What goes first for me now days is patience. They say the mind does. Sometimes the hair. Continence even. I didn’t expect this. This swelling impatience for those with heads up bums and in sand. But here I am, my Father’s daughter, about to unload on yet another unsuspecting dumb dink.
This is about no one dink in particular, just a common whimpering I hear among artists. Plus, any time I get to use the words “dumb” and “dink” in a sentence, I publicly honour my niche upbringing.
One of my greatest hopes for you as a human, regardless of where you are in your life, is to not get stuck in thinking you are what you is. In your own stubborn head. Where you’ve placed ideas, or ideas have been placed for you, that for some godforsaken reason believe you must adhere to. Til the end of days.
This is what set me off. I’ve heard it before and i’ll likely hear it again. “I can’t do that because I’m a creative.”
There’s a great arguement to be had against being one or the other. Being a creative, or, someone who uses the thinky part of their brain. The smart side. The linear left. I honestly don’t think you can do traditionally non-creative things well without some creative input. And I’m not talking about writing off mascara because you had auditions.
We as creatives need to be kind to ourselves. To respect these magical components of our being by not putting the entire weight of our lives onto their soft shoulders. Just because we are primarily steered by passion and colour and words doesn’t mean that we’re towing around the other side of our brain like a dead deer. It’s there and it’s meant to be used.
Look at all the right brained hippies on Etsy that figured out how to log on and showcase their art. Bravo you guys! I’m guessing that didn’t come easily for some of you but you tried and figured it out. Hemp hats off to you.
Creativity for me is partly this. Finding what’s intriguing in things that you likely are required to do as an adult. Some brilliant hard working creatives call these things “adulting” which I love. And then you do those things. Using creativity as an excuse for not being a grown up is abusive. Why would you do that to something you love? To dishonour it by using it as an out.
I’m a believer in doing all the things that interest or challenge me. #AllTheThings I’ve been that person, way back in my 20’s, that played the “Help me I’m a creative” card. Giggle. Hair twirl. Eyelash bat. Until someone offered to just do it for me. Barf. I hate that me and although she will surface every once in a while, new me kicks her ass and gets on with my beautiful and interesting life.
The older I get, the more I start sentences like this. Seriously though, the older I get, the less tolerance I have for people that settle. That talk themselves out of trying. That just wait, and expect, and don’t respect the skin that has to come off your knuckles to be good at anything. Creative or not.
If you’re not good at something, I fucking dare you to try to be one tiny smidge better at that thing just once. Leading with “I can’t because…” is your biggest weakness. Not your age. Not your weight. Not your education. Not your burdens. Not your missed opportunities. Not because someone else got what you felt was rightfully yours. Not because you’re just a creative.
This may be stuff you’ve heard before but perhaps without swears and some jokey bits. See what I did there? Wrapped a lesson about not being a lazy entitled shit in humour. That’s my new jam.
I don’t care what you do. Except try. Not ever trying but continuing to be a victim of your creativity is an insult to mine. Not knowing how to do something has become an invitation now. Not a booming “Thou shalt not pass!” Catch up. You know what Google is right?
Yes. When you make up a bullshit excuse you are being creative. Good for you. What you’re missing there is being honest. Which is, I guess, the bone I needed to pick. Being honest about why you keep throwing creativity under the bus like it’s done you such harm. Instead of being this marvellous spark that frolics around inside you waiting to be unleashed a thousand times over in a million different ways.
I guess what bothers me the most, and where my patience wears thin, is the whole “I’m just a creative so I can’t do this hard thing” smacks of 1950’s style lady thinking. That meek, compliant woman who was taught she was good for only a handfull of assigned duties. Up yours with a bag of whores! I don’t know what that means! Creativity doesn’t always make the sense. But get to work!
Seriously. Enough already. End of bone.