On being creative
Do you know my soul?
What is it that drives some of us to create? To write, to paint, to draw, to sculpt? What force in us is so great that it must transmit itself through our very fingertips onto paper or into clay? Are artists and writers more in touch with their own feelings, or is it a special connection to something greater than the sum of us? Why is it if we deny this force we become ill and feel lost, empty and adrift? What is it that makes us seek out other kindered spirits to be in company with others who understand the magic?
Art has been a very powerful force in my life for as long as I can remember. I even smell in colour..and music takes on many hues in my mind's eye. I can create something out of nothing. Many times I surprise myself with the results. It seems that when I am really in tune with my soul that my work takes on a life of its own. I enter the 'zone' where conversation and ordinary every day matters and cares evaporate. My hand moves of its own accord. My work astonishes me as I often do not know where it is going and ultimately what it shall become. Why this curve here or this colour there? What is the science behind it? How does my mind find a balance when I am not conciously looking for one? I am mystified.
My most powerful work comes from times of distress or from feelings of love. Love and anguish both move the soul. The strong, deep eyes of an elderly woman who I admired greatly the weeping Madonna of loss so great it still makes me cry. Bits of my soul are poured out on to paper - trapped in amber and preserved for all to see and perhaps understand.
Without this release I would surely die. It is why birds sing and why oceans crash. Because they must. It is the essense. The essense of myself and of the universe. It is a gift. A blessing and a curse.