Where This Meets That
The compliment was in my apparent ability to mask it.
My mind is always multisected between countless projects. Yes, there is work. Yes, there is family. But the “creative juices” never stop flowing; they can only be dammed. And that only holds so long.
My wife is a much more pragmatic person than I. She admits difficulty in understanding the creative drive, that instinct that defines inspiration not as a choice but as a mandate to act upon.
I recently posted some of the paintings of child prodigy Akiane Kramarik. While browsing her website, I found a quote from her that sums it up quite nicely:
“I do not paint for praise or acknowledgment. I do not paint for money or vanity. I do not paint for influence or inspiration.
“I paint only for one reason… no special reason, at all ~ I can’t help it, I can’t stop it. It’s as simple as that.”
For me personally, between ideas for blogs, books, stories, songs, drawings, poems, etc., I feel like a boy running around a field full of butterflies to catch but with a net that is woefully too small.
It’s a constant frothing of newness and electrical charge that sparks forth from Creation, and it is undeniable. It’s a vision or an utterance that just ensnares my drive and becomes fully a part of me in communion.
There is a part of my mind that must be just a jumble of verse, where fragments of phrases have at some point come from nowhere and logged themselves as mental notes. Imagine one of those money-grab booths you’ve seen on old game shows, in which a contestant is trying to grab dollar bills that are blowing all around her. It’s like that, but instead of money flying around, it’s Post-it notes scribbled with loose lines of prose.
OK, that’s one part of my mind. There’s another part where the same thing is going on but only with melodies and musical phrases.
Every so often, one of those random verses intersects with one of those random melodies, and through that intercourse, a song just happens to be born. In some ways, I’m just there to deliver it.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to take the leap and dive headlong into unbridled creativity. Where, I wonder, would I land? Or would I?
I can certainly imagine how such dilemmas could drive a true genius mad.