Finding Inspiration Beyond The Obvious

The art I create is a manifestation of the insecurities I choose to show; in a controlled, mildly removed, sufferingly beautiful, “more-over-it-than-I-am” kind of way. I could make art from a healed position, but I cannot deny the raw process of digging deeper, as the darkness unfolds, to be the most effective for creation. As ever changing as my experience may be, I weave my current self into what I make. My biggest inspiration comes from the things I cannot hold, love, or keep. Loss inspires me, because how else can I appreciate the fleeting?

The following excerpt is from a poem I wrote about a recent fleeting exchange:

“Even if I am aware of my nativity, 

That does not shield me from own immaturity,

As the openness I feel in my chest,

Can only be filled by the possibilities of the world.

You had to leave, 

Because the only evidence we have of something is how it makes us feel. 

This is how we believe. 

Yet, this is not how we accept.

Now, I cannot stop the days that must happen.

A falling knife has no handle,

It must hit the floor – in order to realize the ground never left.

When I have tried to interfere, 

It slowed the falling by passing through my desperate hand, 

But I cannot stop the days that must happen. 

At least,

I’ve learned it was not the knife that severed the last link of who I was to myself.

I have always felt this way.”

This experience has created lots of artistic introspection, emotional turmoil, and art allowed me to document how I truly felt during this time. This is an important process. Using art as a tool to figure out how you feel about something is what it’s there for. However, using solely your suffering to create art, can be limiting to not only your artistic potential, but your growth. 

Self-indulgence is one of my favorite past times, but it can get me stuck. I’m currently living alone, and if I write one more poem about loss, the next thing I lose will be my mind. As artists, we should kindly encourage ourselves to find inspiration beyond the obvious – pain. Not all art has to hurt. We don’t have to poke at an open wound with a paintbrush. It’s okay to focus outside of ourselves while we heal. 

I’m learning what it means to live for myself; letting things hurt, and letting them go without the need to perform it prematurely. I no longer feel the need to justify everything I do, because I know myself less than I ever have. While that is extremely daunting, I’m excited to meet myself again. 

I’ve begun meeting myself by going to jazz clubs alone. I’m meeting myself by eating peanut butter dipped in plain cheerios. I’m meeting myself by letting my hair grow naturally without burning it straight. I’m meeting myself by meeting others. I’m meeting myself by no longer making myself into what I’m not ready to be. I imagine the day I finally meet myself, and I shake her hand, that she will thank me for not only searching for inspiration in suffering, but finding appreciation in what I’ve always had – light. And when she walks away, and I have to wait to meet her again, I will move through the world with light, and let it shine through my face. 

My art may be a manifestation of my insecurities, but they are what make me shine. They are the catalyst of change.