January 22, 2011 Comments Off on Slops
I feel in my bones that I’m a creative person, but none of my efforts in any field so far have been very good. Sometimes it feels like creativity rises and sloshes out of me, and I have to try to catch it in ad hoc buckets. I have tried the drawing bucket, the fiction bucket, the poetry bucket, and the music bucket, but very little of what I’ve done is as impressive as the raw creativity that caused them. It seems wrong to treat it this way…it seems like what rises up should be fiction creativity or music creativity, not some embryonic, nebulous, all-purpose creativity. It would be stronger, and the products would be better, if it lay firmly in one camp or another. Sometimes I think I don’t do well because I’m trying to spread what creativity I have too thin, over multiple disciplines, and at the same time I’m greedy to try different things. I want to learn to draw, and paint, and sculpt, and build. But why should I, and when will I have time, when I’m constantly trying to squeeze Barbara Kingsolver or Samuel Barber out of the thin, cold gruel of my creativity? And how hard do I have to try before I should decide to stop? I have nothing but contempt for artists who think they’re great when they’re not, and my terror is becoming one of these, but I don’t know where the lines are, and I don’t know whether mediocrity is a continuum or whether, unless you’re at a certain level of genius, you’re simply not allowed to try without being mocked. I’ll settle for producing things I’m satisfied with, but if that doesn’t start happening soon I’m afraid my at once feeble and unusable creativity will swell my brain like a blister and eventually burst, and then I will be an unhinged cretin who needs to be locked up for her own good. And where will you be then, without a blog to read?