The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.
—Pearl S. Buck, novelist, Nobel laureate (1892-1973)
Unfortunately, I've got the “abnormally, inhumanly sensitive” part down cold (he says, flattering the hell out of himself with absolutely no justification). The problem is that the whole “creation” part of the equation really only applies in my case to pro-creation. Which just isn’t the boon to the wallet that just plain ol’ creating is, or can be. In fact, experience has taught me it’s just the opposite, generally speaking.
But then, on the other hand, you get this. And that’s a pretty decent trade-off.
When I was in college, a friend of mine was battling serious depression. I shared my friend's depression, to a degree, because we both saw in the world such a huge amount of sadness, horror, poverty, hunger ... heartbreaking things that wrenched hearts and souls. His psychiatrist told him he needed to "stop caring so much about everything." I remember deciding that I'd take depression, thank you.
My conversion has certainly put a different spin on my worldview, but God forbid the day that I stop caring.
I'm not so gifted in the "creative" dept. but ... yeah, those little bundles are a pretty great trade-off for anything, and quite the anti-depressant, too.
Posted by: Karen E. | Tuesday, August 15, 2006 at 06:46 AM