The Learned Skill of Creativity
No one is born creative. Creativity only arrives in the aftermath of experiences. If one has no experiences, no art (neither cohesive nor unintelligible) will ever materialize. One may see perfectly fine as a child, but has to learn the skill of observation. Likewise, a child may hear every frequency from 20 Hz to 20 kHz, but may be poor in the discipline of intent listening. Thirdly, one may identify every sense and sensation for eternity, but must reap a true bounty from their experience to express and share it (either with themselves or with the world).
The generosity of sharing one’s imaginative spirit, whether expressed to an audience of one or one million, is virtuous if the creative individual acts as if the other possibility were true. With no notoriety and full contentment, any artist may find comfort and pleasure in the act of creating. Nothing more. Those who share their creations with an audience other than themselves would be suited to not tarnish and dilute their creative spirit in the Sisyphean climb towards the unreachable peak of pleasuring everyone else. Thus, a more creatively-inductive approach would be to ensure the absence of the joy-feeding parasite that is comparison. To play, draw, sing, write, dance, and speak, one finds humility in the acknowledgement of their flaws, both immanent and idiosyncratic. No art exists without the inevitable consequence of blemished spirits, broken bones, and bloody noses.
I feel the need to clarify my seemingly unoriginal and cliche belief that “all bad things happen for a reason” or that art cannot be created without suffering. I believe an appropriate revision would be…
All events, mortifying and humorous, triumphant and gut-wrenching, can result in a lesson learned that benefits the recipient of life’s proverbial dealing of cards. However, one’s abstinence to playing their hand and the rash decision to flip the poker table in anger and frustration only makes possible two things: stagnation and regression in its aftermath.
This is obviously less concise, but what can the seven-word phrases, all tirelessly beaten to death within our daily lexicons, really identify about the infinite nuances of being human? Life may push us in every direction, but our resistance to being moved steals the ability to explore the expanse of opportunity– to strengthen one’s personal identity that arrives in the wake of adversity.
The act of creating and the zeal for advancing our own minds draw nearer the connection to our most abstract selves. The ability to move, to think, and to discover is to be completely unique, as well as quintessentially similar to all fellow humans. Isn’t that the ultimate objective of creativity– to become more human?
Some believe that creativity is the closest we come to transcending humanity and the groundling misfortunes of being mortal. Within a theological standpoint, the existence of the universe began with an act of divine creation. Biblically, the fall of man into permanent imperfection began with the desire to consume (the forbidden fruit), which is arguably the antithesis of creativity.
However, it is my opinion that this act of consumption was not purely driven by exploitative or primal desires. In addition to what one might call “sin”, an exceedingly important explanation for this crucial disobedience arises from curiosity. Curiosity, or the need to explore and interpret the universe, is also a quintessential human trait. As mentioned before, the act of experiencing, observing, listening, touching, and feeling is what breeds the capacity for creativity.
Reiterating the theological context for our interpretation of creativity, I believe that the flame of inventiveness could not glow as it does without an initial separation from all that is divine and perfect. Reflecting on the innate flaws of our humanity, our separation from all this is divine is to provide oxygen to a rising flame. If our curiosity and subsequent creative interpretations of experience make us unholy, then I don’t want to be divine.
The excitement of exploration is one of my favorite parts of existing. I have the pleasurable certainty that I will never be finished in my journey in adapting and edifying my true identity, as I will be incomplete until I am laid in the ground. Subsequently, exploring this “incomplete” wisdom is to join together all parts of my own soul.
Whether we draw the desire to create from a mortal or divine sensibility, we must ignite that drive from our participation in being human.
