Ms.Meig’s artistic statement seemed to veer off in so many different directions I got lost on what she wanted to say. Out of body experience? The painting expressing itself through you? Divine inspiration through imaginary space and time? The statement lost me to say the least and I became dependent on the lecture to clear up the ideas which sadly it did not for me.

Ms.Meig’s lecture was off-putting to find an odd word to describe an odd lecture. I struggled with trying to find what she was trying to say: a theme. I followed along but couldn’t help but realize all she talked about was that a book inspired her, not an everyday event, not some sort of realization, just a book. She then continued on about how this book changed her artistic view and centralized her work. I don’t care about architecture, I never have, I probably never will, and thus the resulting house discussion was unrelatable to me. I hate to continue whining (because its making me question my own happiness in life) but I then have to critique the rest of the class for their questions. It is not a question if you say “would you say that your creative process comes from making mistakes and then experiencing correcting them?” That’s telling the artist what they feel and Meig would just reply “yes”. I’m not learning anything about the artist, just the questioner’s attempt to relate themselves to the artist.

My blog is going to be short again. I’ve been tossing around ideas on what on earth I can do. Last time I checked I don’t live near any weird mansions and I can’t read a book in the space of three hours. I then realized I could be slightly ironic in my piece with a clever social commentary on both the presentation while still keeping it relevant to the presentation. I call it: What the hell is that?

This comes from one of Meig’s final comments about the stump/poncho man. It was unclear what the object was until it moved. I roved my building and campus in search of objects that are unidentifiable, or at least made them unidentifiable in the picture. This may only be connected explicitly to her final comment but I believe it certainly hints towards what I’ve said more than a couple times when looking at modern art. The answers are found by holding your mouse over the image. Click to enlarge.

My creative act this week was inspired by the reading of Personality and Artistic Creativity by James L. Jarrett. The central theme of all of the readings and Madeline Sonik’s lecture was explicit in the very title of this reading. It was also by far the best written and most interesting. Hans J. Eynseck’s article on Suggestions for the same theory was intolerable. I will admit, I could not finish the article but in my defense twenty one pages of thick psychiatric revelations was not part of the course criteria. There is so many different trains of thought in the article it is difficult to give an opinion. I found it educative but also overwhelming as each topic he blows off in half of his tiny page print could be evolved into an entire course. A general cover though is that intelligence is unrelated to creativity and what differences are there. Unfortunately I’ve always found this a sort of obvious especially when looking at other artists I know.

Amy Tan was interesting and I found her relatable to Brian Hendrix in the sense that both tried to teach through relating their experience and both did so in an intriguing and interesting fashion. But again, I didn’t feel like I learned a lot about myself or content. Ms.Tan’s goal was to explain how to make something out of nothing and I feel she got lost on that but, never the less, her story was spectacular and I enjoyed it even if it was certainly the black sheep in the readings. Ms.Sonik’s lecture was right on spot. Sort of a light summary of Jarrett’s work it was nice to have a dumbed down version of these difficult concepts to handle. For that reason I really enjoyed the lecture as it was easy to understand and follow.

Something that Ms.Sonik didn’t address but Jarrett did though was the idea of possession for the extraverted writer. One of Jarrett’s key concepts through which he based this article was the difference between artistic purpose and possession, the introverted and extroverted. These then branch off into different personality traits and examines those in more detail and what they mean especially in relation to one another. It was the idea of possession that I wanted to follow through in my creative act as it addressed all of the readings and Sonik’s lecture.

