How Do You Fill Your Creative Tank?
Being creative can be draining, don’t you think? The constant need to make something, write something, draw something—it depletes the essence of the human spirit, THE required ingredient for creativity.
I read an interview with Joss Whedon, the writer/director/producer/composer/actor/comic book artist. (Sheesh. Just typing all that made me tired.)
I recently saw his take on “Much Ado About Nothing,”—a movie I enthusiastically recommend, by the way—but I read the interview because of his discussion of creativity. (To read the full interview, click here.) For much of his career, he has been a prolific creator. Always inspired. Ever making. Constantly birthing new works across multiple media.
In the article, he cited the need—painful, insistent—to fill his creative tank. When he goes to a new place, he gorges on museum exhibits. Oddball performances. Out-of-the-way things he cannot see at home. The more he thinks he won’t like something, the more compelled he feels to take it in. He didn’t call it this, but it’s an Orgy of Creative Consumption.
It got me thinking about my own creative process.
I’ve written 1,325 posts on this blog since February 2010. Occasionally, I repost. When I feel like I simply cannot write anything productive—you know, those days where I just want to shriek that the whole world sucks—I ask MTM to step in for me. But mostly, I come up with the ideas. I execute them. And, I throw them up here to crash or to fly. (On top of writing two novels and several short stories off-the-blog.)
Which means an almost-constant need to fill my creative tank.
Over the past three years, I have often felt guilty about my creative neediness. I make no money writing, after all. The business-trained part of my brain (that damn left side……….I never should’ve activated it with an accounting degree), it screeches phrases like “in the red” and “revenue – expenses SHOULD NOT = (xx,xxx)” and “the best investments yield positive returns.”
I’ve been ignoring that whiney harridan a lot lately. I don’t like her very much. In fact, in the coming days, I hope to show just how much I’ve given her the finger.
Until my creative tank needs a refill.
But before I recount my recent Orgy of Creative Consumption, I’d like to hear about you, Dear Reader.