I write stories to relax.
My friends tease me about it, all the time. What sane person carries a laptop on vacation? Sigh* But the fact is: When I feel my body about to shut down, I turn to stories – either reading them, creating them, or writing them.
Writing stories about things that may not necessarily exist means that I constantly live in a dream. Or so I am told. Because I get lost – eyes staring but into another world; a world where characters become real, as real as the person next to me. I have had stories become published books and stories made into films people have watched. I have had stories earn me little awards and stories that got me in the presence of a few of the world’s most creative writers. And although others share in these stories and interpret them, it is never the same as how I created them the first time.
Creating things has got to be one of the most fulfilling feelings ever. Think of it like LEGO. You get blocks, and what you are doing is putting them all together to become a nice something. Beyond the feeling, creativity helps me in my marketing and communications job. I can put myself in the shoes of the people I need to convince to get my product – how do they feel now? What would make them feel better? What if we tried something different?
Creativity also means there is no such thing as failure in my book. There is only trial and error, and to me, that error is one less way of getting stuff done right. I learnt a long time ago to go all out with my curiosity; to try things no matter what it costs, and that it is okay if the things I try do not work out. It is just one less door I have to open.
On to the next, please!
It opens doors to think widely, to see solutions to problems in the hardest situations. I joke a lot with my best friend that if we were ever shipwrecked, I would likely be a better candidate to be stuck on an island with. Thinking widely means I tend to read a lot of unrelated things like psychology, historical stories, and sci-fi (of which, by the way, who else enjoys reading books by Michael Crichton as I do??!!), and I have apps like Quora, Pocket and Evernote as first apps to download on a new phone. If my bookshelf could talk, it would ask me: Excuse me please, what exactly is the focus here?
About people, creativity helps me appreciate them, their nuances, their history. Because each of us carries around our little bag filled with habits carefully crafted over the years, and we react to situations based on suppressed memories from our childhood, unconsciously so. It is easier for me to understand and appreciate because in telling moments, I imagine what is inside the bag we carry around.
My creativity has its low points though – Firstly, it is a lonely road. Lonely because you alone are in that world, and except I write it down, the next person cannot partake in that world. Most times, it is just you, your characters and your laptop, in the dark. And when inspiration strikes you at odd moments, such as in the middle of a really nice date, then your little notebook becomes your paddy of life.
Creativity can drain you if you do not watch it. I know it drains me sometimes. I tend to get really invested in things – really, really invested. And what it means is that I do not let go until it’s perfect, which takes a toll on my health – which means I get more migraines than perhaps I ought ever to get. But other creatives get these too, so I have learnt to work around these.
It also means that I tend to be vulnerable to my work’s appreciation, and I struggle with negative feedback. If I receive criticism, I hardly show my emotions when receiving it; it is in those alone moments when my thoughts sit beside me watching me carefully and waiting for me to react, that I unleash their sting. It is in those times that I struggle with self-worth, and thankfully, wake up the next morning to fight again. Because I have had to deal with this all my life, I have learnt not to stay too long with my back on the ground.
Life does not have time for pity parties.
My life as a creative is dreamy. If you could paint that life, it would be filled with white spaces and soft pastel colours with the occasional bursts of red here and there. You could never tell from the blasé mask on my face half of the time, but creativity is my own cocoon. It has got my back anytime and every time.
I hope all other creatives feel the same way – that indeed, our lives rock.
You don’t know the half of it!