Explicitly stated in Jarrett possession is relevant to Eynseck’s argument that intelligence is separate from creativity as intelligence holds no bounds on the possession. Amy Tan discusses the creative calling and inspiration and Ms.Sonik talked of introspective as a narrow part of this possession of self. So for my creative act I let myself be possessed. In the afternoon, after a dull class, I wanted to take a quick nap. Instead I dropped my head onto my desk, my hands onto the keyboard, and began playing the Forrest Gump Suite by Alan Silvestri full blast into my earbuds. I then fell on the brink of the unconscious and conscious just letting my fingers go, unaware of what they were writing only seeing the words as they rushed by me too fast too understand. I did this for a full 15 minutes before I lifted my head again, surprisingly rejuvenated. I read the piece I had just written (which is unaltered for you now except for spelling and punctuation) that I give to you below and wonder just what the spirit that possessed me was trying to say. I even kept the mysterious cap locks that did not seem to impede my finger alignment. All I know is that I had a discussion with a friend the other day if I was the incarceration of Oscar Wilde. Let’s just say it was finished unresolved. So, dear reader, here is a creative work technically of my own hand but certainly not of my own doing.

It was an autumn day. Sun shines. Tears rain down from heaven on high. I asked my mom yesterday if I could take a ride. “Where?”

“Anywhere.”

She looked at me. Breaking baby blues. She just smiled and walked away leaving me to myself in the sandbox, still playing with the sand, making a castle. It wouldn’t be for years that I would realize that that was the last time I saw Mom. They say it was a stroke, I think she was just tired and she saw how the leaves flew free; that they didn’t need to be told what to do or try to define who they were. I wish I knew why she wanted to join the leaves, or maybe more so, why she didn’t help pull me into the braches as well just letting me lay on the ground by myself in the sand-box.

The year is eighteen nineteen. I heard someone die outside the window last night; a child, hypothermia. I could hear the bawling all night of another abandoned little one but I wasn’t one to care or to try and stop the mother or father from changing their lives. Setting themselves free. The police came this morning. “An awful shame”

“Beautiful child” that could have been my child but I remained in the loft just staring out my window. I soon returned to my work, pulled out the parchment and just began to flow.

I do have a child. Her name is Lucy. Lucy Lavelle. She is my angel atop the tree and the only thing I need. I don’t know who the mother is but I have assumed the role of father. This time when I heard the bawling I decided that the loft was big enough for two. I don’t know if I can do this but with Lucy babbling by my side I frankly don’t really give a damn,

Her tenth birthday. I let someone else run the show for once. The kids go off without me. They run down the street flying kites of love. Silence as I lose sight. A corner too fast as they rocket like streams down the cobbled path. I ask Lucy to stop but now I’m too late as the point in growth is removal.

I return to my sandbox and just sit there. I try making another castle like I did as a child but I can’t. The castle is never able to reach nor exceed my expectations. So Lucy comes back, plops beside me. She begins to finish this castle that I’ve started. With tiny ivory hands she builds parapets, soldiers, a stable, horses, population, city, she builds a culture. We rule over this kingdom, Lucy and I. I the offshoot king her the belligerent lovable leader. Never have I gone on a journey so deep, so far fetched, that I have actually succeeded in reaching something of a destination.

BUT LIKE ALL THINGS TIME PASSES. THE CASTLE CRUMBLES AND LUCY IS BAWLING AGAIN. I LOOK OUT THE WINDOW, DRAWING MYSELF ROM THE PARCHMENT.

Brian Hendrix’s presentation was moving, insightful into his character, and a reflection on how emotion shaped a creative career. Sadly, however, I didn’t get anything out of it. I’ve heard stories of inspiration before, Hendrix may have had a motivational tale and starlit life but that doesn’t teach me anything about myself. This is a course of self-discovery so I was lost as to why all I gained was a history of someone else.

Emotion and Creativity was perhaps the worst article I have read thus far in the course (and that is, unfortunately, saying something). I was on the verge of tears after only a page when I read: “The aesthetic rationale of much music is centered on the creation and reconciliation of emotional tensions”. Just because I know what this means doesn’t mean that having to spend three minutes on each sentence in a 12 page article is justified. Painful is my only words to describe this lollygagging word extravaganza. What did I find out? Turns out emotions affect creativity. Dur. Specifically emotions help guide the artist when they’re lost in the creative endeavor. This is still pretty vague and, as I said, redundant.

The article on the destruction of musical students was bizarre. Not being a musical student myself I struggled to pull it back to my own creative experience. Again the article refers to feelings; taking examples of emotions altering musical pieces. I believe this to be a totally valid point. Even then the article was too specific for me to really pull something out of it.

