Guest post by author Dawn Milstrey
After experiencing someone’s work, be it a book, a painting, a performance, etc., the first thing most people ask is where do you get your inspiration? It is a simple question, with a complicated answer summed up in one word…creativity.
Creativity lives inside all of us in one form or another. How we act on it is what separates the writer, the artist, and the performer, from the reader, the connoisseur, and the audience. Although divided, each of these groups are equally important to
the delicate balance of creativity.
For some, the pull to act on their creative impulse simply can’t be ignored. The intensity builds inside them and makes its presence known when one least expects it, and it lingers long after the moment passes. Eventually, it pushes forward from
within, tugging at their soul, insisting that they take hold of it and act on impulse, resulting in an expression which is then privately savored by the individual or bravely shared with the world.
This relentless, overwhelming, sometimes madcap creative rush is summed up in the following example written to express the emotion that drives the result...
Creativity's Sweet Rush
It always seems to wash over me late at night when the house is quiet, and the day is done and it’s time to lay down and recharge body and soul for the next day.
I try to ignore it, to close my eyes and drift into a peaceful slumber, to lightly dream of flowers gently peeking through the warm earth and slowly stretching up, up, up towards the bright sun. Their pale green stems are topped with swelling buds, hiding
their colorful gifts within.
Soon, in my mind’s eye, all at once as if on cue, the buds dramatically explode one after another after another after another, their intense colors like fireworks against the deep green grass of summer.
And once again…I’m wide awake.
The relentless creative rush has reached right into my peaceful dream and grabbed hold of me demanding that I produce, insisting that I rip my talent from within, shaping it and molding it until I feel that satisfaction of completion, of pride, of
willingness to place it on display for all the world to see…my inner most feelings expressed in my art set out and exposed to anyone and everyone.
I wish I could bottle that intense feeling of passion and enthusiasm that only seems to come in the darkness of night, sealing it up to keep it fresh and bubbly and flavorful, holding it’s drive and intensity within the glass. Once captured, I would save it for times in the daylight when I really wanted to be clever and productive, when I really NEEDED to be clever and productive.
Pulling it from the shelf I would drink it down all at once and feel it quickly spread through me, that sweet rush reaching every spot where my creativity hides, just when it really needs to be found. Its intense flavored effervescent would take hold of me, bubbling up, up, up, and out as inspiration spills through my eyes and hands.
Wide awake and having given in to the undeniable need to create, I now think about that sweet rush all bottled up in my mind, sparkling within its imaginary glass vessel, bubbling with real possibilities. I hold onto that thought as I imagine how it would taste like ice cold grape soda on a hot summer day, cool and sweet as it quenches my thirst and rejuvenates my soul.
My mind then quickly fixates on thoughts of summer, of the warm sun on my skin, a cool breeze blowing through my hair, making the strands dance about like the branches of tall trees in the meadow just beyond my flower garden where pops of color paint the summer day in bright cheerful hues, filling the bucolic scene from top to bottom.
In the dark of night, facing my easel I dip my well-worn brush into thick paint and let it glide about in swirly strokes recreating that very garden. It isn’t until the sun begins to rise that I am finished releasing all that was bottled up inside me and I form my name in the lower corner, completing that moment in time now frozen on my canvas.
Satisfied, proud, and willing to place this creation which exists before me on display for all the world to see, my innermost feelings set out and exposed to anyone and everyone, I can finally, once again, drift off to sleep and begin a new dream.