The Creative Process

Oooh I have an idea!

Holy shit can I really do that?

That can’t be right, surely it’s been done before.

Nope it hasn’t

Well fuck

Is it really that different? That good.

Runs it by countless friends and peers

They haven’t heard anything like it

Do the thing – the idea whispers

But am I made of the right talents? Your doubts whisper back

You forget about it

Or try to

Push that shit back to the depths of your sub consciousness

This is not for me

That decision doesn’t stick

You wake up at 3 fucking am

Incessant

Play with me it shouts

You give in

You start working, it’s light, it’s freeing, it’s fun

You get momentum

You see what someone else is doing and compare

Yours is weirder

You let that comparison sink in

It leeches poison into your work

But the idea teases you back into the groove

You get back to work

You get new ideas

New temptations come to visit

You get distracted

You overcomplicate your original idea by trying to make all your ideas just one conglomeration of things.

You don’t want to give up all the things

You keep going

It’s getting harder now

But more is coming to fruition, you can feel it now.

Then all of a sudden, it disappears

Where the fuck did it go you lament?

You call after your idea

It whispers back, I’m still here, I’m growing my own wings

You mourn the beginning process is over.

You go do other things while you wait

You hope your idea isn’t too changed when it comes back

You keep doing errands, trying to distract your busy mind.

The idea revives!

Hallefuckinglujah

But you feel like you’re meeting for the first time again

Are you still you?

Am I still me?

The answer to both is no.

But yes.

So you both say Hi again.

And are relieved that you can still meet, like lovers who have’t embraced in years.

It feels good, it feels home,

but different.

You ask what now?

And get back to work.

It feels different this time.

The temptation to stay in idea-land grows stronger

You want to doubt each new choice you have to make together.

This pathway or that.

You vow to stick together, see this through.

Say no to all the shiny things

They are very shiny.

You be brave.

You make the choices.

You come across a cruz point.

You want to ask everyone to make the choice for you.

What do you think? You chatter incessantly

The idea waits patiently

Waiting for you to remember your knowing.

And you do.

It’s quieter than before because of the chatter.

But it’s still there.

You listen,

It’s uncomfortable.

You know it’s weirder than before.

Is it too weird?

Maybe it’s just weird enough.

You decide fuck it

ASnd keep moving forward.

Moving is better than staying.

It brings some relief.

You keep creating, actualizing the fruition.

It’s so close.

You can taste it now.

Like summer harvest,

But there’s more hard choice to come.

You know you can do it now.

And your friend the idea, becomes more and more real.

It’s almost a dance now.

You ask, it responds.

You listen, it contributes.

You don’t want this to end.

You delay the final choices.

Taking longer, antagonizing.

Enjoying the process

(secretly)

You don’t want to miss this idea.

You long for more time.

The temptation to complicate ushers itself back in.

You show it the door.

There are more ideas waiting.

Not so patiently.

Keep going they say.

Your idea will still be there, in a different form.

You make the final push.

You mourn the creative process.

But rejoice in the celebration of making things.

That’s what we do.

Make all the things.

Weird, wild, never before things

That pick us to create them.

Their playmate.

Your playmate.

You hold your creation in your hand.

Meeting again, like for the first time.

I can’t believe you’re real you think.

It says “Hi again”

And you know,

You can make more things soon.

But not now.

But soon.

 

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