We like to think that something that was made has been crafted out of genius, ease and good ol’ fashioned hard work. Often times, we view our favourite works of art, be them paintings, films, plays, broadway musicals, songs etc as something mystic, gifted and heaven sent. We view their existence in our space as something we have acquired because we are owed to have it and it should come easily into our presence. We view those who created these things as someone who works hard at their craft and sacrificed all their time and energy to make it. We also in the same token, view them as someone who chose creativity over hard work.
All of these things are true.
None of these things are true.
The truth is,
the flow of creativity comes both easy and hard. It can feel as if it’s all come out of you at once and it can also feel as if it is like trying to squeeze water out of a rock. Utterly possible and impossible at the same time.
In every creative project that I find myself in, I also find myself at war with everything else.
It’s almost laughable at how time and time again this happens.
Right now, it’s as simple as needing nine separate writing sessions to re-write a draft.
All I am wanting is nine days to do it. I could even make it work in five days if I had to.
Yet those five to nine days, of days without a child in my care, allude me and a few scant hours here and there are not the way to put forth your best work. (any true writer / creative knows, you simply can’t perform your best work the moment a countdown begins. You need, as all athletes need to do before they do anything, a warm up.)
So here I am, showing up at my desk early on a Monday morning and doing my best to fit at least one of the nine sessions in while my husband takes vacation hours to get the ‘little’ to and from pre school and hope upon hope that when he returns I will have succeeded, at least, with one of the nine sessions and that I don’t waste the precious time that we are sacrificing to honour the creative call.
Truth be told,
if I didn’t care, if I didn’t have any real desire to create good work, I wouldn’t be here. I would just say “to hell with it” and leave the ideas as ideas on the cutting room floor of my mind.
The real work is in battling the real life that tries to come against starting anything. Doing anything from noting.
The timing is never right.
So it’s do or don’t do.
And I guess I am too stubborn and intrigued to not do.
So I do.
