Thoughts on Inspiration
Originally published on Jul 2, 2021
We often don’t think of inspiration as being composed of different elements. To most, it is akin to a bubble. It is rounded and whole, and when it comes floating towards us, it is a magical thing. Just like Glinda The Witch of the North, coming to just to guide our path back home.
After years of chasing after this elusive emotion, I found it to be very unlike that singular, solid entity that I initially thought it was. I found that inspiration operates similarly to a working body, or an old grandfather clock, cogs and all. Composed of a variety of moving parts, and made to all work together in unison.
All these magical parts have to come together to make it ring in our ears, and so we can hear the ticking of our creative hearts. Without all these essential parts, it isn’t quite the same.
For example, we can look at beautiful things all day, and not feel one drop of creative inspiration. In fact, we may feel worse about ourselves and continue down the path of disbelief in our ability. But there is something unique about pure inspiration. Let’s call it the “I can make that” factor. Where when we look at something, and it just clicks that that is our destiny to make it, and it’s not that we can make it, but we will make it, and nothing will stop us.
Here I am in bed at 4:30 in the morning, wondering about how this type of inspiration can come to fruition in my own mind. How can we conjure it up within ourselves, and not have it turn into a disgusting mutated blob of frustration at ourselves and our art?
From my experience, that’s the problem, it seems. Without that final ingredient, carrying through inspiration to completion is impossible. We can love something as much as we want, we can admire another's art as much as we want, but we can’t decide when that eureka moment will strike. It’s like lightning. We witness it in the night skies, but only rarely does it join us here on earth.
When It Happened To Me
I’ve only had three very strong moments that contained The “ I can do that” factor. One was when I had my beginnings in drawing, I came across someone’s art on the internet. I couldn’t draw like that, but I knew one day that I would draw like that. And with photography it was the same, I was scrolling online, and I was inspired, and everything clicked in place, even the “I can make that” element as well. The most important ingredient.
Because if we don’t believe we ourselves are capable, then nothing will be made. We can follow through as well, but it may only be made half-heartedly. It won’t be perfect enough.
Funnily, I’ve realized that once that Eureka moment is in place, no matter what I make, despite a plethora of flaws it may have, is instantly perfect in my eyes. Because it is a stepping stone, a beautiful, fantastic stepping stone. One that I will dance upon every time, even when I look back at it in memory.
How can we reach this moment? Personally, I have yet to create this moment deliberately. I’ve been stuck waiting for that moment to visit me. I feel like Wendy from Peter Pan, waiting for Peter to whisk her off to Neverland once again. Yet, he doesn’t come, and Wendy gets older.
We can’t always choose those moments, but we can prepare ourselves for when they do happen. We can set ourselves up to be the most wonderful human beings we can before the time comes, we can perfect our skills, we can follow other things we love. In doing this, perhaps then this elusive artistic spirit will deem us as worthy and visit me.
I do want to let you know, that while I have no idea what brings these moments or feelings into existence, I can assure you that they do exist, and they can visit you at any age.
My first one came at 14, as I watched a dog chase the car I was in while my family was being driven away from a house up in the snowy mountains. That same evening I began writing my first novel. I didn’t even ask myself if I knew how to write one, it just was essential that it had to exist.
The second and third were of the visual arts nature that I mentioned earlier. It was almost like it chose me as the vessel for it to come into this world. It knew that it would both be safe here and that I would properly deliver it into the world, and give it the best entrance into being.
These feelings often make me wonder if I will ever be worthy again; if I will be so lovely as to be kissed by this emotion. I feel that these thoughts bring us farther away from it. We can’t ask for it to come, we can’t shout at it angrily, asking why the thunder isn’t there when we have clear skies.
I can ask myself for days, months, why creativity isn’t visiting my door. Why isn’t it choosing me? Perhaps I’m not the one choosing myself. Why would inspiration bless those who didn’t believe? I know I wouldn’t hire someone for a job when they didn’t believe they couldn’t do it.
When I woke up in the morning, I stepped out to deadhead a few seed pods from the poppies that had sprung up in my neighborhood. As I opened them, and watched the seeds flood out I could only think one thing: Beauty surely will beget beauty. We just need someone to plant the seeds.
I don’t know when it will happen, or how or in what way. But perhaps if I keep telling myself that I can, or just even stop telling myself that I can’t, then I will be deemed worthy again to carry this new child of inspiration. And then one day, just like lighting, I believe it will come to find me again.
This visual is stellar, too. Wonderful work.