Creativity as an expression of survivorship
Something unexpected came out of the long period of quiet that imposed itself upon me during my treatments and for the many months following. As a result of everything being taken away, time and space entered in bringing with it an opportunity that I hadn’t anticipated — creativity.
Creative time is not something we often allow when most of our schedule is committed to others or to our work. (unless you work in a creative field). In the absence of work obligations something more interesting took its place and I’m now happily exploring these avenues of expression.
What I enjoy most about this new space and creativity is that I can focus my energy and attention to things that mean more to me and represent an outpouring of what is inspiring and useful and productive. I’ve been particularly inspired by the reflections of a fellow patient who has written about the creative process coming from the darkest places in our lives. She shared,
“The darkest things can be happening, and you can see them, but there’s no reason not to feel joy and to know your soul. Surviving in itself requires creativity. Joy can come from the very act of where you’re coming from. Transform from it.”
What inspires me to create or to write?
Usually it’s something I’ve read or seen that suddenly grabs my attention and sends me thinking in a different way. Or something that evokes an emotion or memory that rises up creating a purely emotional response.
There’s no particular time when inspiration strikes. I’ve been in the midst of a car ride, walking along the street, in the middle of a book or a concert and suddenly there it is! The little thing that flies along and buzzes in my ear. I try to capture it before it’s gone, because creative responses often do flit in and then disappear. My one regret is if I’m in the middle of something and can’t catch the feeling or idea quickly enough. Those missed chances to grab up the brilliant emotional clarification or feeling, full thoughts or paragraphs of expression that flow up and out as quickly as they’ve arrived. We’d like to think we’ll remember what they were and how it struck us at that moment, but just as quickly, the feeling is lost. Like a dream where you have sudden clarity and understanding in your mind, but once you’ve woken up the spell is broken. My best advice, carry a small notebook and pen at all times and try to be discreet about taking notes. :-)
When I’m working with paper, it’s a little different. Usually it’s a sudden compelling feeling to create and so I do. Depending upon what I’m working with (paint, paper, collage, stencil, Gelli printing…) the color and texture defines itself at the outset and each of the items I’ve created is different based on my mood or the day.
In building the mixed media collages, they become the basis of inspiration for what I’ll do next with them. It’s a zen exercise as I gather the materials and sort them out, deciding on colors and texture or visual elements. It’s an undefined process really and I’ve sometimes found myself puttering around with paper pieces in my work space when I was really intending to be in the basement doing laundry! It just happens.
The collage pieces aren’t intended to be seen or shared when completed, although sometimes I end up giving them away if they make someone happy. Usually they’re broken down into the pieces that become the Wellness Coins given out at the cancer center or passed along to friends. Or as bookmarks and journals. Any scraps or leftover pieces are saved for inclusion to the next thing I might create. It’s a regenerative process, much like my life now, and has a full circle element about it. I’ve met strangers who contacted me because of the medallions left at the hospital and those who received them as a gift.
In creating and giving away, there is a human element of touching others when they needed to be uplifted and this makes it feel like this is exactly the right thing for me to be doing.
