Strangechord

I’ve been feeling this incredible creative surge lately. I wrote two poems yesterday for the first time in forever, I’ve been whipping out e-mails, and I just spent the entire day re-organizing (and cleaning) my home office to facilitate dabbling in artwork again. My whole life, my creativity has always been hampered by the drive for perfection, so bad that in recent years I’ve ended up creating very little. Yesterday a really mature possibility struck me - to begin taking on creating (poems, art, music) from a place of brute honesty rather than perfection, abandon rather than control. Seems obvious, but is only in theory, not in practice. I wrote the following prose-y poem, which really sums it up:

What if it’s all about being honest?

If genius, creativity just takes guts?

Then I’ve spent too long being scared,

believing it was more to do with perfection

than sheer bluntness.

Maybe this is the beginning

of my being an altogether different sort of artist

than I ever intended

or ever imagined was in me.

I really believe that last part…who knows what will emerge now?