“And creativity, it soaks my soul, I ask not to be alone”; The Artistic Struggle Is Real

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Unfulfilled, Yearning, Striving, Undone, Explosive.

It’s taken me a long time to feel affected by something enough to unload it onto the internet, but this is one of those long-simmering slow boils that is about to finally pop the top off of the pressure cooker. What is “a creative?” Is it someone who only works in the arts? Is it a social media director? Is it someone who works in public relations? An editor of a magazine? I have no idea as to what concretely defines “a creative” anymore, but I know that I am one. It’s an innate knowledge, probably the only thing I was born sure of, but what I’ve also learned is that at times, it is a G-d damn pain in the ass. Life in the arts, of any kind, is the furthest thing from a smooth ride into a sufficient paycheck & contentedness. It’s definitely easier today than back when I was growing up (and no lie, I’m so envious of these kids attending performing arts high schools and summer dance and drama camps and such, that sometimes I wish I could just be reborn – I’m Hindu-ish, I’m sure it’ll work – and do it all over again).

On any given day, when I go to my routine job in order to fund my passions in design and dance, I’ll be half present. It’s a job that requires organization, work ethic, and some brain power, but not enough that my mind isn’t wandering into my next “masterpiece” of some kind. What’s the strangest ensemble I can put together that I’m sure will push the boundaries of normal construction? What’s the most out-of-the-box movement I can push my body to make in some new choreography? This thought process usually very rapidly progresses to “Why am I not in the arts full-time?” “Why is this not where my life’s funding is coming from?” “Why am I still in healthcare when I quit medical school 7 years ago?” And then come the influx of emotions; disappointment, despondence, whys & what-ifs, sadness, inspiration, rallying, excitement, enthusiasm..lather, rinse, repeat. And those last three words are why as each day goes by, I feel my flame extinguished little by little, slowly but surely.

Why do “creatives” have to struggle to make their contributions matter? We are progressive, we push boundaries, we help people think on alternative planes, we force people to delve deeper into themselves, we sometimes gift people to have the confidence to look deeper into others. So why isn’t creative input as socially important as, for example, a doctor’s? Now, before everyone dumps on me, realize this; I obviously know a doctor has indispensable life-saving skills and they go through a lot to get to that point where their patients trust them enough to literally put their lives in their hands. And yes, of course, a musician or a dancer will need a doctor at some point. But use your right brain for a minute. Have you ever thought about how a musician could possibly be saving a doctor’s life? What about that surgeon in that OR who has been awake for 48 hours not having seen his/her family with someone’s mortality in their hands? What about his/her favorite musician whose labor of love is what they’re playing in the OR to calm their nerves or keep them awake or reach into some emotion or memory or whatever the case may be in order to focus and keep their patient alive & well? We need each other. 

The stigma that an artist is a wishy-washy hippie with no real focus or destination is what keeps us all down, the non-artists included. This creative life is an unforgiving, difficult, lonely, misunderstood, emotionally-turmoiled typhoon..that is also the most fulfilling, evolving, magnetic, identifying, truthful, cathartic, satisfying, authentic one. To not be able to wholly live it is soul-crushing..like a permanent Dementor all up in your face. But those with the tenacity and voracity to live that roller coaster, no matter the cost, are the ones that fly. They are the ones who make change happen, not because they are creative, but because they are full of grit & blind determination & the optimism that tells them everything will happen for them in time.

I want to be that person. I have to be that person. And I’ve given myself a deadline on when I will be that person.

Stay tuned..changes, they are a’comin’.

 

Today’s Wisdom:

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. No satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” -Martha Graham

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Today’s Interlude: “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory

The Boomerang Generation: Breakin’ Up Is Hard To Do

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Thankful, Idol Worship-y, Ageless, Connected, Terrified.

