ago, where could a story be told across multiple mediums? And for some reason, that kind of unlocked that possibility in my head where I was like, oh, yeah, you could tell this in a novella and then also have a play about it. who says no? M so that's an interesting idea. I don't really know the answer about yet. And it also makes me wonder a little bit, as I mastered more mediums, would I start to think of creating things in more mediums? Probably yes, if that's how I feel. Right. Because you can't imagine creating them in mediums you don't understand.

Divya: Yeah, I do agree with, like, there is more medium appropriateness to certain things. Like, the easiest example that I can think of is you can have a lot lower narrative density if you're making a game, because games are inherently interesting. It's a little bit like, you know, you need a very entertaining movie to hold your attention for 3 hours, but you can meet your best friend for, like, the 500th time and, keep talking to them about the same old things again, and you will be happy to talk to them for 3 hours. They don't need much more because you have active participation in it. and something similar translates in games that you could be doing something really, quote unquote boring seeming, but because you are the one who is actively doing it, it's way more interesting. Like, it's inherently more engaging. And similarly, like, how, you know, music you can listen to again, 100,000 times and not get bored of it while, like, the same story, you might actually get bored the third time.

Kahran: Yeah, but, like, don't you feel like it's odd then that people just watch people play, like, platformer games, you know, where you kind of are doing the same thing over and over and, you know, they're not even playing it?

Divya: I think that the same, like, circuits that make people enjoy sports are the same ones that make people.

Kahran: It's what makes them enjoy watching.

Divya: Yeah, I mean, it's very funny, right? Like, if you are somebody who does not understand chess, you can watch the most amazing, like, match, and you'll be like, ah, okay. Yeah, it's just some two guys, like, you know, playing with each other, and they're just moving pieces around. And if you are, like, into chess and you understand it, then even those, like, you know, minimal movements or even their eye, where is their eye moving and what are they thinking? Like, that also becomes exciting. so I think that, why people watch people, other people play video games is probably more related to that, at least, like, that would be. That is my hypothesis of why is it entertaining to watch people play video games? We have done it for years. It's the same thing as gladiator rings, and it's the same thing as, like, watching cricket or football or basketball or like, any of the, other games that exist.

Kahran: I was also thinking about, I wonder how much it helps when games have a good adoption cycle for people to understand the games. Like football, american football, when you watch it on tv, there's all these visual cues they do to help you understand what was going on. Like, they'll visually mark on the screen, like, where the downs are and what line the football has to cross in order for the team to keep the ball. And also because there's so many pauses in american football, there's all these reasonable moments where you can ask someone if you didn't understand m whereas in a lot of games, right. You'd be interrupting their experience to ask them to clarify what just happened or something like that. Like soccer, there's basically no pauses until, you know, the half, unless someone gets injured or something.

Divya: But isn't soccer very easy to understand?

Kahran: I think so. But, like, offsides is, like, one of the only complicated rules. And so many people don't understand offsides.

How much do you think enjoyment of something comes from the technical excellence

Divya: How much do you think, as a viewer, your enjoyment of something comes from the technical excellence and understanding of the thing and how much of it comes from, like, the. What does it mean?

Kahran: Oh, for me, absolutely. I will be detracted if I don't understand what's going on. Right. Like, if I don't know why we got there, then I will not feel as pleased.

Divya: M is that true for all mediums?

Kahran: I think that's true for most things.

Divya: so would you say that, like, even for something like music, you prefer to listen to music that you do understand?

Kahran: No, it's not like that. It's. If I can understand why something is the way it is. Like, for example, I have a friend who introduced me to symphonic rock, which is basically exactly what it sounds like. And there'll be, like, symphonic metal, which is like death metal with symphonies. And I think just thinking about, like, where that, like, genre came from makes it feel a lot more interesting to me than if someone just maybe listened to death metal.

Divya: Interesting.

Kahran: I do feel like different mediums capture different things for me though. Right? I like when I feel something very strongly, or like I'm feeling maybe upset or just something. Right. I'll more often write like a poem about it. But then if there's like a scene I want to capture, that is something that like, you know, to date would be something I would write like a short story or a novella or something about. Right. Versus if I visually saw something, I would almost always take a picture.

Divya: M interesting.

Kahran: Like, if I felt the light was really beautiful, it's rare I would write a poem about it. The poems are almost always about something. Unless the light maybe feel somewhat thing, then I might write a poem about it. But if I just saw it and I was like, oh, this scene is very compelling.

Divya: As you know, I've recently been writing some poetry, and I think what it has helped me with is I feel like I have a part of my brain which is like really articulate, knows how to use language, and there's a part of my brain that feels things. And so I make art using it, and they don't really communicate with each other. I think one of the most biggest panic situations in my mind is when somebody asks me to explain a painting I made or what was I thinking. And, my brain is just like. I don't know what I was thinking. Please don't ask me about that. but, like, writing poetry has been interesting because it's almost like having a feeling that I would have normally painted about and then trying to say it in words.

Kahran: Oh, I see. It's a substitution. You're not trying to fill a different thing with it, at least yet.

Divya: It's a connection, I think.

Kahran: Interesting. Yeah, I guess if I started a new medium, I would connect it to an existing one. Initially, that would make sense, but I wonder if eventually it finds a place.

Divya: I didn't mean it that way. I just feel like two parts of my brain that do not communicate with each other. They are able to communicate. Writing poetry feels like a bridge between the two that I'm able to describe what I feel rather than just try to, like, loosely capture it.

Kahran: No, I understood that. What I was saying, though, is that it sounded like the same motivator for you to create a visual art would be the same motivator for you to create a piece of poetry, at least the way you're thinking about it today.

