Creative Forgetting

I’ve talked numerous times about my idea that everyone is creative. And this month, we’re going to talk about this creativity, but from the perspective I’ve been enduring. So it may or may not be well known, but childhood trauma causes memory loss. I have suffered significant memory loss throughout my life. But recently, as I’ve spent a lot of my time in my home, I’ve remembered some significant memories that punch through just a very small bit of that fog. Today’s topic is not about the science of that, or memory loss’ protective quality. It’s about creative forgetting.

I wanted to tie this into trauma-related memory loss because I think some of the same themes are playing out here. So creative forgetting is literally me forgetting all the time that I’m a writer. After a draining day or week, I’ll sit on my couch and watch YouTube videos of highly creatively disciplined individuals making their art.  I’m so happy to see other creating, and even making their living from the things they create. And I spend time too making lists, either in my head or on paper, of things I’m interested in. I do this to try to gain creative inspiration. I pull out my watercolors and paint. I make a pizza or pancakes. I sew. I read. And in all this, I conveniently forget that I’m a writer through and through.

Like many creative endeavors, writing is not regarded as valuable in our society, and it can be ridiculed (until those people who ridicule me try their hand at writing themselves). And I think that when you’re creative (everyone is in some capacity), but in a traditional way (like with writing), you have a stubbornness in your step. You know you’re doing something that’s highly valuable, and that people aren’t about to admit is highly valuable. But writing is traditionally creative  – gasp – and society wants automatons. By the way, when I say “traditionally creative”, I mean that it’s normally considered creative. I believe that everything is a creative act – from washing the dishes to fixing a car to investing in stocks.

For me to feel that I was worthwhile in my pursuit of writing as a full-blown career, I went to a coding bootcamp. This step in my education brought me a very interesting career as a Technical Writer. I blend my writing skills with some engineering skills – even building a full iOS application as a previous job. But there’s that inherent awkwardness in feeling that your position is looked down on. I wrote about this in I’m Not In It to Become a Developer, after someone said I’d make more money as an engineer (even though I have no interest in being an engineer).

So I was thinking – what if I keep forgetting that I’m a writer because I myself have integrated some other people’s beliefs about the worth of writing? I know the worth of writing. I know it’s a significant industry, a competitive industry, a powerful industry. I know that celebrities and politicians inevitably write a memoir or a self-help book. So then why the creative forgetting? Perhaps because the value of my writing has not been validated. Perhaps because my writing has not sold more than a dozen copies. Perhaps because I operate behind the scenes, most extremely as a ghostwriter. Or affectionately, as gutter, which I call the process of totally breaking down a piece of work and reassembling it.

This all isn’t about a need for me to gain attention about writing. If you snug up close to each sentence, it’s evidently a practice in thinking about why I keep forgetting that I’m a writer. Partly, it’s because I’m not reminded. And that’s not going to happen. Nobody’s going to remind me that I’m a writer. The other part of it is that I’m met with a lot of media that asks me to explore myself. Whenever I read something on Instagram or otherwise about exploring myself, I keep getting caught off guard. Thoughts course through me – do I not know myself? I look up and there are six stacks of books in front of me, and a 17 Penguin edition book collection of Victorian and contemporary Horror classics. Do I not know myself? Or is this self-care shit getting out of hand (*closes Instagram*)?

So then memory loss comes into play. Writing is how I define myself. So then is forgetting that I’m a writer a from of temporarily rejecting my identity (and myself)? And I should clarify that when I say I forget I’m a writer, I mean that I may have some free time on the weekend, and it’s not the first or second or third thing I think of doing. Of course, this could all have a lot to do with the pandemic. We’re all at home (or should be because of COVID) and there’s not a lot of external stimuli.  But what I’m trying to get to is that whatever your passion and your craft and your skill is, it is valuable. It is so valuable that for you to grasp its significance would terrify you. So please, whatever society tells you, what you do matters.

