I’ve been coping with a powerful urge to create something since the start of 2012 (I know that’s only about 10 days, but the urgency of the impulse is more powerful than ever before). I’d define this feeling as inspiration if I weren’t 23 and feeling the pressures of starting a career, making some serious commitments, and generally becoming an “adult” (something that will seemingly elude me for quite some time). The term “coping” is the best way I can articulate what I’m feeling, because I’m engaging in a kind of inspiration management that seems necessary to keep my feet on the ground.
I’m watching a documentary right now called Beautiful Losers which focuses on artists and creative personalities. It delves into their motivations, compulsions, and distinctive voices. One quote near the beginning of the film prompted me to open up my WordPress dashboard and begin typing this very post. I guess I just felt the need to “deal with it” by seeing it written down. Here it is:
“I think that nerds, who are the dispossessed, do sort of inherit the creative earth. You know what I mean? If you’re not dispossessed, why make art? If you’re not feeling pretty rejected on a lot of stuff, you’d probably feel more content and not need to save your life making something.”
-Mike Mills
I should point out that Mike Mills directed Beginners, a 2011 film that I found extremely sincere and lovingly crafted. This may or may not be why I’m gravitating toward his views on being artistic, but I think his quote is thought-provoking either way.
That idea really stuck with me – the need to save your life by making something. There are a lot of other interesting ideas presented throughout the film, like being brave by being funny and choosing to not see life as a list of problems. By no means do I identify with all the artists in the film, and I think it might still be a stretch to even define myself as an artist or a creative personality. In any case, those ideas are powerful, and they got me thinking about why I’m doing the things I’ve been doing lately. 2011 seemed to by my year of starting to feel “dispossessed” and “rejected” as Mike Mills explains in that quote. I’ve been looking for something for about eight months now. I have no idea what it is, and I’ve exhausted quite a few avenues trying to figure that out. It all feels necessary, though, and I know that I’m growing precisely because of each little failure and embarrassment. It hasn’t all been heartache, though, because I’ve also felt strangely liberated and even a little authoritative ever since I’ve been tasked with mapping out the rest of my life. The need to be creative has pushed itself to the top of my priority list, though, and after a lot of trial and error I’ve learned that this particular inclination is something I’ll absolutely need to pursue to survive. Dramatic, but accurate.
I’m not talking about changing the world or engaging in some kind of grand experiment. It’s more about being courageous enough to get creative and put something out there. It’s also about being content with exactly how that all fits into what needs to be a real, meaningful life – you know, with people and accomplishments and all that stuff you (fondly) ramble on about when you get older. Beautiful Losers focuses on creativity as a by-product of not caring about all those things on the giant to-do list life puts in front of you. That goes directly against my practical, common-sense nature, but I understand the idea of living your life that way in order to be a part of something special. Every time I think about committing to a particular career path or investing in conventional means of bettering myself (your standard online programs, resume-friendly certifications, and volunteer opportunities), I just think about all the things I should be spending my time doing purely because I want to. I’m a giant hypocrite, though, because there are days when I’m completely free of any obligations or pressures and all I do is the most deliberate kind of nothing. I’m talking about the kind of nothing where you suddenly have a huge to-watch list and a date with Netflix. It’s the kind of nothing that gives you time to “brainstorm” for your next great idea that isn’t coming because you’re really just stalling until something real terrifies you enough to make a change.
This back and forth has defined the last eight months of my life, and I’m wondering if it’s possible that I feel dispossessed and rejected by both the real, “Oh cruel world” side of my life and and the head-in-the-clouds “Oh, wonderful world” side of my life. I’m constantly thrown between wanting a solid 9 to 5 job and feeling the need to lock myself away and create the most beautiful piece of art anyone’s ever seen/read/watched/listened to (?). Nothing ever comes of either desire, but don’t take that to mean that I’ve become disillusioned. Definitely don’t take it to mean that I’ve given up. Rather, take it as an admission of my existence in-between practical and creative existences that both seem to be quite inhospitable right now. What does that mean, exactly? Well, about two months ago, it meant taking a part-time seasonal retail job and participating in National Novel Writing Month. Those are two things that immediately wanted to go steady with me. There was no threat of rejection and no chance of someone telling me I couldn’t have either thing. Those two things were safe, and that’s exactly why they drove me crazy.
The part-time retail job drove me crazy because I just didn’t need it in any way shape, or form. I wasn’t gaining experience and I wasn’t growing professionally. I would stand around for entire shifts thinking about all the great things I was going to do (or start to do) once I got home and then I’d just be so tired when I actually got home that I’d just sleep off my inspiration until I once again found myself decked out in a polo shirt and khakis wanting to do something great. I know that I sound like an ungrateful jerk, and I know that a job is a job is a job. Yes, there was money involved, but only the kind of money that’s meaningful when you’re not thinking about how exactly you’re going to become self-sustaining (Hell, I thought that by 23 none of this would even be as issue. Take that, high school and early college Nick!) Maybe I’m just not as realistic or practical as I like to think I am, but then again maybe I’m too realistic and practical for my own good. I could just feel time slipping away, along with my supposed potential (and yes that’s totally my fault for not realizing what college was when I had it). I mean, it’s all spilled milk, really. I don’t really think about any of it until moments like this, when something like that Mike Mills quote gets my wheels turning.
