Considering the Art of Creativity, by Paula Moore, #paulamooreart
Creativity is a real and wild thing. It is a quiet whisper. It is the noise of running footsteps towards you. It stops abruptly and hides just beyond the corner, and then tiptoes quietly back into your thoughts. It fades and disappears perhaps returning in the middle of the night. Sometimes this creativity thing is red hot and other times stone cold. It is the flow of imageries continually moving through in bits and pieces asking to be captured by you, else gone forever. These ideas are like a dot-to-dot page where the specks appear at first glance to be in a random, unrecognizable pattern. Then you begin at dot one, move to dot two, then on to the next. Slowly the design immerges. In fact, you become instinctively aware where the next step will lead. You’ll know where you need to curve the line and when it needs to be straight. You have to pay attention to the twists, zigs and zags!
Yes, creativity is a wild thing. Whether it is in the writing of music, poetry, a novel, interior design, painting, and the creative art list goes on and on. To be true to my creative spirit, I must continue to be open and available to the ebb and flow of those ideas that come to me. Sometimes I am more in tune, anticipating the next move. Other times, the volume is turned way down like background noise. Other times, I’m aware that the flow of ideas has been completely muted. I find I must be open and available. I must keep myself in the mindset of looking for creativity everywhere and be as diligent as searching for that proverbial four leaf clover.
When these two significant elements, willingness and ability, are present, those creative, dot-to-dot random thoughts form the structure and strategy for that new song or book or painting. For me, my best method is to snatch these illusive ideas as by jotting them in my journal. It may be this little seeded notion that has the potential to grow into something amazing and to be shared with others. Then, if I’m observant, here comes to my mind another little sketch, a phrase or an art word. My heart sings and I am moved to perhaps love this thing I’m creating! Did this wild thing choose me?
If it is a worthy idea and I am listening, the thought will return to me over and again in new ways. I gather these bits and save them in individual sleeves in my idea binder. There they wait hoping to be my next wild, creative baby. Some take years to be birthed, after many hours of me feeling ill with long, laborious pains, angst, and waves of doubt. Other creative ideas are short and sweet and frankly, easily popped out! It is this creative journey that should be cherished and not only the finished delivered product. This is because the creative journey process is never quite finished. After all the efforts, months, years of working on your creative scheme….then SUDDENLY! The starving musician is an over-night sensation after 15 years; the self -taught artist suddenly is noticed after 25 years and 5 hours of painting, the novelist, after enumerable reject letters, finds herself on the best seller list. That well-loved song is known by heart; and the book, becomes a cherished classic. Viewers add their contemplations to the priceless, painted masterpiece.
Therefore, without further ado, I introduce another BEAUTIFUL, CREATIVE, WILD THING into the world! A creative, living, breathing wild thing which without my nurturing love and attention will wither and die. I’ve got this.
Wild Thing, you make my heart sing!
Wild Thing, by the Troggs*
Wild Thing, YOU make my heart sing!
YOU make everything groovy! Wild Thing!
Wild Thing, I think I love you!
But I wanna know for sure!
So, come on and hold me tight. I love you!
Wild Thing, I think YOU need me!
But I wanna know for sure!
So, come on and hold me tight. YOU move me!
Taylor, Chip. (1966). Wild thing. [Recorded by The Troggs]. On vinyl. London, England: Fontana UK Records.
Such a vivid and accurate description of the creative process. Keeping a notebook is a wonderful idea. I feel my notebook being birthed!