Remember who you are and keep reminding yourself every day so you don’t walk around in a daze. So you don’t wander into odd hobbies along the way that you’re not really interested in that keep distracting you from your deep work. But funny enough, if you’re a writer like me, you know those weird winding roads you take enrich what you do. Just don’t get lost there. Do what interests you, find other avenues, but remember who you are. Know that your forgetting is not forever. I recently reread a story about a girl named Vasalisa in Women Who Run With the Wolves. In this story, a little girl goes through a mini hero’s journey of developing or recalling her intuition via the external symbol of a doll. It’s a worthwhile read to understand the steps involved in building trust in the self.

What is inside of you cannot be lost or forgotten forever. Leave yourself a paper trail if you need to while you explore so that you don’t forget. What you do is an expression of a wealth inside of you. It cannot be crushed, but it can be artificially diminished by what society says, by stumbles and falls, by a whole lot of other factors. But it’s all yours and your only job is to keep remembering and keep returning.


The Creativity Complex

These are some rules that I came up with that define creativity and its relation with humans. We are users of a force called creativity. It was something that we all have access to, regardless of the tools are our disposal or our societal ranking. Some of us may believe that creativity was allotted to us from a higher power. Regardless of its origin and though it can seem elusive, creativity is very much part of our world and our everyday lives. 

It may serve us best to believe in the following Precepts, because they assume that we can (and will, with practice) live in a creative fashion. Creativity is more a way of life than it is a thing of circumstance and timing. By this I mean that I believe we can stay in a position of creativity if we foster it enough. And no matter the mundanity of the task at hand, we can interject the process with creative passion. This fashions us as the ultimate creators we all are. 

The Creativity Precepts are as follows:

  1. Everyone is creative. 
  2. You can never lose creativity. 
  3. Creativity is an infinite pool. 

Everyone is creative. 

Every single human being is creative, regardless of their rank and social status in society and regardless of whether or not they receive acknowledgment and attention for their creative endeavors. There is no human lacking the quality of creativity. We were all born with it and we will all die with it. 

Our modern society will have us believe that a select few are creative. Or that there is a ranking of who is more creative than another. I don’t believe in a scale. We are all creative in unique ways that are not measurable against others. However, it can appear that some people are more creative than others. This is because of a number of reasons. 

Those who appear more creative may have been subject to the following:

  • Consensus from a group of people (such as a  following on social media) that labels the individual as creative. 
  • Acknowledgment from an individual who has already themselves been acknowledged for holding creativity. 
  • Accreditation from a school that labels the individual as a specific type of artist. 

Do you see the pattern above? It is that those labeled creative have received external validation from other people or an organization. Then, creativity seems like an elusive club that requires some sort of authorization. It is not. Creativity is an expression. It is not a thing that exists with any conditions. It is unconditional. And every human being holds it.  

You can never lose creativity. 

Touching on the unconditional essence of creativity, it stands outside of a person’s age, valuation of beauty, engagement in mundanity, amount of mistakes that they have made. 

As a side note, I don’t believe in mistakes. We follow a path through life that requires us to make choices. Our values inform those choices and the roads that we travel. To speak about mistakes is to speak about choices that we have made and give ourselves the retrospective burden and guilt of having been uninformed, naive, angry, or other. We are the culmination of our values. We can take into the variables at hand, but to linger in false concepts like “mistakes” is to force the roll of seer onto ourselves. Of course, all this is said with the understanding that our actions have been congruent with our current values. When we go against our current values, it is because we do not value them enough. And then we must ask ourselves if those were indeed our current values, or if we idealize and internalize a set of values that we have not integrated into the consistent parts of our identity.  

 

Creativity is not fleeting. It may appear that way only because of the conditioning of society. And that’s when we need to start to consider the thoughts we have towards creativity. I know that I am creative because I do small things each day that make me smile and see the beauty of the creative life-force within me. 

