The major issue I’d have is with the germinal thought that you presented- that I “feel like a leaf blowing in the wind.” I never stated such a sentiment, although considering I removed the post, I can understand how you would make such an error. If anything, I feel like an empty balloon- there are no concepts or ideas within me, of any import. Yes, I can fudge around with sculptris, or put together a few sentences in an adequately coherent manner that detail how I feel politically, but aside from small things like that, I have nothing within my brain that is of any greater import or substance.
What is further is that, after two years of essentially following the advice that you put in your rant- beating my head against the brick wall of a ten-foot think artist’s block, I discovered that I really didn’t like beating my head against that block, considering that after two years, I hadn’t made even the slightest crack in said block. After a point, it ceases to become an exercise in creativity, and more of an exercise in making yourself miserable, and reminding yourself of how uncreative you are at your core, despite your best and most strenuous efforts.
Yes- Jose: I can still pick up a pencil, and draw in an adequate way, but it’s NOT FUN- not even remotely entertaining- I might as well be filling out tax returns. When drawing, or the creative process isn’t entertaining, or rewarding, after years of trying (and yes- I’ve had people give me the same advice you did in your rant no less than four times, over the past two years,) why continue? Because it’s better than sitting and staring off into space? Wow- what a sales point- I could say the same about selling insurance, or (again) filling out tax returns.
I’d say that issue before me now is not so much as to how to regain a creativity that, despite my best efforts, remains non-existent- rather, it is to find a somewhat personal solace in that the creative arts aren’t where my heart lies, anymore, and to find the energy and inventiveness that are required to find a new pursuit that might provide the same enjoyment that drawing used to.
I would further comment: your example of Isaac Asimov- Asimov LOVED writing- there are any one of a thousand interviews you can either read or watch where he speaks about his absolute love for the act of writing- a passion he held throughout his life.
Myself, I just can’t dredge up one bit of damn about anything I’d care to draw, if I bothered. Starting on those Small ideas, before moving on to large ones (as you suggest) is (no offense) a no-brainer. However, when every last those small ideas are far less exciting than a prostate exam, I just can’t imagine how tedious the larger ideas might be.
For example: when I moved up here, Laura and I would both pick up sketchbooks, and challenge each other to draw something- just about each time, I was able to deliver on any challenge- but in the end, the whole process was so dull, I’d invariably either nod off, or come down with a horrific headache. The prospect of pursuing such a tedious process as a form of “leisure” or “enjoyment” is just bizarre and nonsensical.
Dear Eric,
This is not my discussion but let me say this one thing: Like Isaac Asimov, I don’t write to live, I live to write. I am compelled to write, whether in fact or in fiction. But I do so not because I’m connected to my creativity, but because I’m connected to myself and the world. I have a metaphysical framework that drives me.
Do you have such a framework? If not, why not? It sounds to me that you’re not having a creative crisis per se, but an existential one. Nothing else can put up a wall to creativity like that.
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The major issue I’d have is with the germinal thought that you presented- that I “feel like a leaf blowing in the wind.” I never stated such a sentiment, although considering I removed the post, I can understand how you would make such an error. If anything, I feel like an empty balloon- there are no concepts or ideas within me, of any import. Yes, I can fudge around with sculptris, or put together a few sentences in an adequately coherent manner that detail how I feel politically, but aside from small things like that, I have nothing within my brain that is of any greater import or substance.
What is further is that, after two years of essentially following the advice that you put in your rant- beating my head against the brick wall of a ten-foot think artist’s block, I discovered that I really didn’t like beating my head against that block, considering that after two years, I hadn’t made even the slightest crack in said block. After a point, it ceases to become an exercise in creativity, and more of an exercise in making yourself miserable, and reminding yourself of how uncreative you are at your core, despite your best and most strenuous efforts.
Yes- Jose: I can still pick up a pencil, and draw in an adequate way, but it’s NOT FUN- not even remotely entertaining- I might as well be filling out tax returns. When drawing, or the creative process isn’t entertaining, or rewarding, after years of trying (and yes- I’ve had people give me the same advice you did in your rant no less than four times, over the past two years,) why continue? Because it’s better than sitting and staring off into space? Wow- what a sales point- I could say the same about selling insurance, or (again) filling out tax returns.
I’d say that issue before me now is not so much as to how to regain a creativity that, despite my best efforts, remains non-existent- rather, it is to find a somewhat personal solace in that the creative arts aren’t where my heart lies, anymore, and to find the energy and inventiveness that are required to find a new pursuit that might provide the same enjoyment that drawing used to.
I would further comment: your example of Isaac Asimov- Asimov LOVED writing- there are any one of a thousand interviews you can either read or watch where he speaks about his absolute love for the act of writing- a passion he held throughout his life.
Myself, I just can’t dredge up one bit of damn about anything I’d care to draw, if I bothered. Starting on those Small ideas, before moving on to large ones (as you suggest) is (no offense) a no-brainer. However, when every last those small ideas are far less exciting than a prostate exam, I just can’t imagine how tedious the larger ideas might be.
For example: when I moved up here, Laura and I would both pick up sketchbooks, and challenge each other to draw something- just about each time, I was able to deliver on any challenge- but in the end, the whole process was so dull, I’d invariably either nod off, or come down with a horrific headache. The prospect of pursuing such a tedious process as a form of “leisure” or “enjoyment” is just bizarre and nonsensical.
Dear Eric,
This is not my discussion but let me say this one thing: Like Isaac Asimov, I don’t write to live, I live to write. I am compelled to write, whether in fact or in fiction. But I do so not because I’m connected to my creativity, but because I’m connected to myself and the world. I have a metaphysical framework that drives me.
Do you have such a framework? If not, why not? It sounds to me that you’re not having a creative crisis per se, but an existential one. Nothing else can put up a wall to creativity like that.