the Trauma of Creation

Updated: Oct 2, 2018


2.3


Being a creator is a long and lonely road. You have to spend hours, days, and years to build something and in the end it is often an undiscovered territory. You may have the most flawless gem that you created yet it is buried in the myriad of detritus of the world.

I am not alone in this. I look around all the time and see works of great effort and fantastic imagination. It's not that I do not let these others know I appreciate their work, or hold it in regard because I do. Yet there is a war I am waging to get myself seen, I have to make my gemstone see the light of day.

This is not grousing or complaining, it is a reality. I recall as I worked hard in my youth to draw, paint, work at materials I had never thought or touched. From ink to oil paint, there was no medium I steered clear of. (Okay, I avoided silk screening, but that is another matter).

But during those long silent years I would make such drawings and art, only to not be satisfied with the result only to destroy it because I felt it was unworthy of daylight. For every image and bit of art I produce, write, and work on has a graveyard of works that were laid to rest by me.

Even now I recall perfect paintings where I should have left it be, but in striving for perfection I ruined what was the epitome of what I was attempting to do. It must be like race car driving, get to a certain speed, then maintain, go to fast and you will wreck. Fortunate for myself I grew up on video games so there is always an “extra life”.

There is a payoff someday, I see it, I dream it, I believe it. As an artist, there is always the pain of knowing that many a work died so that one great piece could become a reality. This is part of the price, you put a piece of yourself in every word, every stroke of a pen, every click of a mouse.

The only thing that feeds the emptiness of what you sacrifice is the unquenchable desire to do more. There is no payoff. It is like going to sleep and waking up again to get back to work. To hammer at the anvil of creativity. To never give up. To sit upon a hoard of great works knowing that someday the dam that holds back your worlds will soon break by the growing power of your reservoir of determination.

33 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All