Other people have told me they have no inspiration. They want to. They've tried. They even struggle with the concept . . . but nothing comes to them. Sometimes this leads to frustration because they feel like they're missing out on something (that they somewhat believe doesn't exist). Other times, they have a lot of guilt over the issue, because they feel bad that the family/religion/sunset stuff just isn't doing it for them.
While I understand their frustration, I think it's a bit misplaced. As much as we're told that "if you work hard, you can get whatever you want," when it comes to inspiration, it's not that simple. As far as not being inspired by your kids, don't feel guilty. Who besides Jackson Pollock could really find those little spew factories inspiring?
- Like love, inspiration is both emotional and mysterious. We know it exists and we know it's capable of producing tremendous changes in the world around us . . . however, we're not exactly sure what causes it. Why do we become emotional over certain things and not others? Why is it that one story mildly entertains us and the next story inspires us to devote our lives to curing cancer? With something this profound, you can't really quantify it.
- And even though you can't measure of quantify it, don't think people haven't tried. As they have done with what makes a good pop song and what makes a blockbuster, researchers have studied ways to create situations to inspire us. They add music that they believe causes people to respond. They manipulate colors and the way stories are worded, all towards the goal of manipulating our emotions. Does it work? Of course. However, as it is contrived, it doesn't work well.
- One of the pesky little problems with trying to mass produce inspiration is that everyone has their own individual tastes when it comes to what will move them.
- True inspiration comes when it does. You can't force it. It's kind of a mystery as to why certain things inspire us and other don't. Because of that, you just can't force something to inspire you. That would be like forcing something to make you feel sad when everything in the room is lollipops and rubber duckies. If nothing is making you sad, you can't genuinely experience the emotion.
- However, there are ways to stimulate inspiration. A lot of people talk about finding inspiration for things after they've slept. Sleeping is good! It's not the dreams and deep thoughts so much as the relaxation and clearing of the mind part of it. Don't like sleeping? Try an activity that busies the body and the mind, but not in a way that deals with your inspirational subject. Knit, golf, fish, work out, clean the house, take a walk, take a shower. All of these activities allow you to busy mind and body with other activities while your artistic drive seeks its inspiration.
What are some of my inspirations?
I always tell people I'm inspired by a large collection of depressed people with questionable morals, social habits, drug addictions, and desire to live. I love Anne Sexton. I love Arthur Rimbaud. I love Oscar Wilde, Hemingway, Faulkner, and Virginia Wolfe. I love Sylvia Plath, Carson McCullers, and Flannery O'Connor. Frida Kahlo's work makes me shiver. I love Pele, Odin, Fraya, and Coyote.
I love drag queens and brilliant junkies. I love people who can write good horror stories and people who can spin worlds that exist for thousands and thousands of years. I love it when things fall apart. I love the people who can function at times like that. I love the emperors of Rome and their families, especially Agrippina.
And for better or worse, I am inspired by my mother. I'm inspired by her good points, her manic brilliance. I'm also inspired and horrified by her personal choices and hope to avoid them and freak the hell out when I think I haven't.
Ahh, inspiration. As I said, it's a curious thing. It's also very wonderful to have. Here's to enjoying your own inspirations. May they be plentiful.
I always tell people I'm inspired by a large collection of depressed people with questionable morals, social habits, drug addictions, and desire to live. I love Anne Sexton. I love Arthur Rimbaud. I love Oscar Wilde, Hemingway, Faulkner, and Virginia Wolfe. I love Sylvia Plath, Carson McCullers, and Flannery O'Connor. Frida Kahlo's work makes me shiver. I love Pele, Odin, Fraya, and Coyote.
I love drag queens and brilliant junkies. I love people who can write good horror stories and people who can spin worlds that exist for thousands and thousands of years. I love it when things fall apart. I love the people who can function at times like that. I love the emperors of Rome and their families, especially Agrippina.
And for better or worse, I am inspired by my mother. I'm inspired by her good points, her manic brilliance. I'm also inspired and horrified by her personal choices and hope to avoid them and freak the hell out when I think I haven't.
Ahh, inspiration. As I said, it's a curious thing. It's also very wonderful to have. Here's to enjoying your own inspirations. May they be plentiful.
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