Posts Tagged ‘creativity’

The Hermit, Ryder-Waite Pack

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Life, sometimes, is not too easy. We all take in stride and do the best we can the best we know how. We simply HAVE  to trust our abilities, our judgements, our soul, our values, our yearnings and how we define and perceive ourselves. All these aspects are sorely tested and we yearn for authenticity. We do the best we can as we sojourn our dark hours, as Persephone descends into Hades. We have to find solace in our Hermit self, the archetype of the learning space of our spirit, and once we learn our lessons, or perhaps bide our time as destiny determines, we rise as Phoenixes resurrected. Tempered by the furnace of the Fates, we learn in humility our strength as Kings and Queens of our Destiny, and then rebuild our Castle which may have been been torn down.


Elizabeth Gilbert Speaks on Nurturing Creativity for TED:

I came across something I found insightful regarding the creative process on TED. Elizabeth Gilbert talks about being vulnerable as creative people often do. Ms Gilbert, if you have not heard of her, wrote the popular book “Eat Pray Love”. I read the book quite some time ago, when I found myself in the peculiar position of going through a difficult divorce. (Yes, and I watched the movie, too. And, needless to say, the book is far better than the movie as usual.)

She speaks about her own vulnerability as a result of her own success; she has to confront the expectations and pressures of writing something that has got to be as spectacularly successful as her previous work.

I will let her speak for herself, and I hope it will encourage us to respect our creative Djinn, Daemon or Muse, whatever we might call ours, and write in spite of its silence. I hope you’d find it as inspiring as I did, or more.

Elizabeth Gilbert on Nurturing Creativity

Blog? But why?

Posted: April 6, 2012 in Blogs
Tags: , , , ,

I do not know what to make of this blog. There are too many competiting voices inside my head; politics; humanity; creative writing; ideas for lessons, but the easiest one is probably to use this as an avenue to unburden my thoughts from clutter. After a long ‘meeting’ over a stream of lager with an ‘life-experienced’ ex-colleague and an amateur blogger of many years, this is what I derived:

1. I can look at things somewhat resigned and nihilistic and realise that the world will just be the same as it ever has, with its flaws and beauty, inhumanity and the victories of the human spirit against its travails.

2. I have a limited number of years, and I should know what matters, at the end of one’s day and life. I should choose what I want to be exasperated about enough to write about it.  I will need to bridle my curiosity, and I am a very curious invidivual. Life is transient, ephemeral, and departure is often sudden, as a recent bereavement has taught me.

3. Be true to myself and basically STW if they cannot accept my idiosyncrasies which I am entitled to as long as they do not  traumatise others.

4. I need to unprison my creativity, most of it hidden behind mental clutter.

5. I should give the alter-egos in my head some breathing space.

5.Finally, I shouldn’t really care if anyone does read this blog.  I am writing this because I like to write and because I think I can.

“Why do you want to be a writer?” asks David Morell, who started writing “First Blood” in 1968, a movie that turned blockbuster eighteen years later.

Morell never did expect the commercial success “First Blood”, slipping the name of his character, Rambo, on to the lips of an American President and a household name and American icon across the world.

What inspired him was the sheer excitement of imagining the thrill of an battle-hardy Vietnam veteran with an arrogant small-town sheriff, and bringing the war home.

He asks this question to present a reality check to all would-be authors. The effort required of all authors are considerable. Time. Lots of it. Effort that could be better used elsewhere, and guarantee some return on investment.

The world is flooded with hundreds of thousands authors and would-be authors in this era of blogdom and self-publishing, across genres and type. Writers have to contend with years of time, energy and other resources without any guarantee of returns. Any would-be authors had better keep their day jobs, Morell and many other professional writers advise.

Some might seek fame. How many of knew David Morell as the author of First Blood? Honestly, I didn’t. I found that out not too long ago from his book, “Lessons From a Lifetime of Writing: A Novelist Looks at His Craft”. Recognition is short-lived and not too different from many other careers in the marketplace, you’¢re only as good as your last game.

Why do I want to write? Would I write if it never bought me the Ferrari 400 I saw on Discovery Channel, or see my name in the credit rolls of a movie or an award-winning documentary?

I need to put some old demons to rest. For one, to quieten that old incessant nag that creeps up on me on those quiet nights when, close to sleep I ask,

If I could do anything without the possibility of failure, what would it be?

“Write,” it replies in an imperceptible whisper.

“If I die in a year, what would I want to be doing?”

“Write,” it prods.

I want to write for the memory of casting my tiny little green WWII soldiers, cast as Leftenant Hanley and Sgt Saunders, of the TV series Combat, leading a platoon to rappel down a steep cliff of a chair with Mum’s sewing threads, fighting off – mum’s – big-jawed, long-teethed monster hairclips when I was seven.

I want to write for the family who always thought I was the creative one, though always a rebel. My sister secretly kept a story I had written at thirteen for a class assignment. A friend won a storytelling competition at the community level with a tale I penned for her at twelve.

I want to write again after a long hiatus, after short stint as a reporter in a food magazine. I want to write holding the thought of those who wrote back with praise in response to my articles. They were my readers. Subsequently, Life gave back, with seven years of a buffet of destinations across the world experience in the hospitality and travel industry. I have no regrets whatsoever.

A friend told me he had cut out an article for the magazine, which I wrote 15 years ago, when I was only his acquaintance, and he thought the article was a refreshing one and had a distinct voice from the rest of the journal. I covered a hoi polloi beat.

To rekindle the sense of pride for every decent essay I wrote in school and the sense of complete exhilaration and rapture creating an imaginary world during an important English composition examination at sixteen. The poignant stories I spinned in my head for the sheer heck of it. Even if it involved ballerinas and commando troopers.

I want to write because it is the last thing I want to do and if I don’t, I know I will live long enough to regret it.

Now, I have to go find my voice.