The creative process defines me. It is an intrinsic part of who I am. I can try and step away from it, but like a junkie I find myself going on edge craving the need to be creative- to write, to film, to explore the creative process. I can’t really get away from it. It is a personal addiction, yet so much more. Without it I feel hollow. Within it there is the struggle to give birth to an idea crudely formulated, sometimes not even known as I open myself up to the medium and let flow.
Through the struggle there is the joy of seeing something you had a part in come to life. It is something that holds forth its own life, its own breath. Although my name may hover around the creation it speaks for itself. It invites others in to meet it, to show what it has to say, or to try to unlock some part of another, opening them to something new-a new world, a new idea, different way of seeing something, challenging one’s own closely held perceptions or simply opening the mind in some small way.
If I were left in a room with nothing I would still find something to work with. Stories would build in my head. I would look at my situation and find new ways of looking at it which would only elicit new ideas to work with. I would stare at the blank walls and use them as my canvas, perhaps using my own blood if need be. But, alas I am not one of those violent artists who would conduct violence upon themselves to unleash their art.
Nevertheless my art is not just something I live for it is a vital part of me. It is there in the day to day. Living within. Allowing me to see things in different ways or calling forth an idea from the most mundane of things I may come across.
This creative force I value within my life and believe that within all of us there is a creative force that is breathing there within our souls and calling out to all of us to awaken, to create, to explore, to play…