So you have no doubt noticed that I do not write with great frequency these days, and it's not that I am lacking any sort of peace of mind or inner stillness or anything like that, but more that I seem to have reached the end of my skills as they exist naturally within my person. Don't worry, I'm far from putting down my pen, but I am a ways off from learning how to better use it. I'm currently using my energy to find a job that will satisfy my wants from employment, and trying to track down college folk to find out the best course to pursue my education. Right now it's looking like a tie between Ph.D's in Creative Writing, or American and British Literary Modernism. Who knows...maybe I'll get both. In the meantime I am helping a local writer by editing his screenplay. I am rather stalled out on both of my pieces so I figure helping somebody else succeed might be a good way to channel my desire to be artistically involved and keep my chops up (so to speak).
Now, here is the point that I've been wanting to convey to all of you (whomever you may be) for some time now, but somehow lacked the words to voice it. In light of my writer's block I have struggled to put words to paper, or come up with music of my own which only served to bring me to this conclusion. Creativity is useless without inspiration.
Creativity is useless without inspiration.
Look at writers like Woody Allen, or songwriters like Damien Rice. Sure, they still create something; but it's always some jangle of broken ideals and neurotic views on sexual conquest. As if the world needs more of that somehow. Don't read too much into what I'm saying here, I think that Woody Allen and Damian Rice are both very talented artists...I just don't prefer their basic level of material. I trust that both of them occasionally rise above their base levels, but the mob prefers their more crude materials. Then again, I could be wrong. All in all; I feel a great swell of pity for the artists that are trapped in their development by their fans. We fans do a great deal of abuse in that way. But I digress, so I'll just jump right back on track here.
What I've come to in the lack of creative inspiration is a proper view of my own life as being a piece of art. But crafted and wielded by a far worthier Hand. This isn't to say that everything I do is beautiful, or even good and admirable. But more that even the things that come out of me that look ugly are being blended and incorporated into something far greater and more beautiful than I could ever fathom. So rather than capturing these things with a mind and a voice that needs honing, I am content to be a part in what God is doing in the world. I am more content to be a part of that. It's a lot like playing music without recording it. The sound is vibrant and full of life in the present, and then it's gone. I rather prefer things that way right now because, for the time being, to try and hammer them into words would do them injustice. This way I can look on a fonder memory of past beauty as it grows and is distilled by present circumstance. One day (and soon I should hope) I will put all into words, music, or photographs. But for now I'd rather experience the true art.
Of course every once in a while, the bubble will rise in my soul and I will write it down for you, but it may not be often.
Thanks for reading!
~Matticus