It was Zen Theory and the Creative Course that really gave me something to work off this week. The article was intriguing and well written (none of this big words nonsense). The idea is brilliant: the quest to creativity is an internal journey. This internal journey is then closely linked to emotion as depending on who you are the creativity will flow differently. I really liked the article, especially the concept of koans, riddles without answers.

These koans were then the inspiration for my creative act this week as I came up with a couple of my own. Each one, I feel, reflects a person’s personality, and thus, their emotions. I tried to narrow it down to the most intriguing seven.

Can one return if never left?

What is the smell of freshwater?

Why did ‘a’ get to go before ‘b’?

If there was no light would there still be shadows in the darkness?

Without colour would everything become black and white?

What is the taste of freedom?

We have learned that someone can make something out of nothing but can one make nothing out of something?

Creativity and Consciousness addresses the consciousness and it looks at what it is comprised of as well as how it accepts information and grows. This wasn’t what I wanted to find out though because knowing about how one’s conscious works doesn’t answer any personal questions nor provide insight. The consciousness is by definition something that we are aware of thus it is impossible for it to have not already answered questions. Rather it was the second reading and lecture that showed me what to explore.

The lecturer, Madeline, and A Jungian Approach to Creative Writing Education both discussed Jungian ideas and aspects of this psychological theory. The most general and important of these Jungian concepts is the idea of ‘self’ in which a man discovers and embraces both their conscious and unconscious selves. The unconscious aspects of myself are what I contemplated and discovered this week. It would be a sad irony when I discovered that I actually fear my ‘self’ because of my unconscious.

The unconscious is made up of a number of parts according to Jung and many of these parts are existent in every man such as the id. I focused on the discovery of three other aspects I found more interesting than the others: the shadow, the anima, and the archetype. It is these three aspects of myself that I discovered that allowed me to better understand what I am deep down. With the recognition of these aspects I was able to define my persona, another Jungian concept, and what it means to me.

The first of these is the shadow. The shadow is believed to be the negative aspects and traits that a person has purposefully hidden away inside themselves. During moments of weakness, however, the shadow is able to rear its ugly head in the form of greed, envy, and other such sins. To find my shadow I had to grow a sort of third eye that was able to remember ways I felt then relate them to me later when the shadow became dormant again. This sounds arrogant to claim I am capable of doing what others can’t in defining their unconscious but I wouldn’t consider it a blessing nor am I intentionally being arrogant. I know my shadow because of what happened when I let it out. My shadow is vicious, more than anything else my shadow is defined by anger. Once when I was in an emotional situation I allowed my anger to overcome me and I broke out at one person about just how horrible they really are. That anger was enough to break all contact with that person. My shadow ruined one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. Since then I’ve been able to identify a tiny voice in my head as it judges and seethes venom for people I don’t even know and do know alike. My shadow judges anybody by the personas they assume.

The anima I have is something I have come to terms with and I feel comfortable with. Supposedly an anima in a man gives them emotion when properly nurtured and emotion is something that I thrive on as a writer. My anima is powerful enough that it allows me to have something of a romantic look at life. I also know that I have the ability to suppress my anima as on numerous occasions I have repressed a feeling, primarily of sadness. In this sense my anima and my shadow have similarities as both have the ability to take over my feelings, fortunately I have the ability to suppress both of these. My anima is something I have come to a sort of agreement with as she gives me the capacity to ‘feel’ the world and thus write more emotionally and realistically.

The archetype is the unconscious manifestation that appears in dreams and visions. When I was young I had an amazingly powerful archetype as I would have the most vivid and horrifying dreams. Reflecting now I can recognize that my dreams remained vivid but became less horrifying. Then I stopped being able to recall my dreams, though I know that I have them I very often am unable to remember them and they slip by me. Thinking back now I believe that my archetype is disappearing as the rest of my unconscious no longer has to come through in my dreams but is now capable of manifesting in my conscious; as I have just discussed with my shadow and my anima. This also explains how my dreams became less horrifying as my shadow became more and more into existence. As of now, when my shadow has gained the capacity to speak to me (mind you I’m not schizophrenic, don’t worry), and my emotional response is at its’ peak I no longer have dreams. My archetype has left my unconscious as I no longer need to be told of my dark side in my dreams as I am fully aware of it in my life.

