Revisiting our past work
Revisiting and letting go, renewing, reshaping, rebuilding, relaunching...
(Chère lectrice, lecteur en Français, cette lettre n’est pas en Français, mais une partie des oeuvres ou du travail présenté sont disponibles en Français et notamment, le film IMIQ, remasterisé avec de la musique, dispose de sous-titres en Français.)
This letter is very special to me, as it marks the rerelease of my short film IMIQ, in its remastered version, with music from my lovely partner, Olivier Esposito, but he also graces us with a few words on his music process and on music scoring. Thank you!
In one’s life, moving forward without ever revisiting the past is much like driving with blinkers on, and perhaps, writing, making art without ever looking back at our previous work is akin to it. I believe that revisiting our past work is about knowing our work, knowing where we have been, the mistakes we’ve made, the redirections we have endeavoured, understanding, or at the very least acknowledging, the successes and failures along the way, delving into the knowledge, the voice, the style, the dreams, the imagination, the vision we already had all along; to be able to step into new work with clarity and foresight, or to revisit, reinvent or relaunch older work.
We all have a certain relationship with our own art and it’s not always easy to revisit what we have worked on in the past. While I don’t particularly have a strong ego bias around the shape of my past work, and don’t tend to judge or cringe at my voice, my appearance or its execution, I tend to dislike witnessing when my values have shifted, or when I was in such dissonance with what I believed, and can be reluctant in that way. For example, a lot of my travel blog or past social media content holds that charge for me. I also have difficulty finding the time to delve into past art, but interestingly, a whole chunk of my year has been dedicated to that, and it seems to be a good time to discuss the concept of revisiting one’s work.
As we find ourselves as a collective in the last period of retrograde of Pluto in Capricorn in our lifetimes, a lot of us may be revisiting now and for the next three months, consciously or not, a 15-year cycle. Retrogrades are times to revisit, to reflect, to reassess and to reevaluate, so whit not do it with our art as well.
“IMIQ”, 2024 Remaster
Letting go… to improve and relaunch
In the past couple of years, I have often forgotten about IMIQ, my first short film, letting it live its own life on Youtube.
First, written and made as homework at the beginning of my Masters in Screenwriting in 2020, for a sole exercice purpose, I was then excited to see that I could get it in shape to make it public, exploring intuitive filmmaking along the way. My goal then was to reach 1,000 views, which happened in a few months, and I was pleased to receive a Special Mention at the One Reeler Short Film Festival in 2020. Beyond that, I had no other ambition for the film, and often forgot, that this short film, along with unpublished work, was at the origin of my fiction work.
When the idea came for my partner to compose music for the short film, I was quite removed from IMIQ, 3+ years having passed, and it was a great opportunity to revisit it. Written quite quickly and intuitively in 3 drafts, filmed over the course of two days, I never got completely immersed in the story, and never really understood what hid under the layers and mechanics of the story and its character. I didn’t have a complete grasp of storytelling then, let alone rewriting and editing, and the raw nature of the film is the best I could do, or let come through me at the time. In many ways, I was a channel for this story, and left it as it came, without questioning intentions, motives and meaning, beyond what was there. This was for the audience to know and imagine, leaving in its wake, story weaknesses, but also a crude magic and mystery that I thoroughly enjoy.
Revisiting this work, talking about it for the music composition, thinking about what I had put behind the story felt artificial, a little bit like when we study in literature the intentions of an author, when they themselves didn’t necessarily think everything through. Still, trying to find words to explain some bits and pieces, guiding Olivier towards the sounds called by the film, was an interesting exercice, to notice that there was indeed intention, meaning and substance in it, even if most of it was done intuitively.
Olivier was open, exploratory and playful, and I could trust him, to make a music score that would fit the film, highlight it and emphasise its emotions and drama. Throughout the process, I ended up rewatching the film several times, without music, at different stages and of course at the end. I’m delighted and grateful with the music and the remaster of the film he made.
You can watch the remaster below:
Throughout this process, I understood that there was a tricky balance to find in fully letting go of a piece, releasing it to the audience to make the meaning and enjoyment they wish out of it, whilst needed perhaps to revisit it, to improve it (in this case to add music), and ultimately to relaunch and promote it once more.
How do you let go of a piece of work, but also retain its integrity? How do you let it go once more and promote it again, with a deeper understanding and perhaps truth to what the idea wanted to create? How do you let go and hold on to it at the same time?
What I take away today, from rewatching IMIQ several times, as well as allowing its music to come in, and releasing it once more to the world, is to remember the power of intuition, in its rawness and beauty that can be transmitted across into a work of art, but also to not doubt it throughout the creative process, not only in the writing, but also at every stage of the work.
It was also good reminder of where I come from creatively, in terms of characters, themes and style.
I could also see the limitations of the work and this writing, how I can improve in my current work in the future, in a call for more intention, craft and author’s voice, to shape the channel and intuitive creativity.
