Thursday, January 14, 2010
I’ve always been the most creative in my darkest states. I guess that’s why recently, I’ve struggled to drum up any inspiration. Happiness. My wife has always told me to learn how to be inspired by ‘happy.’ But I think as most creative, tortured souls go; our inspiration is fired from desperation. I used to draw and write music but those days seem to have passed. Just the other day, I was musing about how I haven’t come up with any truly engaging visuals in the last few years. I can only extrapolate this assertion to the current ‘happy’ chapter in my life where I’m now a husband, a father of two punk children, and work for the man.
Occasionally, I miss the days where I was stumbling and drowning in tears of frustration and fear. When you’re in the emotional basement, you appreciate the long climb out, even if it’s only up to the ground floor. The process of climbing is empowering, the milestones are huge, the lessons are epic, and the growth is immeasurable. This isn’t to say that I’m ready to throw a grenade on my current chapter and get back there. No way. What I’m saying is that I miss the emotional fragility of stages long since past. Out of them came great creativity and realizations of self.
A new year makes you think about the past and how shitty it was at times. Interestingly, I’ve been reconnecting with friends from my past. In that regard, I received an email from a blast from the past from my very first days at American Racing in 1999. It was a quick email looking for a favor to which I was quick to assist. But what got me thinking was that this email hit rewind on the tape back to 1999. I once was the man behind several brands of automotive wheels. I miss those days where I had a ‘name’ in an industry. While those days have passed, the essence still exists. It made me think about sketching wheels again after a five year hiatus to see where it goes. If they make it into 3D models, photo-realistic renders, or even tangible products remains to be seen. On another interesting note, I’ve recently networked overseas manufacturing. Despite all of that, I’m appreciative of hearing from this voice to reconnect me with old creative desires.
I also read a great blog entry from a close friend whose creativity, compassion, and inspiration are something to truly behold. 10 years ago, she, her husband, and several friends created a 1999 time capsule. They dropped in several mementos, assorted trinkets, and each wrote their innermost thoughts on index cards. Some took it seriously and others not so much. With the beginning of 2010, they reopened the time capsule to gauge their life in 2009 versus their life in 1999. Her writing was an eye opener on the dynamic changes 10 years can orchestrate when you are not looking. With that, each person wrote a new personal note and reinserted into the new time capsule which won’t be opened for another 10 years. The end of the entry was what really resonated with me. As she looked around her quiet house, and with the knowledge of the changes of the past 10 years, she came to grips with inevitable changes the next 10 years will impart on her and her family and embraced the future.
Very well written and inspirational:
http://scukanecs.blogspot.com/2010/01/y2k-time-capsule.html
Reflecting on my own growth without the aid of a time capsule, I’m much calmer and more objective now than I ever was as a kid. Hell, even more than just 10 years ago. But I think the message here is about trying to re-channel that youthful fragility and fear that once kept us full of desire. It just seems that, as adults, we have softened and lost that edginess where we felt we were on the brink of losing everything around us. There’s something pure in imbalance and the corrective action needed to overcome it. We, as adults, sometimes forget that common denominator.
Reflecting on the past is a good thing. Getting caught up in it, is another. I’m grateful for the reconnection with several voices from my past, two of which are mentioned here. The reflection has allowed me to leverage old memories into new creative energies for future ideas as well as re-energize old projects. I’m looking forward to some new sketching as well as continuing forward on a 20 year creative endeavor that requires new focus. More importantly, I’m really into the ‘happy’ phase. Apparently, it has some people around me a little shocked to say the least. I’m still learning how to channel the positive energy. It’s taken seven years to get to this point but it’s all about the journey, not the destination.
From my own experience, there are two major things about youth that change with the passage to adulthood. The first you already hit on... the somewhat subconscious feeling of helplessness, or at least lack of control. As we grow older, gain more experience, and become more self-sufficient, these feelings tend to fade. No more teenage angst and emo poems. On the other hand, the process of growing up automatically presents us with change. Our bodies grow all by themselves, opening up new physical possibilities. Our hormones change, presenting new emotions. Our abilities multiply and improve, until our parents kick us out of the house. Many experiences are completely new while growing up, not just in degree, but in kind. So many changes are happening all of the time that we can't really fall into habitual patterns. One adulthood is reached, however, change is forced upon us much less frequently by our own bodies. It is easy to fall into a rut. Also, when we're young, we don't really have anything. Life is wide open, since there isn't much to lose. But now, in my 30s, I have accumulated a fair amount of things... a home, material possessions, a circle of friends, a career, and so forth. So, instead of viewing the future with reckless abandon, with visions of what might be acheived, a common trait of adulthood is to view the future with more caution so as not to f*ck up what has already been acheived.
The trick, I think, is to identify those things which excited us as youth that still excite us today, then act upon those things. As a kid, I was always energized by writing and music. I daydreamed about being an author or a rock star. But I instead chose a "safer" path, like most adults do, and became a career man. I decided a few years ago, though, that writing and music needed to become a part of my life again. And it is only recently that I summed up the courage to actually do it. I still have my career, but the decision has required me to break other "safe" habits. Still, I find myself with new energy... or perhaps I should say, I have rediscovered an old energy that had been abandoned and forgotten. And the really cool part is, I can apply the years of additional experience and perspective to the passions of long ago, and I am finding that the manifestations of my creative efforts have become more powerful.
Anyway, I hope to encourage you in the rediscovery of your passions, as your post has encouraged me. Let 'er rip, buddy.
Malloy