Having discovered my unconscious I was able to identify the persona that I have knowingly been wearing for six years now. My persona is a seemingly endless optimist. My persona is the opposite of my shadow, I am happy, contented, and amiable. My shadow has begun to undermine this as I become sadder, angrier, dis-agreeable. All I can hope to do now is stop my shadow. I pray that because I’ve recognized my unconscious I can now suppress it again as the purpose for it to be called an unconscious is to not be me. I can see now that all I want to be is my persona.

Hopefully now it makes sense why I’ve become afraid of my ‘self’ because the more it manifests the more of a horrible person I become and that’s not what I want to be. My creative act was the discovery of my unconscious, the largest act of self-expression possible. This has been an eye-opening experience to say the least and I have most certainly gained something to think about.

Fearing just doing another doodle or poem I decided this week to brave a disciple that would surely outcast me if I bore myself into the classroom, music. I played piano for three years five years ago and haven’t touched an instrument since. All I have is my voice. If the world judged singing based on musical based video games I would dominate the charts. Since that’s not how the world works I have gained for myself the incredibly incorrect idea that I can sing. Never the less to keep original in my creativity and to express myself through new means I made a song this week. As I said I don’t play an instrument so I found a karaoke version of Oasis’ “Wonderwall” and made up my own lyrics. These lyrics have to do with what I’m finding with creativity thus far in the course. I believe creativity, no matter how bad, is an art form that is reflective of the person creating it. Regardless of whether others hate it or like it not only can the work not be judged but if you, as the creator, like it that’s good enough for me.

I’m really not going to recommend listening to this. The lyrics are below and you could probably just hum along in your head. If your willing to be embarrassed by my embarrassment below go ahead, just remember your the one that chose to click it.

http://www.fileden.com/getfile.php?file_path=http://www.fileden.com/files/2009/10/15/2603899/Wonderwall%20Cover.mp3

The file technically has to download because uploading an mp3 on this site would cost me $20 which definitely isn’t included in my student fees. Oh well, took me an hour to figure out but at least its up here now.

Lyrics (with prolonged letters for emphasis):

Today is gonna be the day that I’m gonna teach it all to you

By now you should have figured out that one plus one makes two

I don’t think that anybody knows the things I do

About you now.

Let’s teach. The word out on the street is that you never let you true self out

I’m sure you thought it out before but then you went and had your doubts

I don’t believe that anybody knows the things I do

About you know.

Because I’ve seen all the pictures and the painting

The way you try to hold back like your waiting

You don’t seem to understand the only thing that’s true

Will come from youuuuuu.

Because babay. It’s called creativity. And through it allllll. You’ll have a balllll.

Today is gonna be the day that your gonna learn what makes you

By now the pictures somehow carry something that’s so true

They carry self expression, daring, something that’s brand new

For them and youuuuuu.

Putting yourself out there in your artwork.

It can be a painting or a good book,

All that really matters man, is learning what’s for you

And what it can dooooo

Because creativitayyyyy, isn’t just an abilitayyyyy. And if the arts for youuuuuu, its the best you can dooooooo.

Yeah creativity, its gotta responsibility. To teach us alllll, that we’re wonderfalllllll.

Yeah creativityyyyyy.

Its what keeps me going everyday.

This first song I’ve sung is arrrttt

And it’s pretty bad for a starrrrrtttttt.

Dr. Harding discussed how an artist finds and uses their potential, the process of creating art and how that art has changed over years as artists as a ‘breed’ have evolved. Looking at Michaelangelo’s early works and his later triumphs. More importantly his ‘captives’, unfinished art an art upon itself. It is so interesting to compare the glories of David to the works of ‘art’ of today.We are blessed that those older times existed.

