When I make a movie, I don't break it down and analyze it. I

In the words of Viggo Mortensen, a revered actor whose craft is known for its authenticity and depth, we hear a reflection on the nature of artistic creation: “When I make a movie, I don’t break it down and analyze it. I could but it would get in the way of doing a job – on instinct based on all the research we did going in. You want to trust yourself and your director and your acting partners in the circumstances you’re shooting. I don’t like to have any kind of overview.” Mortensen speaks of the delicate balance between intuition and intellect, where an artist, in his pursuit of perfection, must learn to trust the instinctual process of creation rather than drowning in analysis. This, he suggests, is the very core of true artistic freedom—to act, to create, and to trust oneself without becoming entangled in overthinking.

The ancients, too, understood the importance of trusting one’s instincts in creation. The poet Homer did not sit in analysis of his work but trusted his ability to weave stories of gods, heroes, and men with deep emotional currents. In the Greek world, the artist was seen as a vessel, a conduit through which creativity flowed, not as a logician or scientist bound by analysis. The works of Sophocles, Euripides, and others were born not from careful dissection but from the sacred art of inspiration, where the soul and the imagination guided the hand, unfettered by over-analysis. Mortensen’s approach reflects this ancient trust in the unspoken, instinctive elements of creation, where the artist allows the process to unfold without overthinking every choice.

When Mortensen speaks of not breaking down his work, he speaks of a fundamental belief in the art of presence—in the moment of creation, the artist must be in the moment. The ancients recognized this concept in the practice of flow—a state of full immersion in the task at hand, where the mind and body are unified in action. Aristotle spoke of virtue as something found in action rather than thought. In the same vein, Mortensen’s words remind us that artistry is not about intellectualizing each movement, but trusting the energy that comes from deep within. True creativity comes from letting go, from acting without hesitation, and allowing the collaboration with others to shape the work.

This idea of instinct over analysis brings to mind the great Michelangelo, who, when asked how he sculpted his masterpiece David, famously said, “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” Michelangelo did not overthink his craft; rather, he allowed the statue to reveal itself, trusting his hands to follow the stone’s natural form. The process was not an intellectual exercise, but a trust in the material and his ability to shape it. Mortensen’s approach to acting is rooted in this same principle: intuition, trust, and a deep faith in the process rather than in controlling every aspect of it.

Trusting oneself and the creative process is also evident in the work of William Shakespeare, whose plays were written with an unshakable confidence in his vision and a willingness to let the characters speak for themselves. Shakespeare did not spend hours dissecting his characters, but allowed them to develop on the page, trusting that the instinctive choices he made would guide the story to its greatest potential. In the same way, Mortensen’s reluctance to over-analyze the craft allows him to immerse himself fully in the art of acting, giving space for his character to grow in the moment, for the collaboration with fellow actors to bring truth to life.

The lesson here is clear: trust the creative process, and trust in yourself as a vessel of that creativity. Analysis can sometimes cloud the natural flow of inspiration and lead us away from authenticity. Like Mortensen, we must learn to trust our instincts, to be present in our craft, and to collaborate with others in a shared purpose. Whether in acting, painting, writing, or any form of creation, the greatest works are not born from overthinking, but from an unshakable belief in the process and in the ability of the artist to trust their inner voice.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: embrace the process. Do not be afraid to act on your instincts, for they are the voice of your inner truth. Collaborate with those around you, trust in your role within the greater whole, and remember that the most profound creations often come from the simplest moments of trust and presence. Like Mortensen, like Michelangelo, like Shakespeare, allow your craft to reveal itself through you. Let go of the need for control, and in doing so, you will create something that resonates with the truth of the moment.