~~ muses, madness, writing and so on.
Apr. 8th, 2004 07:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaBy default, it seems, people think about either themselves or other people: in first person, basically. Their world starts with "I" and expands outwards by a network of connections like "you" and "them" and "us". This makes perfect sense, of course, 'cause human beings have to survive in the day-to-day struggles of existence even now-- they have to feed and clothe and shelter themselves. Even the inexperienced writer is well-known for initially writing instinctively in the first person.
I suppose there is a reason they call them "starving artists", though. It's like... being a writer/artist seems to define your very thought processes, the way you perceive the world, what you want and need out of existence. Your needs for companionship dwindle when your mind enters "the Zone", as one might call it. In the Zone, it's almost like you're largely a receptacle for thoughts and images that come from outside you, whether you're imagining them yourself or reading about things other people have imagined.
Perhaps this is a -type- of writer/artist-- I know not all are like that. Some are quite clear-headed and completely grounded, having no problems separating their writing tasks from their identity and the business of day-to-day living. I imagine their writer self is in the background if it's not currently in use through actual writing, and only manifests by flashes of inspiration that aren't that hard to ignore. This sort of writer/artist could probably hold down a regular job with no problem, having compartmentalized themselves successfully and stabilized their ego so that the possibly frightening experience of "inspiration" can be controlled and given structure. This sort of writer probably places a heavy emphasis on linear plot development in their stories and write them more or less from beginning to end.
I remember a number of writers expressing confusion and disbelief at the idea that one could have "muses". It does seem a bit crazy to refer to those sorts of things, doesn't it?
Thing is, I think at heart creativity isn't all that far from madness-- and this isn't a new or shocking idea by any means. Still, most people prefer to ignore it or joke about it, don't they. After all, it's harmless and controllable, most times, right-- for most people. It's a hobby. It's not dangerous. It's something a whole lot of people only do for fun. A number of people can easily stop voluntarily and not write whether by lack of desire or even by effort of will. The door between their conscious and unconscious (creative) mind is heavily guarded and regulated. But what of when it's not? What about the ones who can't stop, who're not in control of what they write or how or when? It seems to me that this is where all this talk of "muses" comes from.
It's especially evident, being a non-linear writer who doesn't know where the next burst of inspiration for a story is going to be coming from. It's rather disconcerting, not having a clue why one's written this piece or that piece of the eventual puzzle, and not knowing if this particular puzzle will ever be completed, even. Basically, a non-linear writer is doing things that lie outside the province of rationality, conscious awareness or, one might say, free will. The only choice here is to sit down to transcribe it, and even that is governed by rather strong, nearly physical urges.
It also seems that reading can be a similar process, at least to the mind of a subconscious writer. It fits into the need to think loosely, to float above oneself and see things theoretically, in alternate universes and myriad possibilities-- in other words, to dream. Writing and reading seem very connected to me, both of them a semi-wild creative process which takes one away from oneself, opening one up to the universe at large. Allowing one to escape. And this need to escape seems to be nearly hard-wired, as natural as breathing, as using language itself-- as natural as thinking, basically. In fact, the more you use thinking in this escapist (creative) way, the more it becomes much more natural than more conscious (self-conscious) forms.
In my particular experience, one doesn't really escape rationality or logic when one circumvents oneself this way. In fact, it seems that it is only when one's separated from one's conscious identity that the most rigorous thinking ability is activated-- freed, even. It's like the linearity of everyday self-centered logic becomes like a cage of some sort, and the free-floating speculation in using one's imagination becomes the natural, most comfortable state of consciousness. One acclimates to separating oneself from one's actual identity and at some point it becomes easier than actually fully retaining it. The creative process seems to act like a drug-induced (neurochemical) conditioning, which it may very well be, all things considered.
Everything beautiful has a price.
That's an old adage, but of course that makes it no less true. I feel like... my personal connection with the world comes and goes, but my connection with my imagination retains a certain level of strength that never wavers and only increases if I let it. And yet, in a sense, my imagination isn't exactly -mine-. I've always had a weird time fully understanding people who're very possessive of their artwork or writing for this reason. I can see why anyone's possessive of any sort of work they do, but to me art is different because it comes from outside one's conscious self to such a degree. In me, anyway. I suppose it's different if you consciously make it happen, maybe-- which is very possible, though it doesn't give me that neurochemical rush. It feels a lot like... work, basically. That's probably why editing my writing feels like a different process altogether to me, one that doesn't come naturally.
I'm not saying all writers or artists are freaks or insane or anything. I'm not saying most of them are or maybe even that some of them are-- all I'm saying is, going by some observation and a very large dose of personal experience, I'd say that my tendency to write and read and dream and my general difficulties in coping with "real life" and applying my own rational thinking to myself all seem related. What I can't decide is whether the creativity is a side-effect of some other process or it's the other way around-- whether any mental instability is a result of the chaos creative thought can wreak on some people's psyche. Or maybe it's just an unanswerable, circular argument.