As always, art for me is found at the bridge of intuition and structure, of revolution and tradition, of craft and inspiration, and IMIQ is a work that almost solely relied upon the intuitive side of art, as my next work, L’Envol would too.
A work of art doesn’t have to be done once it’s released. With the meaning the audience make out of it, it continues its journey, and there is still space to improve it, to reshape it, to collaborate with other artists, to nourish it, to relaunch it perhaps. The rules are yours, and they are here to be renewed or broken.
Olivier's take on music scoring for IMIQ and letting go of one’s art
I have alway had difficulties with letting go of a piece of art, in music or in writing. For a performance form, I would repeat a movement so many times that my body would know it by heart, and I would come to execute it without thinking. For a released form, a song, a text, an instrumental, I always feel it can be perfected, that it's never finished, fixed, frozen in a form, that it can go on and evolve. For this reason, most of my work stayed on my hard drives for many years. Until a few months ago. Walking the artist's path is learning to release, let live, and accept that your work will have its own journey while you go on learning your craft, going through shifts of creation, visions, changes in your values and the way you see yourself and/in the world. It’s also about finding out that while released, a piece of art isn't fixed, and that you can always come back to it and take it in a better, or simply a different understanding.
I found two ways to get around what was blocking me in releasing music. The first is quite a trick, and I didn't understand the mechanism until very recently. I would develop an intuitive way of playing and expressing myself, keeping my music always live and on the moment, unwritten, unrecorded, impossible to play twice. I would stop learning pieces by heart and repeating them, I would stop writing and perfecting, I would learn to open the flow of improvisation and let the music be free. It's liberating and taught me to accept imperfection. All notes are worthy of being played, no judgement should come in the way. That's how I recorded the Centaurs suite for example :
The second was to work on collaborations, like for IMIQ. Composing the music for this short film was a real treat, but quite a challenge. I was still discovering and learning how to use music composing and production software, along with all the virtual instruments. So there was no mystery that it would be imperfect and that I wouldn't be able to transcribe totally what I had in mind in actual music.
This project also came after a long creativity desert. It would be my first music for image. But I dove in. With the support of Lucie and Lina (the character in the movie), I followed the rhythm of the story and words, the twirls of the wind and emotions. It took time, trials and errors, until I found the pace and could let the music flow. I had to let the natural music of the movie infuse. I wrote more music than the length of the movie, came up with too many ideas and instruments, too complex orchestrations for the bare and rough aspect of the story, until I could stripe down many parts to find the bone of the music that would support the picture, the piano that would stick with Lina all the way.
I also loved the process because I wasn't the one with the last word. The director was. So if she said it wasn't good, I would get rid of a piece, even if I loved it. If she said it was good, I wouldn't judge my music further. I came to a point when I really needed to release the music. It grew in me, and for days I would hear strings, cellos and violins, in waves and swirls, in my head, even at night. It reminded me that when you decide to give space to your art, your art is definitely always ready to take it, and even more. And when the deadline hits, you let go and release, both relieved and proud. Happy. It's not perfect, it's the best you could do on this moment, with the tools you had. And for this, it deserves your gratitude. I am grateful for Imiq and what it taught me.
You can listen to the music score on Soundcloud.
L’Envol, my intuitive audiobook
Expanding without fully letting go
I haven’t had the chance to do everything I wanted with L’Envol just yet. L’Envol is my first book, an intuitive audiobook that I self-published in 2023. Since then, I have had the intention to make a printed version and a translated version out of it, but I’ve never really gotten around to it, taking first steps, waiting around and not knowing the way forward past what has already been done. I haven’t fully let go of it, because I have more ambition for it, and I haven’t put the time and energy to fully get it there.
In the meantime, the book is finding its way to listeners, on Spotify and Audible for example, which makes me so happy, and slowly, with every little piece I let go of, every little decision I make for it, every little action, whatever it might be, it is expanding and finding readers, in USA, Canada, France and the UK. Receiving the first official reviews, and seeing the minutes of the audiobook listened to was a call for me to re-listen to my audiobook L’Envol.
I have listened to L’Envol a couple of times since it has been published. This time around, I delved into it for the purpose of this newsletter and it’s been rewarding and reassuring to listen to it at the same time as other readers, to infuse myself in the wisdom that was there, to learn lessons from my past self, to simply enjoy it and to let it weave itself into my new work.
Sometimes, being an audience to one’s work, is pure enjoyment and subconscious learning, absorbing, without having to dissect and analyse it.
Halfway through listening to it, I’m enjoying hearing the words, the poetry, the wisdom of it, and I hope that through this revisiting I will make a decision into what’s next for it, or at least to decide to pause for now, if that’s what’s needed.
Can you fully let go of a piece of work, if it hasn’t found its ultimate form? Can you build the structures to promote a piece of work, without fully letting it go?
