I recently read a quote by Tim Burton in a book by Hugh Macleod called Ignore Everybody - and 39 others keys to creativity. .
Burton said something to the effect of If you have the creative bug, it's never going to go away so you better get use to it and do something about it.
And if you've never read any creative or social truisms by Macleod, I suggest you check out his blog gapingvoid.com or buy one of his books.
Because anyone with a creative inclination is in the same boat. If you've EVER had the tiniest desire to create something, ANYTHING - be it a doodle, a crafty object, novel, painting, or an inventive leftover meal - you soon realize there's something addictive about the need to express yourself.
What's more, that feeling NEVER GOES AWAY no matter how much you ignore it or try and tell yourself that life would be easier if it just didn't matter.
Because the truth is, it does.
And even when you manage to leave it behind for a few days, weeks, months or even years, (like I did for sixteen years while I was in a very difficult marriage) it still finds its way back. Like a recurring zit. Or eczema. Or a recurring dream. Or winter in the 'Peg.
So for the last few days, (okay more like weeks), I've been what I call 'gearing up' for the big push where I get to put all my other obligations aside emotionally and devote my energy solely to my writing.
My golden child. The chalice of truth. My raison d'etre.
So much for balance. And yet, without it, I feel the scales tip towards a life of mediocrity and the stagnation that comes with adhering to the status quo.
But am I to assume that life will suddenly be on hold for me? At least long enough to get that one Jack Kerouac acid-induced spurt where I will spew out the entire contents of one novel in a single sitting? Or maybe I can do it on coke like King. (Except King could do it with or without drugs or alcohol, I'll give him that).
For me? I figure all I need is a little peace and quiet. A break from the guilt of parenting kids I really don't need to parent anymore but use as a crutch to excuse my lack of resolve. (Discipline I have. Habit, I do not).
Or if I just had a break from the emotional drain that comes with teaching (when really I've gotten pretty good at using all of my spare time during the day to hammer most of the work I need to do while I'm in the building).
But I don't want YOU to know that.
Or if I just had a little vacation first - say in BALI - then I could write the damn thing no problem because what I really am is burned out from years of responsibilities.
'Cuz I'm the only one with SO MANY of those.
(And what's more I don't want you to know that a couple of days at home watching the travel channel while doodling and drinking wine works just as well).
ahem
Then again, I might be feeling the fluctuations of motivation and self-pity because I'm hormonal. That's legitimate, but not insurmountable. And it's certainly not because I'm lacking any one thing on Maslow's hierarchy of basic needs (that being the only legitimate excuse to a suffocating creative output).
Nosirree.
It's high time I admit it. Creating comes with doing. And I'm not doing enough of it.
Sometimes there's a bit of foreplay. A precursor to the act. Legitimate planning if you will. Buying paints. Setting up a work station. Thinking about an idea born of inspiration until it becomes clear enough to work with... but none of the aforementioned activities takes very long.
Inspiration comes in an instant.
Certainly not weeks. Or even days.
So what's left?
Taking a good, hard, honest, no-holds-barred look at what I want - if I really want it badly enough that is - maybe every ounce of procrastination is really just a testament to my unconscious desire not to work at it?
Maybe just maybe it overrides my need to produce creatively.
Something. Anything.
But I know that's not true.
The question is, what am I willing to do about it...