I do think that using one's unbridled imagination feels a lot like an out-of-body experience, where one can observe and remember things, but not really participate. I think on some level this sort of thing can and does become addictive, and perhaps it exacerbates certain avoidant or dissociative tendencies already present in one's psyche. So then, different personalities would react to the addition of the creative impulse differently. Some writers may even control their entrance into the Zone to such an extent that they suffer virtually no disorientation upon leaving it, if indeed they ever fully enter it. Of course, I would guess these people are more journalists and manual writers than anything else, but hey. Those things are useful too.
Personally, I've been semi-stranded in the Zone for the past four months, though not very productively, alas.
I suppose there is a reason they call them "starving artists", though. It's like... being a writer/artist seems to define your very thought processes, the way you perceive the world, what you want and need out of existence. Your needs for companionship dwindle when your mind enters "the Zone", as one might call it. In the Zone, it's almost like you're largely a receptacle for thoughts and images that come from outside you, whether you're imagining them yourself or reading about things other people have imagined.
Perhaps this is a -type- of writer/artist-- I know not all are like that. Some are quite clear-headed and completely grounded, having no problems separating their writing tasks from their identity and the business of day-to-day living. I imagine their writer self is in the background if it's not currently in use through actual writing, and only manifests by flashes of inspiration that aren't that hard to ignore. This sort of writer/artist could probably hold down a regular job with no problem, having compartmentalized themselves successfully and stabilized their ego so that the possibly frightening experience of "inspiration" can be controlled and given structure. This sort of writer probably places a heavy emphasis on linear plot development in their stories and write them more or less from beginning to end.
I remember a number of writers expressing confusion and disbelief at the idea that one could have "muses". It does seem a bit crazy to refer to those sorts of things, doesn't it?
Thing is, I think at heart creativity isn't all that far from madness-- and this isn't a new or shocking idea by any means. Still, most people prefer to ignore it or joke about it, don't they. After all, it's harmless and controllable, most times, right-- for most people. It's a hobby. It's not dangerous. It's something a whole lot of people only do for fun. A number of people can easily stop voluntarily and not write whether by lack of desire or even by effort of will. The door between their conscious and unconscious (creative) mind is heavily guarded and regulated. But what of when it's not? What about the ones who can't stop, who're not in control of what they write or how or when? It seems to me that this is where all this talk of "muses" comes from.
It's especially evident, being a non-linear writer who doesn't know where the next burst of inspiration for a story is going to be coming from. It's rather disconcerting, not having a clue why one's written this piece or that piece of the eventual puzzle, and not knowing if this particular puzzle will ever be completed, even. Basically, a non-linear writer is doing things that lie outside the province of rationality, conscious awareness or, one might say, free will. The only choice here is to sit down to transcribe it, and even that is governed by rather strong, nearly physical urges.
It also seems that reading can be a similar process, at least to the mind of a subconscious writer. It fits into the need to think loosely, to float above oneself and see things theoretically, in alternate universes and myriad possibilities-- in other words, to dream. Writing and reading seem very connected to me, both of them a semi-wild creative process which takes one away from oneself, opening one up to the universe at large. Allowing one to escape. And this need to escape seems to be nearly hard-wired, as natural as breathing, as using language itself-- as natural as thinking, basically. In fact, the more you use thinking in this escapist (creative) way, the more it becomes much more natural than more conscious (self-conscious) forms.
In my particular experience, one doesn't really escape rationality or logic when one circumvents oneself this way. In fact, it seems that it is only when one's separated from one's conscious identity that the most rigorous thinking ability is activated-- freed, even. It's like the linearity of everyday self-centered logic becomes like a cage of some sort, and the free-floating speculation in using one's imagination becomes the natural, most comfortable state of consciousness. One acclimates to separating oneself from one's actual identity and at some point it becomes easier than actually fully retaining it. The creative process seems to act like a drug-induced (neurochemical) conditioning, which it may very well be, all things considered.
Everything beautiful has a price.
That's an old adage, but of course that makes it no less true. I feel like... my personal connection with the world comes and goes, but my connection with my imagination retains a certain level of strength that never wavers and only increases if I let it. And yet, in a sense, my imagination isn't exactly -mine-. I've always had a weird time fully understanding people who're very possessive of their artwork or writing for this reason. I can see why anyone's possessive of any sort of work they do, but to me art is different because it comes from outside one's conscious self to such a degree. In me, anyway. I suppose it's different if you consciously make it happen, maybe-- which is very possible, though it doesn't give me that neurochemical rush. It feels a lot like... work, basically. That's probably why editing my writing feels like a different process altogether to me, one that doesn't come naturally.