For example, before I sat down, I was mopping my hardwood floors with my swiffer. But I am out of swiffer pads (and don’t plan on buying more because they are not cruelty-free and therefore, they don’t fit into my vegan lifestyle). So instead, I attached two cleaning wipes from a vegan brand and in such, created my own swiffer pad. 

An example like this shows the creative process of my brain, and also the connectivity of creativity with my values. 

  1. I ran out of a material that would enable me to clean my floors.
  2. I recognized that purchasing more of this material would go against my values. Note that while I could say that purchasing swiffer originally was a mistake, I opt to say simply that I was ignorant to the fact that the brand is not cruelty-free. From this, I can take away that I will research more thoroughly when I am shopping. Mistakes come with unnecessary allowances for my neglect to be a smarter consumer. 
  3. Going off of the design of swiffer pads, I thought about what similar item I had in my house that could most easily be swapped out. I opted for cleaning wipes. 
  4. Now that I found a similar shape (sheet) and texture (smooth, fabric-like) to swap the swiffer brand pads for, I simply fascened the wipes in the same way. Since the wipes are shorter, I used two and overlapped them. 

Now why am I talking about values here? Because I believe that our creativity is deeply integrated with our values. Once we are able to establish clear values for ourselves, we are able to refine the width and scope of our creativity. We are also prompted to make creative decisions that align with our true selves. My true self is in tune with my values. 

Creativity is an infinite pool.

Oftentimes, we hear about writers’ block or an artist being in some way prevented from using their creativity. Writers’ block has nothing to do with creativity. There is nothing extinguished within the artist. Writers’ block is instead an affliction of the human mind that works in counter to productivity. If we talk about the infinite pool of creativity, then we should talk about how to mine from this well. There are many ways, and in my experience, the quickest solution to overcoming writers’ block is to look at creativity as something that needs to be cultivated. 

We must be sure not to give creativity any elevated status, or we may determine that it is harder to bring it forth than other things. Instead, creativity is a cultivation of habit. To develop a habit, we must practice, and that takes repetition. It takes letting go of the notion of selling everything we create, and of the notion that all has to be comparable to our best work. 

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron is an excellent book that delves into regaining creative flow. Cameron walks you through 12 weeks of lessons geared at helping you regain control over your work. One of the tools that she puts forth is Morning Pages, which is writing three pages in a notebook every morning when you wake up. Morning Pages were a key for me when I was writing my first two books. They enabled me to have a routine and to stick to a commitment I made with myself to write those pages. Then the commitment I made to myself to write 2,000 words each night seemed less daunting. I had already proven to myself that I could honor my creativity and make time for it. 

 

This was the start of a non-fiction book but I decided to continue focusing on fiction instead. 

Since creativity can never be depleted, it is our job to figure out ways to keep it all around us. To be clear, it is all around us. We need to be able to see it more clearly and use it at will. If we place value on creativity and see it as an innately human quality, we will be able to see it in even the most mundane of places. 


Creativity When You’re Lost

I’ve stood consistently by my belief that every human being is creative. We all have different outlets for that creativity – some outlets are more socially recognized than others. But creativity is something so deeply engrained in the human experience that it rests even in states of devastation, loss, betrayal, sadness, guilt, and shame. And actually, sometimes those are the very feelings that prompt us to pull out the most incredible parts of ourselves to give to the world.

I recently read Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, in which she argues against the idea that you must be suffering to produce art. And I agree with her. When I was younger, I definitively believe that you had to be in a state of disrepair to create. This is because there were so many representations of the tortured artist in media and historical accounts of famous art figures.

Gilbert says that these tortured souls were able to make art despite their addictions and state of mind, not because of it.  I share this belief with her now. There is no great state of martyrdom that will juice you up to write a bestselling novel. In fact, to be in a state of anguish is fabricating an obstacle for yourself to leap over during your creation process.

