By Jacob Jones
One could suppose that for most, the creative process is some grand mystery. There are tales of men and women diving to the depths of the sea and hurling themselves out of aircraft seeking inspiration. Some say agony is a necessary precursor to beauty. Others theorize a more relaxed flow of unconcentrated thought will provide the Creative a supply of imaginatively fluid materials with which to create. Typically, a method of creation found to be particularly aesthetically, auditorily, or otherwise sensually appealing, and all the associated products of that methodology, are called “Art.” As a subject. Art is subjective. Literature is ambiguous. Music resonates somewhere between nonsensical and profound. Creativity is hardly more than an enigma, Yet it is the essence of the human form. In reference to historical documents, spiritual scriptures, medical records, and archaeologically relevant artifacts, creation is the way in which we most realistically imitate the divine. Whether that entity is a mere physical phenomena, spontaneously appirating, or deitistically engineered crystalline order which catalyzed our synthesis. Those who create, replicate their creators. They, likely, were “Created” by their mother and father. Interestingly, humans, and a few other species become capable of using tools to achieve various means and ends well before they reach physical maturation. Necessity breeds creativity. Perhaps the tools are required to leave a mark. Originally, tools were manufactured to eat. Perhaps the tools are required to make tools necessary to perform a task. One could speculate there would be an infinite measure of depth to this process, which is most simply an answer to an urge. To take something, or several somethings, and manufacture from the collection of their parts, something else, akin to original genesis.
Whether it is required for culinary endeavors, psychological ventilation, or pigments on a palette, creation springs from the depths of one’s primal biology. The processes it is applicable to are as limitless as the human brain’s capacity to imagine. Quite fittingly, we as a species are creative in our sleep. Most of us do not even remember the vast majority of the highly vivid dream sequences we experience every time we sink into unconsciousness. You see… Creativity is in the realm of the imagination. It does not have atomic mass, unless it does, and it comes from a well in an ocean of infinite potential. Creativity is, In my opinion, a thought process which combines ingenuity, and curiosity. Then it welds them to a quantum reactor distributing mechanical energy. To create means definitively to generate anew.
Writer’s block does not exist. A writer writes. The rest will work itself out after the fact. A good writer might unimaginatively portray a recipe for chocolate chip cookies. A bad writer makes many mistakes. A painter paints. A fish swims. It does not contemplate why it is not walking. If you find you lack the lustre of shine to a certain task, perhaps your mind desires a new outlet. Some think first. Personally, I favor the Hemingway philosophy. “Sit down at the typewriter and bleed.”