I recently read this article called 18 things highly creative people do differently. I always enjoy such articles, full of fascinating bits of information about the way my own mind works. None of it is quite a surprise, but it awakens somehow, inspires, some of the hidden corners in the city of my mind. Just as certain books are immediately, clutchingly important to me because they tell me things about myself... reminding me of all the things that make me feel alive... like a strain of Will Stanton's music, or a painting of a Narnian ship.
And for certain ones of us, surrounding ourselves with these certain colors, pictures, and stories is astonishingly important to our everyday thinking and creative processes. I find myself very easily muddled by the vicissitudes of life. Particularly in the creative realm. Creativity is a natural sort of thing, and doesn't love pushing. So when life is feeling a bit tumultuous and scattered, it can be hard to get back into the various arts I love. The difficulty comes when I have to be intentional about serendipity, and scheduled with my daydreaming. It seems like it can't be done, or even that it shouldn't be done. But the truth is that in real life, those beauties rarely come on their own.
We are the ones who must work for our free time, and fight for the hours in which we are allowed to forget about time, and meals, and telephones. We read late into the night, and on buses and benches and kitchen counters. We fold our napkins into curious shapes, and scribble ideas down so quickly during work hours that they're nearly indecipherable later on.
And it's beautiful. And it's worth it. I see myself in that article, and amid life's clamor I appreciate the reminder: these things are, in fact, important. It's how I work. And I love it.