I can’t say if
creativity is bequeathed at birth or somehow manifests itself over the course
of a person’s life. At four years old I could talk somebody’s ear off about
fairies and princesses, supposedly making up elaborate stories as I went along and apparently
never shut up. In middle school I was aptly nicknamed “The Boom box” because I
sang whatever popped into my head, writing poetry as though they were song
lyrics. Ten years later I’d be cooking in my apartment with off the cuff
recipes, discovering that a bagel sandwich with peanut butter, Nutella, and
bacon is actually pretty decent.
It might have been
an antithesis for my lack of athleticism, but I’ve always had a competitive
streak: I grew up in an incredibly sports-oriented family, and feel like a
little kid whenever I get to watch my favorite teams. I
also know several who are pretty damn good on the field and with an instrument,
so that’s not to say that you have to be one or the other. Yet, it’s
interesting how the right-brainers are met with skepticism, doubt, and even
discouragement: they’re deemed idealistic at best, and unrealistic at worst.
Creatives tend to
feel deeply and take notice of everything, almost to a fault. They know it’s
partly because of who they are, and partly because it’s what they’re supposed
to do: if you don’t pay attention and capture the details, the moments that
matter most, then you won’t have anything to be inspired by. Inspiration can be
a matter of waiting, but it’s also a matter of discovering.
For some, the
threads of expression become a way to survive, especially when they can’t quite
grasp what’s going on around them. As a teenager I wrote myself raw, where my
dreams, thoughts, and feelings came out more clearly on paper than in actual conversation.
I was in that confusing in between stage of not-quite being a kid, but
definitely not an adult. Artistry,
whether in the form of writing or music, was the comfort and support I craved
but couldn’t get (at least not in a way that I could understand at a young
age). I was told that I had a God given talent, but sharing it seemed to result
in pushing people away, or frustration because of what I was going through. I
developed a sense of perfectionism, wanting to protect what I viewed as sacred,
not to be blotted by the opinions of those who could only see from a distance.
“So…what are you
going to do with that?”
It’s a question
that most high school and college graduates are faced with, and a valid one.
That being said, it’s often loaded with open-endedness and doesn’t really help
in planning a future. It’s more thought provoking to ask, what are willing to
sacrifice? What are you willing to give? And most importantly, how many times
are you willing to pour your heart out and bare your soul, running the risk of
getting sucker punched with a “You’re not good enough” at the end?
Not everyone wants
to make a career (let alone a life), out of that, and it’s completely
understandable. It’s a challenge, finding the balance of giving an audience
what they want to see/hear, and saying what they want to say. There’s no shame
in not wanting to stop loving what you do because you might demanded to produce
more than authentically create. The words are in my bones, but I’m not in a
place where I’m ready to devote each and every day to being a full-time writer.
I’m not ready for the isolation and quiet fury that comes with the territory,
and I’m certainly not in a place financially to do it. I’m young and I want to
establish myself first, which is why I went into marketing and content writing.
It’s still cutthroat and competitive, but it gives me opportunities to be part
of a team and form relationships, which I get most of my energy from.
I have a story to
tell, and I will continue to do so regardless of the professional path I take. It
takes courage to bleed vulnerability, knowing that some won’t understand where
I’m coming from, and might even see it as a personal attack against them. I
would never say anything to purposefully hurt anyone, but I can’t promise that
it’s not going to be a tough pill to swallow.
I hear the
skeptics, and I respect their opinions. But if you really stop and think about
it, creativity is what keeps this crazy, ever-changing world going. None of us
would stay sane if it wasn’t for art and entertainment, which is why I shake my
head when people gripe about the latest book or movie/television phenomenon.
Why is it so wrong to take a break from reality every once in a while, as long
as you know how to separate fact from fiction? Yes, there are things that are
completely BS, but it’s not the job of the creator to facilitate discussion
about right and wrong.
For me it’s not
about entertainment as much as it is about connecting with people; I’m much
better at writing than I am at talking, so nine times out of ten I’ll give them
an essay or something to read first before I try to articulate whatever it is
that I’m mulling over. If they get weird about it, I’d like to think it’s
because they see something in themselves that’s hard to face, or they just don’t
get it. And that’s OK.
It comes down to
doing what makes you come alive, and what makes you feel authentic. It doesn’t
just involve pursuing happiness, but pursuing what makes you whole. Stop
overthinking and trying to figure it all out, but go out and experience life.
Ask questions. Allow yourself to get close to God and others.
Occasionally I hear talk about schools motioning to remove art and music programs from their curriculum, and the prospect makes me sad. If this has to happen due to lack of funds or teachers, I hope that they can still
incorporate it into learning somehow. Teach kids what it’s like to listen to
the radio, music and movies that previous generations grew up with. Encourage
them to play, be messy, and find joy while doing it. The world is certainly
scary, unkind, and not the safest place to be in; but that doesn’t mean it isn’t
beautiful either.
Never lose that
sense of child-like wonder, regardless if time or experience makes you age. Explore. Write. Paint. Build. Be curious. Play. Stitch.
Re-purpose. Finish. Savor. Breathe. Learn. Love. Live.