I'm not saying all writers or artists are freaks or insane or anything. I'm not saying most of them are or maybe even that some of them are-- all I'm saying is, going by some observation and a very large dose of personal experience, I'd say that my tendency to write and read and dream and my general difficulties in coping with "real life" and applying my own rational thinking to myself all seem related. What I can't decide is whether the creativity is a side-effect of some other process or it's the other way around-- whether any mental instability is a result of the chaos creative thought can wreak on some people's psyche. Or maybe it's just an unanswerable, circular argument.
I do think that using one's unbridled imagination feels a lot like an out-of-body experience, where one can observe and remember things, but not really participate. I think on some level this sort of thing can and does become addictive, and perhaps it exacerbates certain avoidant or dissociative tendencies already present in one's psyche. So then, different personalities would react to the addition of the creative impulse differently. Some writers may even control their entrance into the Zone to such an extent that they suffer virtually no disorientation upon leaving it, if indeed they ever fully enter it. Of course, I would guess these people are more journalists and manual writers than anything else, but hey. Those things are useful too.
Personally, I've been semi-stranded in the Zone for the past four months, though not very productively, alas.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-08 07:39 pm (UTC)Having a deadline is like what I need to get stuff done. I mean, I've managed it on my own but it's way harder. I'll be all excited to go home and work and then I'll putter around and get distracted and have to read The New Yorker and answer lj comments like this one and then that's it. So I'll look forward to working on it at lunch and then when I'm faced with it that's when I'll catch up on everything in my inbox I put off while I was dreaming about the story in my head.
The sad thing is when I actually write something I feel GREAT! So accomplished, so on my way. But the first time I slack off after that I'm back where I started!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-08 11:07 pm (UTC)Having a deadline really helps me sometimes too, yeah. Gives me the structure I really need, gives me an outside reason to push myself. Or really, just let other people push me, that's easier. I mean, I'm almost always -late-, but at least I do it at all.
I totally know what you mean about slacking off-- I mean, even if I've gotten on a roll with a long fic, I can't take a breather, 'cause as soon as the momentum's lost, it's just... lost. Back to square one, except now it's even more intimidating 'cause now there's the rest of the written fic to live up to, and what if I -suck- now, and what if I can't be as good as I'd been before, and what if the whole idea is STUPID, and, and, and....
So yeah :>
no subject
Date: 2004-04-08 07:59 pm (UTC)"I can see why anyone's possessive of any sort of work they do, but to me art is different because it comes from outside one's conscious self to such a degree."
To me, creating and viewing/experiencing art are two sides of a conversation. The artist absorbs facets of the world around him and interprets these through creative process. My own creative endeavors always seem to be my conscious mind spewing forth an amalgam of images, ideas, and concepts that have collected through various experiences. When my mind makes connections and completes a puzzle out of seemingly unrelated pieces, the muse, the creative impetus, screams, "This new idea must get out there. This design must be added to the tapestry." It's a drive, not to claim the original experiences, but to share the view of them through my own warped mind. :D
Also:
"I do think that using one's unbridled imagination feels a lot like an out-of-body experience, where one can observe and remember things, but not really participate. I think on some level this sort of thing can and does become addictive, and perhaps it exacerbates certain avoidant or dissociative tendencies already present in one's psyche."
I don't really know whether to agree or disagree with you here. I would tentatively agree based on personal experience but then I wonder if it isn't a chicken-and-egg issue. Does this method really exacerbate those tendencies, or does the presence of such tendencies ("behavioral abnormalities") facilitate that form of creative practice, which might be seen as a cognitive abnormality? In any case, my interest is piqued. So thank you for making me ponder!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-08 10:18 pm (UTC)Wow, I mean, so you're conscious of your inspirations as being some namable part of the world you perceive? Sometimes it's like that-- like a precise -ping- and I know exactly which event or thing had set me off, and sometimes, if things are more involved, I don't know exactly where things are coming from, but yes, yes. It feels like a conversation, like a -reaction-, like something that is-- both yours and not-yours, something -else-, something... to be shared. That's why I think art is communal even if you never really go out and show it to people-- just because you're communing with the universe itself merely by creating it. Heh. Man, that sounds overly high-minded as anything, but I know what you mean exactly~:)
Yes, I was running into the chicken-egg issue a lot, circular arguments as I mentioned. Hmmm. I mean, creating things... in a way, that in itself is a bit of a cognitive abnormality even as ingrained as it is in human beings, I guess I was trying to say. Normally, we're so... shut in, you know, identity-driven, separate from the universe. We are "I" and not... "you". Or something. But creating characters and worlds and such kinda pushes at that divide, seems to erode the boundaries of self somewhat. So whether the "abnormalities" are the cause or the result... I mean, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe creativity is like the spark of madness, in itself, as well as probably the spark of life, also.
It's hard not to get all poetic about it :>