National Novel Writing Month is extremely cool and I’m really glad I did it. I can tell that some amazing creative personalities participate, and I love the very existence of such an opportunity to feel like you’re part of a creative community. The only thing that let me down about that experience was my own expectations. I let myself run with the foolish notion that I was launching something spectacular. I think I was actually belittling what it means to do something truly creative and I was trying to fast-track some catharsis. I mean, my chosen subject for those 30 days was my own life. Looking back, I feel like I was squandering a wonderful opportunity to tap into the creative wells of my mind and instead using that time to sketch out a recap of my life. I think I was just trying to see what I really looked like (on the inside) right before I turned 23. I was certainly writing more, and I was writing consistently. That month was indeed a creative adventure, and when I had my little autobiographical story going along with my part-time job I thought life was finally smooth sailing. Feel free to laugh at that, because it’s slightly ridiculous. Believe it or not, though, those two small accomplishments comprised my “in-between” world that kept me really content for all of about a month.
I can’t do things just to do them. It’s as simple as that. I want to do something with meaning. I want to help people. I want to capitalize on the relationships in my life. I want to do all the cheesy things that people say they want to do every time a new year starts. All kinds of things I formerly found silly and trivial are now highly intriguing, including the most trivial of trivial things Facebook. I’ve been getting in touch with people and spreading ideas for different projects just because…why not? I know I’m young and I know that your life starts at 23 and all that, but why make that an excuse for waiting to do something cool? Based on Mike Mills’ logic, I should maximize my feelings of rejection and spin them into some emotionally charged art. Art is also collaborative, as far as I’ve come to understand it, and sharing my thoughts and ideas with the people I care about is suddenly the most important thing in my life. In the process, I guess I’m also getting some networking done, so the practical side of me is happy as well.
About three weeks ago I finally discovered The Guild, and I also discovered the creative and industry-savvy powerhouse that is Felicia Day. I almost went to see her keynote presentation at the SXSW 2011 Interactive festival, and maybe if I did I would have been feeling a lot of things I’m feeling now back in March of last year. Basically, Felicia Day has found a way to go out there and create opportunities for herself in an industry that makes forging a career path extremely difficult. She went to the University of Texas (Hook ‘Em!) and then she moved out to L.A. to become an actress. She’s wonderfully humble about admitting that she’s extremely lucky. She landed gigs on Buffy and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, and generally did some amazing work with Joss Whedon. She’s also been on shows like House and Eureka, and a bunch of other things that have exposed a fairly large amount of people to her nerd-friendly charms. I’m not going to box her in as a “nerdy girl who’s so different from other actresses,” though, because she just is who she is. I don’t think glorifying her simply because she has an atypical image is appropriate, because she’s just a cool, talented person who’s making it on her own and being creative all the time. The Guild is a passion project that capitalizes on Felicia Day’s passions for online gaming and creating stuff with her friends. It’s an awesome experiment in new media, storytelling, and getting people involved in creative projects who may not necessarily have the benefit of going through conventional channels to get their voices heard.
I’m pretty cynical when it comes to the way creativity and business collide in many industries today, and hearing a success story from someone like Felicia Day is exactly what I need right now. It’s appropriate that she came to SXSW in Austin, because both that festival and that city foster that kind of creative, do-it-yourself spirit. It does lead to good old-fashioned success, too, because after all of her hard work, Day negotiated a deal with Microsoft. That wasn’t the only deal to come across her figurative desk, either. She now works on stuff similar to The Guild full-time, simply because the people with the financial resources to make things like that happen have seen how she can inspire and entertain a different kind of audience. The point of all this is that we live in a world where a story like this can play out. Even though I feel rejected and dispossessed and all of that other stuff that Mike Mills made me realize, I also feel empowered and confident to put my ideas forward because of Felicia Day. It took those two conflicting mentalities to make me feel like it’s time to start something new and important.
Now I’m watching the fantastic BBC series Sherlock, and the title character just told Watson to stop inflicting his opinions upon the world via his blog. I’ll cap this rant right here, mostly because I don’t want to miss the show but also because that might be some good advice. Maybe today is one of those “deliberate kind of nothing,” Netflix-filled days after all. Back and forth I go, but that nagging feeling that I need to get creative isn’t going anywhere.
Originally posted on my old blog, Nick vs. the Blog · More from my writing archive