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

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creativity

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

What Is Love? Baby, Don’t Hurt Me: Re-Learning Romantic Love

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      ImageToday’s Mood Ingredients: Fearful, Hopeful, Independent, Open.

I’ve been single for 7 years. SEVEN. I haven’t been lonely for any of them, & it’s not for lack of interested parties or for lack of halfhearted attempts. I always figured I was single for this long because I was making a lot of changes in my life, switching careers, getting life in order, reconnecting with friends, etc. It was only a few months ago (apparently I’m slow on the uptake) that I realized the real reason why I’m single & never ready to mingle. Fear. It’s not a fear of commitment because I’m the most freakishly committed girlfriend you could ever have. Definitely not a fear of monogamy because cheaters makes me homicidal (in a good way?). Somehow, unbeknownst to me, I’ve developed a fear of intimacy (of all kinds) & a fear of loss of freedom. So, as a 32 year old woman who likes relationships & wants children, how do I make this work? Obviously by making my fears public to the world, thereby forcing me to make changes..or at least start by writing about making changes (everything’s a process, guys).

For whatever reason (exes, circumstances, experiences), over the years I’ve begun shying away from emotional & physical contact with people who may be potential mates. I don’t feel like re-telling my life story on a date (I mean, how many times can you go over your own life? I literally started boring myself), I run away like Phoebe Buffay in Central Park (you so remember that episode) at the first sign of someone trying to hold my hand or anything remotely physical (my aversion to PDAs are a long-standing thing so this isn’t really so surprising, but I suppose to recoil from a hand like it’s a mutant tarantula is a little much). Past relationships haven’t turned out for the best for a variety of reasons (infidelities-them, overanalysis/need to prove myself correct when Sherlocking the aforementioned infidelities-me, insecurities-us); & though I’m civil/friends with those little culprits now (which is something fabulous that I think everyone should do if feasible, because it removes a LOT..not all, but still..of emotional cargo & has lightened the load in my life significantly), they clearly impacted the relationship issues I face now. Currently, the thought of a boyfriend makes me break out into hives because I think of all of the weekends/evenings that would have to go into dinners and family meetings at some point and struggling to find my alone time which I so treasure right now. I worry that all of the grandiose dreams I have for myself & my life will end up playing second fiddle to my relationship & at my age, the problem (supposedly) is that I don’t have the luxury of time to delay either my life’s goal or my relationship future. 

So, how does a person re-learn romantic love? I mean, I don’t have to start all over in the general love department because I love my friends in the adore kinda way & I love my family in the obsessed/don’t mess with them/they can never leave me kinda way (that’s an unhealthiness best explained in another post) & I love my dog in the you’re the best thing with 4 legs and a tongue ever created kinda way. But how do you re-learn the I’m-in-love-with-you-you’re-really-attractive-let’s-hang-out-a-lot-and-maybe-make-out kind of love? Trial and error. Perhaps being less cocooned will help, perhaps letting my guard down (SLOWLY) will help people to believe that I’m not, in fact, some intimidating unfeeling ice queen, but rather a vulnerable person with concerns and fears and aspirations and dreams. I’ve also learned that taking all of the pressures coming from other people around me & placing them on myself and the people I meet is not about to help make me open and available, it basically just overwhelms & drives you into a scared turtle state. I’ve also realized that though I have standards, and I refuse to compromise on some of them because I am well aware of what type of individual and what type of relationship I deserve, that some of them may be impossible for anyone to meet & maybe that’s the sole reason why I put them there; so I can say, “Oh well, you don’t meet this requirement of being a chest hair-less dancer who chews with his mouth closed and is sarcastic and doesn’t have a certain last name” & consequently not have to get to know those who don’t fit those standards. I suppose these “realizations” or epiphanies or whatever you want to call them are the first step to moving towards a life that I’m actually willing to share with someone else outside of my carefully & meticulously maintained world of weirdos. That, combined with a strange cocktail of minor narcissism/obsession with genetics/hyper-maternal instinct that makes me want to see more little me’s in the world, will hopefully be the propellors that catapult me into the arena of companionship and romantical love & stabilize me there while allowing me to revel with my own individual identity intact.

There’s no definitive answer on how to feel romantic love again, but there are definitive methods to the madness, and at this moment in time, in the melodic words of Alicia Keys, if you ask me, I’m ready.

Today’s Interlude(s): “Back In The High Life Again,” by Steve Winwood & “Not A Bad Thing” by Justin Timberlake