The first reading, Patricia James and Learning Artistic Creativity was, to put it bluntly, something of a cliched experience. A young girl struggles to find herself in her art, only through practice and learning can she find her creative self and express that. A real tear jerker. Again, the focus of the article is on growth and how this girl, Sara, learned to make art.

The second reading, Leonardo’s Scientific Study of Artistic Creativity, lost me at many points. His constant ramblings about the connection between psychology and artistry became repetitive and redundant much too quickly. One thing that did hit me though was the idea that experience is what defines an artist, talent merely accelerates ones experience. That is one of the coolest things I’ve read in a while.

The final reading about AARON the artistic computer had me perplexed. I had remained on board for about half of the reading but soon found myself being lost in scientific breakdowns of the subject matter and more comprehensive look at just what creativity is. Everything was way over my head. Again, though, one idea struck me. Wether a computer can be creative and that it is the computers ability to break its own creative rules that allows it to be creative. A horribly twisted paradox.

There are therefore two reasons why I found coming up with a creative act pertaining to this content so difficult. The first is the content itself. Growth is so difficult to display. Comparing one work to another is like apples and oranges, sure there’s obvious differences but deep down they’re much a like and both can appeal to different people. You can even compare renaissance art to modern art to see that. It’s hard to display growth because sometimes aging doesn’t equal artistic growth.

The second issue is that I don’t really believe in this idea of creativity having to be evolved, that no one starts out creative but it is our upbringing and training that defines us as artists. I don’t think this is true. Some people can draw, others can’t. It isn’t because you were brought up in an art class while the other person had to work in a cole mine that makes you better, its because you wanted to draw. I take myself for example. I didn’t know I wanted to write. I never wrote a lot as a child, I used the “and then he woke up” as an ending in more then one of my stories. Then one day it hit me and I wrote a story about a tree in a storm for a school project. I got perfect on the project and my story was printed in the school annual. It wasn’t because I was trained how to write and because I had experience, its because it just felt right. The same still applies today. Experience has helped me spruce up my work, I admit that, but by absolutely no means has it defined my work. I use experience as a spice, I use myself as the main ingredient. I hope that all makes sense.

My act of creativity was going to be writing without involving myself in the piece. Just an empty eyed narrator refusing to get involved. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever written and I had to consciously stop myself from changing it.  Instead I found a poem I wrote two years ago and I added to it. Changed four lines to ten. In it I see my own growth. My transformation from the light comical to the dark satirical. I find this poem a reflection on the writer I have become. The new lines could certainly do with a bit of tweaking but for serving their symbolic purpose they do a fine job.

A Woodland Night

He poked through the midnight mesh.

For Bunny Meat And Bunny Flesh.

He smiled in a howling grin.

Tasting bunny fur and bunny skin.

He gulps back the hot red mess

When he fells a bullet through his chest.

The next shot goes right through his head.

He howls blood words. Then he’s dead.

The hunter smiles, lowers his gun.

Killing creatures, so much fun.

I agree some kids these days have no creativity because of technology. They’ve become dependent on others telling the stories for them. For those of us who already know what creativity is and where it comes from our job is easier and, I believe, enhanced by these technological resources we are provided.

My act of creativity this week was playing a video game, Halo: ODST. It’s developed past a shoot-em-up. There’s emotion in here, playing it itself may not be creative because you have restriction but what you can then do with what you’ve played is. I took screenshots. I flew around as an omniscient camera and looked for images that could convince people their is artistic value in video games. I like the results, I hope you do to.

Sing a song unwrote.

Try to swim without a sea

Or sail without a boat.

You can’t be short if you can’t find tall,

You can’t hit the ground before you fall

So sing this song before you hear

That no one else is living here

And all you knew and came fear was true.

That there is nothing else

But you.

The only reason this is true

Is because I made it all for you.

To prove that nothing equals you.

To make a world so see through

The only reflection in the dew

Is the one that looks that you.

You are my destination nowhere.

The place I get away.

Living through each and every day

Only seeing you.

This is the dream I’m talking to

And when someone else asks me “who”.

I laugh and say:

“There’s only you”.