Kahran: M yeah, that's what I was saying, that I feel like I was slightly surprised that they're slotting in the same place. But then I realized if I was to pick up a new medium, I think I would initially be like that too, though I would think eventually the medium would find its own place, at least for me.

Divya: I think fundamentally create very differently. I m think so because, like, I can't think of anything where I would think this is the only medium. Like, of course each medium will be able to highlight certain aspects of things, but I wouldn't think that this is the only medium that would be valid for this story or this feeling. Like, I would think that I'm limited by my ability to execute and my ability to see the multiple facets of the experience rather than the limitations of the medium.

Kahran: Oh, yeah, I think I would agree with that. Okay, maybe I was using a shorthand, right? I was saying my experience with that medium versus like, M. But it's also where I aspire that to be a little bit, you know, I'm not trying to become type of photographer that I would need to be to capture the type of ideas I have in my poetry, in my photography.

Divya: I maybe don't understand my artistic self enough to have a form affinity, or maybe I am form agnostic. I don't know, actively having made art for more than a decade, that is a weird thing to say that I'm not even sure if I have some form affinity and I haven't found it. I have a very particular kind of affinity for the kind of stuff that I like.

Kahran: Yeah.

Divya: like, whether it is games or it's painting or it's movies or it's music, like, it's. There is a very specific thing, but I don't know if I have a medium where I would want to just make that.

Kahran: That's interesting. Like, I wouldn't really think about capturing my ideas as a painting just because I don't think I have the skills to, like, create a painting. Maybe I could sketch something, but it would take a lot of energy from me to try and capture something in a sketch, you know?

Divya: But you do write prose and poetry and do photography.

Kahran: But I write a certain type of prose. Right. Like, I really write very, very dialogue centric prose generally, which is kind of like poetry.

Divya: It is.

Kahran: I think so.

Divya: explain.

Kahran: Poetry is often a dialogue, right? It's just a two person dialogue. It's the author and the reader.

Divya: Whoa.

Kahran: Otherwise, you're kind of like you're observing a dialogue depending on how it's written. Right. You're a dialogue between two characters. But in this case, it's just like author is talking to the reader about something.

Divya: Oh.

Kahran: You're not often, like, describing something or like, I mean, you can be, but maybe for me, a lot of my poetry isn't that way. Right? It's not like, like an epic poem, like. Like the Ramayana or, you know, Gilgamesh or something, right? Which is like, no, no, no. Giving a scene.

Divya: I hear you.

A lot of poetry is very dialogue centric, right

Even those are like, you know, oral traditions. They are frame stories, and they are like, you know, a storyteller telling a storyteller to a person kind of a thing. Right? Like, even something like Mahabharata is written from a particular person's point of view as a story to another person. no, that makes a lot of sense. I just had never thought of poetry like that.

Kahran: That's so funny. I feel like you said this to me really early on when we started working together, where I was like, oh, I feel like I'm so disconnected in the different kinds of things I like to write. You're like, oh, you know, there's. There's a big connection because a lot of it is very dialogue centric. I can't remember. I think there was a third thing at the time I was trying to write, but I can't quite remember what it was.

Divya: I just don't think that I had made the connection about poetry as a form about it. But as you were saying, even I was thinking about, I really love that poem. Hope is a thing with feathers. And all of these poems that I really like or that I really enjoy, they do tend to be from that tradition of a person sort of speaking something to you. And I guess, like, poetry is short enough that you can imagine yourself inserting a dialogue at the end of it. Like, it doesn't feel that sort of long form, I guess.

Kahran: Yeah.

Divya: today I learned.

Kahran: I don't know, while you were talking just now, I was reminded I did try once to, like, shoot a very feeling centric photography project. It was one of my final projects. I did an independent study as a photographer my last year of college, and it really did not go that well. So I wonder a little bit if I have shied away from it. just because I have this memory of this project that was very. I really kind of tried hard. It was one of the very first real photo projects I tried to do, and it just was kind of a disaster. but I did another one after that that was looking at the modernization of rural Vietnam, after the end of the US embargo. Right. Like a nice photo story, you know, very dry, lots of emotions that are not yours. Yeah. That was great.

Divya: Yeah. Autobiographical work can be scary.

Kahran: Yeah, definitely.

Divya: Yeah.

How do you feel about the interview idea? Um, I think it would be great

So back to the original question I asked. How do you feel about the interview idea?

Kahran: I think it would be great. I think, like you said, we've done a lot of thinking at this point. Right. And it'd be useful and interesting to understand more people's perspectives. I think you and I do have very different experiences. We had different life experiences before this point. And so it's been really interesting to kind of see how can you end up with kind of almost similar mentalities from such different places. But I think understanding more of that. Right. Because I think as we've gone out into the market, we've met more and more people who kind of share some of our values, who share some of these, like, concerns about technology and also ideas about, like, kind of the direction that we can go from technology and also from, like, a cultural point of view. So I think understanding more about what are the stories of the other people who kind of are on this mission with us, would just be really cool. so I'm excited about it. I think it'll be a really cool third season. Fourth season. Third season.

Divya: Fourth season.

Kahran: Fourth season. My goodness. Yeah.

Divya: We are on episode 28 right now. It's.

Kahran: Wow.

Divya: It's been a journey.

Kahran: It's been a journey. More than a year.

Divya: Yeah.

Kahran: Year and a. Half. Yeah.

Divya: awesome.

Kahran: Bye.

Divya: Thanks for listening to this episode of thinking on thinking. Our theme music is by Steve Gooms.

Kahran: If you found this topic to be interesting or have other topics you wish we would explore on a future episode, please reach out to us at, our website, joyous studio.