When I Forget That I Am a Creative…

…I mean like those people who are analyzed all over the web, I feel horrible. I feel like I do not operate at the same level as so many people. Words don’t come. Sentences are forced. But only when I forget that I am creative. Then, this happens. Words flow. It comes an goes at random times…like at work.Words flow. I have to write down the emotion. I misspell things in the process. It does not really matter anyway. Who has time for a dictionary? Long hand, blog posts are written and forgotten. When I forget I am a creative, I get bored. When I get bored, I doodle. In the meaningless doodle, I find it. I find my creative side. During the unexpected, creativity flows and seems like it will never be able to be translated into typed form. Or can it? Can it ever show that I am losing room on the paper? Or does the scroll eliminate that possibility?

It is too easy to erase things while blogging.  When writing on paper, you see the mistakes. The wrong words. The do-overs. The blog just seems so polished compared to the draft. Ever word has potential. When writing on paper, the page is blank but running out. These little creative moments. They help me forget about the conformity of everyday. Rules of writing, when learned, can be broken for something more than the sum of the parts. Some molds can not be broken. Sometimes, you have to pretend. Not in writing. Not when being authentic. Being authentic brings the pain with the healing. I forget that being authentic means showing the scars…something I don’t really do. I hide behind a band-aid. Literally. Not metaphorically. In acting, I was taught that the most meaningful performance does not come from creating the moment from scratch. The best acting comes from a place of memory.

The conformity of everyday. It bores. I forget while I hide behind my mask. The smiley, machine-like  mask of conformity. Then, that little voice tells me that I am the same as any other person. There is nothing special about me. I feel like Sherlock is in my brain saying:

BBC's Sherlock

BBC’s Sherlock

while Catherine Tate is all like:

And, all I can do is freeze. All I can do is force myself to forget that I am creative. To pretend that I am not special to fit in. To pretend that all of the creative things are bad and just to accept conformity.

But, I cannot fit in. In not even trying, I do not fit in. I notice things. And others might too. I realize that I may not make a significant difference to people all over the world with my way of thinking. Yet, I might inspire somebody. That might be it. One person. I might let them realize that they are a creative too. That being a creative is not something set in stone from the time of birth. It is hard work to spontaneously start a project.  Habits have to be formed. It also takes a lot of forgetting. To forget critics. To forget norms of behavior. Yet, to remember. To remember a time that being creative was not hard. Where it was okay for things to be out of place. To remember that sentence fragments are not the end of the world. That everyone is human.

There is no real wrap-up. I just wanted to write in the manner of stream-of-consciousness. That was the best way to get some thoughts out.

Marginalia

dsmeek36

dsmeek36’s Photobucket

During the past semester, I was taking two classes in which I had the identical thought. The classes were “Media History” and “History of Britain until 1688.” The question came to mind while I was learning about the printing press and how printing has never been the same. The question is: Does the habit of not writing in books come from books being valuable? At one time, books were a prize commodity. Monks had to transcribe every word that was in a book. The amount of work was too great. Even after the printing press, people still valued books. They were still only owned by those in the high to middle classes. Now, books are available in all forms. E-readers have opened up a new world that compliments the book. Especially with the Kindle, note-taking is easy. Yet still the debate remains. I did not even know how big of an issue this was.

Recently, I opened my copy of As You Like It. I was a senior in high school, and was reading it for a project. To engage active reading, I started underlining things and writing plot summery above the page. I even wrote a note about something that had nothing to do with the play in the book. I used the back couple of pages as an outline for my paper. It was wonderful. This has seemed to escalated. A couple of years ago, I took a class on Shakespeare and underlined passages from the different plays that seemed to be gorgeous. The nest semester, I took a class on the Inklings. In one of my books for the class, I had a book that was highlighted in. Instead of fainting at the sight of the colors, I joined in with my own notes. In addition to that, I underlined passages from a book called The Mind of the Maker. The concepts of the books amazed me while I was reading. In another class for the last semester, I did not buy a majority of my books but borrowed them from the library. I felt the inevitable urge to write in the books and underline passages. I bought a legal pad to keep up with all of the amazing talent. Eventually, I bought a couple of the books which are now highlighted and maybe annotated.

I am not saying that I have not judged before. During that last class, I borrowed a copy of The English Patient from the college next door. During the first half of the book, I was reading along when someone had highlighted an entire paragraph of text. My first reaction was shock. I have highlighted in my own books of course, but I had never touched a library book in that way. Yet in reading the quote, I was amazed. It was a brilliant quote. The point of highlighting in a book is not only to remember the quote. It is also to show others the importance of the quote since the eye is drawn to color. This does not mean that I advocate for the writing and drawing in library books.  I do advocate to give it a try. I you do not take my word for it at least take Billy Collins‘ opinion.