I’m not sure of it, but perhaps, while I still hold on to this work internally, to find the perfect way to hold it in the future, it’s still growing, expanding, building roots and finding its readers. And perhaps, right now, that is enough.
For me, listening to L’Envol, is always a reminder of the beauty and poetry of the intuition, in its imperfection and perfection. It is a strong intuitive piece of art, which needs strong structures, that I will have to keep on building.
Your art can be shared, appreciated and enjoyed at a smaller scale, while you are still looking to do something more for it, of it, whether it is remastering it, finding a new format for it, sending it to publishers, or whatever comes up for it.
From coaching to shamanism
Letting go… to reinvent
Coming back from my shamanic initiation and training last year, I knew I wasn’t in alignement anymore with the way I had done coaching before. I was ready to let it go, all the while knowing that a lot of what I had been teaching or talking about was still true, but needed to hold more grounding and find other forms and expressions, to come back out into the world.
I closed everything, opened my shamanic practice and let all my coaching content rest for a bit. I knew I would revisit it and explore it, to see what could be salvaged, what could be done with it and how I could merge coaching with the work I was doing with shamanism. It is still, to this day, an ongoing process.
A few months ago, I started rewatching all the courses and masterclasses I had done around spiritual coaching, life purpose coaching and art coaching. There was good content, deep wisdom and beautiful intuitive moments, even though I was a newbie then, and often quite unsure of myself. If I would do things differently now, the heart and core of it was already there and I was happy to see I could share these videos or excerpts on Youtube. If you’re subscribed to this newsletter, you will receive in a few weeks a Playlist with free Masterclasses and videos about liberating your art and your voice.
I had to fully let go of my coaching business, so it could reinvent itself and become a more integrated part of my work and art, and slowly, find its own way through, for everything to weave itself together.
Letting go, even if it’s perhaps counterintuitive, or frightening, is often the way to reinvention, to opening new portals and opportunities.
Perhaps, revisiting one’s work, after letting it go, can be a great way to reinvent oneself or to open ourselves to new ways of creating. It is also paramount to letting ourselves be supported by our own work, art and wisdom. Our past selves are often very wise, if we learn to really listen. And why, couldn’t we also enjoy and receive the work and art we do for ourselves?
My travel blog, Voyages et Vagabondages
Closing a door, while leaving the work out in the open
Voyages et Vagabondages was a big part of my life and work for over 10 years, and while a lot of my values don’t align with it anymore, it has been quite a feat to fully close this door and let it go, structurally, with a lot of technical threads to close, but also in terms of accepting that a lot of the writing will remain out in the world, even if it’s not aligned with my values anymore.
I was recently invited by the universe, as it periodically happens, to revisit an article about Antarctica, and align it with my values, as well to slowly close new technical threads, like email, social media, newsletter, etc. While it was really interesting and important to me to align the article to my ecological values, I’m very conscious that it is not a perfect solution, and that it would take too much work to do it for all articles, and that some content is on websites and platforms that don’t belong to me.
It is about learning to make peace with who we were, with past work, with the fact that we didn’t know better, that we changed, that we did our best, as human, artist, writer, entrepreneur etc, and doing our best to be in congruence for present and future work.
How do we make peace with past work we don’t agree with anymore, that we find bad, naive or wrong? I don’t have an answer for that, but to slowly accept oneself in our fullness, and not hold on to the past with too much of a tight grip.
In that, to me, it’s about revisiting our work to make peace, to close doors fully, to release, to let the work be.
Editing my novel, The Antarctic Bridge
Letting go of the rawness of a draft, to find the juice in the edit
Editing one’s work is akin to revisiting past work, and past versions of ourselves, at a much faster speed. I’m not fully comfortable with it, always conflicted about letting go of the rawness and magic of an intuitive draft, for a more complete and crafted version. However, I trust that by revisiting past work this year, I have trained myself to be more at peace with past work and reinvention, and that’s the best I can do today.
I’m sure the process of editing a novel will find its way into another letter at some point, but today, I get more and more in touch with the beauty of editing, revisiting, redrafting, reshaping, reinventing, reimagining and I believe, much like introspection, it is a skill we can learn, we can embrace, and perhaps even enjoy.
Are you revisiting past work? What do you learn from it? What is it bringing to your new work? What doors are you closing, what are you letting go of, what space do you open for new work to come in? I’d love to read what you are up to, your reflections and discover your past and new art if you have links to share in the comments.
This letter is an invitation, for you to revisit, perhaps even enjoy your past work, to learn from it, to share it, to reinvent it, to relaunch and remarket it. Let me know how it goes!
After a few weeks/months thinking and revisiting past work, while I keep on closing threads and opening doors, while there is much editing left on my novel, I feel refreshed and ready, to dive into new work, or at least into new versions of my work.
Our next letter will bring us back to the present and future…
Thank you for reading, watching and listening. I can’t wait to share old and past work with you and discover yours!