Creativity for me has always been something of a bugaboo. I’m not speaking about out-of-the-box thinking – that’s par for the course and I’m surprised as often as I surprise there. I certainly don’t have all the answers but at least my questions lead to more interesting answers. Even if they’re sometimes the uncomfortable questions no one wants to ask.
The creativity I’m talking about is just that – the power to create. Some apply flame to metal and come out with some amazing sculptures. Others pen to paper and viola – art. I am at best a poor, squinty eyed sketch artist. My forte has always been writing and it has taken a lot of effort – and practice – separating academic, professional and my tendency to want to be a creative writing in everything I do.
I didn’t take it as challenge or a game. But I asked questions – lots of questions. And I asked for comments – pulled them like teeth if I had to. Until I slowly, iteratively got my styles into place. While I’ll readily admit I tend to want to fall back to creative writing and flowery turns of phrase I can at least catch myself doing it and correct it before a final draft. Thankfully, at least according to my critics, I’ve been able to maintain an engaging style even as I drive to further succinctness.
But what is it about creativity that makes it so confoundedly elusive. Yes, its work, whole frames don’t just pop into head. You chew on it with your brain-teeth. You gnash and snap at it. Then when you stop thinking about it completely – pop – it’s in your head. The subconscious kept working on it.
I wonder, is that how creativity is for everyone.