Most of us grew up with a similar dream. Get through K-12, go to college, graduate, move out, be independent, make money, live life. At 17, all you are looking forward to is the freedom-filled lifestyle of living on your own, away from (so thought at the time) nagging parents, going out, meeting new people, etc. At 17, you don’t think you’ll ever be back at your parents’ house when you’re an “adult.” At 17, you’re naive and doe-eyed, frolicking about in your happy little daydream. But it happens. From 18-22, you do exactly what you dreamed of. Most of us get jobs or go to grad school and still continue that dream. And then something else happens; you’re laid off, the market is down, you’re in loan debt, someone needs help, and the next thing you know, you’re 30 years old and sleeping in your childhood bedroom with your parents right next door.

I’ve clearly made things sound awful, but that’s not my intention. Please read on. The Boomerang Generation, as it has now been coined, is defined as:

“[…] the current generation of young adults in Western culture. They are so named for the frequency with which they choose to cohabitate with their parents after a brief period of living on their own – thus boomeranging back to their place of origin. This cohabitation can take many forms, ranging from situations that mirror the high dependency of pre-adulthood to highly independent, separate-household arrangements.” according to Wikipedia (I know, I know, but in this case, it’s on point).

I’ll be the first one to say I’m 100% part of that generation. I went to college in New York City, but stayed on campus. I then moved to Bombay for a year & some-odd months to equal parts escape a traumatic situation and delve into some long-held dreams. I came home for 2 months & then moved to the Caribbean for medical school. I’ve lived in 2 countries, went to a professional school, gotten a job, started my own company, been as independent as can be..only to come right back to the house I’ve lived in since I was 5. Many people come home as a result of necessity, financial or otherwise. I came home for comfort as well. The same irritation I had with my parents at 17 is the same acceptance I have with them at 32. To give them their due, they’ve also had to grow and change between my brother & myself discovering alcohol, quitting our respective professional schools, relationship woes, etc. (this also means they’re less annoying & more understanding now..or maybe we are, who knows). We all accept each other as adults and honestly, my parents are 2 of my closest friends, & pretty freaking interesting, intelligent, and diverse people. I talk choreography with my mom, toss back a few brews with my dad (sorry, trying to appeal to the XYs here too) and we just plain hang out like homies on a brownstone stoop waxing poetic about the good old days and dreaming of the new old days. Obviously we all get on each others’ nerves from time to time and no matter how old we are or how experienced they are, a parent is a parent is a parent and my dad still tells me to “Stop drinking sodas and all of this junk, you’ll get kidney stones” and “Look for a good guy” and my mom still tells me to “live a routine life” and “Can you please not go out on Friday nights because then I have trouble on Saturday mornings after staying awake until you get home.” These are peppered in between the “You will be successful, I know you will-s” & the “You can do everything you want to do, we will help you and make sure of it-s.”

Recently, I almost lost both of them in the span of 4 months & it has been the toughest experience of my life. Being forced to face my most terrifying fear with no control over any aspect of the situations or circumstances is not the way I had wished to spend Christmas & the new year. But over the time I spent in the hospitals and doctors’ offices and being Florence Nightingale, I learned that despite all of my gilded dreams and wanderlusting fantasies, I was never more thankful that I was at home with them. That I could, in whatever absolute miniscule way, try to repay them for their years of selflessness, confidence, education, tolerance, acceptance, guidance, never-ending love, and a limitless list of other adjectives.

The point is, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you’re one of my boomerang brethren. These are the people who love you unconditionally and raised you to the best of their abilities and for many of us who are 1st generation Americans, probably also sacrificed incredible amounts to give you the life you enjoy (whether it doesn’t always feel that way or not) today. They’re not going to be the ones who shame you or guilt you when you need to come home; after all, wasn’t it them who incessantly lamented about the whole “empty nest” thing anyway!? The stigma that used to befall those adults who still lived at home (“OH, YOU STILL LIVE WITH YOUR MOM!?”) is not as prevalent today, and I, for one, am glad for it. The only thing I’m worried about now is if, & when, my parents try to break up with me: “It’s not you, it’s us.” 😦

Basically, there’s no place like home, and OH, BTW, BRADLEY COOPER STILL LIVES WITH HIS MOM TOO so I think we’re all gonna be just fine.

Today’s Interlude: Taylor Swift, “Never Grow Up”