The older I get, the more time I spend hyperventilating in front of a blank page and biting my nails into oblivion and the more I realize that being creative isn’t always fun. Sometimes it’s never fun (and no, that doesn’t make sense logically, which is exactly why I draw pictures and am not in charge of any important documents or clients). I know that, for some people, singing or painting or dancing is a healthy, poetic act and something that brings absolute and pure joy into their lives – but that’s not how it is for all of us, right? I prefer to look at creativity in the way that Thomas Mann did, when he said that “a writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people”.
A few months ago, I was asked to create something, anything, for a magazine. I was given a theme: “the Creative Process”. At first, the task of creating something about creativity seemed awkward. I thought of how this equation applied to other tasks—asking your eyes to see themselves, or smelling your own nose—and it seemed impossible for me to produce something that made sense. I called my father and told him my predicament. I said that I knew I had the right idea somewhere, that I had a clear description of the creative process in my mind, but that it was impossible to see amongst the mess of other ideas that kept entering the ring. My father responded: “Well, just describe the mess, then.”
It was good advice.
I think when a lot of us get down about being creative, it is because we don’t see our confusions as something unique and interesting about ourselves. We want to explain what we’ve learned or what we know, but its actually our questions and fears that make us most relatable to one another. Being creative, maybe, isn’t always fun because it is a confrontation with what we don’t know. That blank canvas or paper might as well be a mirror, except we have to explain to it what its reflecting. Nightmare Village.
But I keep reminding myself: just describe the mess, describe the mess. And that helps. This post, for example, was only supposed to be a blurb about the above thought-map, the product of my Creative Process project, but then I got to thinking and wondering, and—oops–I made an even bigger knot. So, at least, in the end, I’ve created something.
But, what do I know?…How do you face the blank page?
I love this! I studied art in college and 2 years later I am finally starting to get back into it. It’s the hardest thing though! I feel like I get an idea then think of a reason that idea doesn’t work or think of something else to add to it but then that just spurs a whole mess of other ideas and I can’t focus it in. I’ve never become obsessed with anything in my art, like only drawing people, or only painting in a certain color, or “hey i’m going to do 20 paintings of shoes!” No. so not happening. I really enjoyed the whole paragraph when you said “but its actually our questions and fears that make us most relatable to one another. ” I completely agree, and it’s refreshing and nice to hear that I’m not the only one with some tangled creative webs. Thanks for sharing and good luck with your creative funk.
Creating is easy. Creating something of relevance or of any interest to others is a bit more demanding. Above average intelligence and a good thesaurus are helpful.
Love mind maps!
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“Excuse me, but for this lesson, I don’t quite understand…
…where does this map start?
BUT, then I just realized, I answered my owned question, because I started thinking moments ago.” Thank you so much for the map. A great thought.
Interesting article and nice read.
I gave up writing music a few years ago because being creative became too much for me and I just wasn’t happy with what was coming out. I really like the idea of ‘describing the mess’, even in relation to song writing. I think the thing is to just get down the snippets of melody or lyrics that pop into my head, even if they aren’t fully formed or even any good… because somewhere in there are the rubies and emeralds. I have been feeling recently that I am getting into a more creative head space – a hint of melancholy and some more life experience from which to draw – so maybe it is time to dust off the piano and start playing again.
Our Art Teacher called it the gestalt…a configuration, pattern, or organized field having specific properties that cannot be derived from the summation of its component parts; a unified whole…. connecting the whole. The left brain does a lot of things that may not be connected to what you are going for but just at the right time the right brain that had been watching the whole process sees that one shining piece that fits the whole together and you have the creative process. Actually I don’t think it can be explained. I believe it has to be felt because it connects the heart and mind together (my personal belief). I know that I am not complete unless I am creative in some part of my world. I love the map, I am forever pointing to and circling and arrowing up or down, giving something one star, some things two or more, underlining or using a marker for color. I t works for me…
I take a “wing-it & change it 20 times” approach. Everything creative I have a million ideas, I jump in feet first without floaties & wind up switching part/all several times before I stand back & say “ooh PERFECT”. There is also some walking in a circle that has to happen before completion. I drive my very organized family crazy with my own sort of creative chaos
Wow, I’m truly impressed by your description of the process of creating something. It really hit home. Dare I say it even inspired me by taking away some of my fear? Yeah…I think it did. Thanks for being brave…for being willing to share your uncertainty with the process sometimes. And yes, you’re right, you’ve definitely created something just by describing your personal experience with your project.
This makes me think of Demitri Martin
I love this but can you post a bigger version of the pic…not all of us got sharp sight u knw
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Cool map! Something I’ve realized about creating something is if I have it very specifically in my mind before hand, I can never duplicate perfectly, and it always turns out less than stellar. I find that if I surrender myself to the “creative process,” it turns out better than I could have hoped because I haven’t stifled it with my own parameters. It becomes something unto itself. (“It” may be a drawing, an essay, re-decorating my room, or making a sandwich.)