That said, there are times in which we may feel lost, or be impacted by other negative feelings. During this time, creativity can be used as a conduit to climb out of those states. Creativity during times of hardship can be disorienting, foreign, unnatural. Your inner critic may take the lead and pummel you with criticisms and doubt. The following are things to remember when you’re lost.

You Will Never Loss Your Creativity

There is nothing anyone can say or do to you that will take away your creativity. There is nothing that can take your creativity away. It has always been within you, and will always be within you. Every human is an incredible channel for raising the collective consciousness to a state of total love. We get muddied by our worldly experiences, which make us question our faith in one another and in ourselves. We may shake and tremble under fear and a sense of non-belonging, but creativity is the well that we can pull from that will prove the irrevocable ties we all have to one another. We share creativity, and we cannot lose it. A few bad days, months, or years will never do so much damage as to even put a dent in your incredible power to create.

Your Value Cannot Be Measured

It’s easy to fall into the trap of believing that your worth comes from a situation, from the amount of money in your bank account, from your looks, or other sources. It is not. Your value as a human being is not dependent on anything or anyone. If you have no barometer of value that you falsely enforce on yourself, you are able to create freely and without criticizing yourself for the sake of others. Own your value by meeting your own standards, and love yourself regardless of your mistakes, and you will have created a far more loving world.

When You Feel Lost, You Are Not Lost

There are moments in our lives when things don’t seem to be adding up. Maybe there’s a sense of perpetual anticipation, or a sense that you’ve taken the wrong road. If you rearrange your thoughts, you can morph anticipation into wonder, and feeling lost into exploration. The human tendency to want to continuously fast forward to the good parts gives us amnesia for the moment. The moment is where the good stuff is, and if you’re here now, you’re not lost.

You Are The Love of Your Life

I’m not trying to be (vegan) cheesy, but you genuinely are the love of your life. You travel every single winding, curving, looping, upside-down, right side up, backwards, broken, freshly paved, unmarked, toll, dirt, cement road with yourself. You’re not lost! You’re just traveling this bit and maybe your right headlight is out. Maybe you had to pull over to change a flat tire. You’re not lost. The cool thing about being the love of your life is that you can work with your thoughts, habits, and deep inner self to cultivate creativity. You never have to look outside of yourself to do this. All the tools and the inner knowing is there. Maybe you’ll meet others that bring that light to the surface. Nothing can rob you of your journey with yourself, no matter what turn it takes or how many repairs you have to make.

I’m saying every human holds the eternal thing we call creativity. We can cloak it under pain, sadness, and life circumstances, but it’s not going anywhere. We have to shed those old-school, un-useful ideas that creativity must come from anguish. That means taking accountability for loving yourself and nurturing every tiny morsel of your being. It means refusing all ideas that contradict your knowing of the utterly beautiful creative, weird, otherworldly creature you are. There is no lost, you are here.


Notes on Ceramics

Today, I attended my third ceramics class. This course is held through the city I live in at our community center. I don’t think a lot of people know that cities offer very reasonably priced classes for adults to continue their educations and start new hobbies. It’s an excellent opportunity to try something new and to surround yourself with others who are lifelong learners.

In the previous class, we made stamps that can be used to adorn our work. In the first photo below, you’ll see that I created two stamps – one of a pumpkin (for the upcoming season), and one of my initials (backwards so they will look correct when stamped on). These have already been fired in the kiln after drying out. I am using a 25 lb. block of sandstone (cone 06-04).

The second and third photo show a box I created today. The lid is set on top of the box for drying, and I put some paper towel between the lid and base to protect my work. For this box, I measured and cut two squares for the lid and the base measuring 4 inches by 4 inches. Then I cut four sides measuring 2 inches by 4 inches.

I brought the four sides of the box together by cutting the adjoining edges of my side pieces at 45 degree angles so that they would appear more seamless. You’ll see that I also smoothed out the square corners and made them a bit more rounded. To bring clay together, I used scoring. This means cutting small lines into the clay on both pieces that you are bringing together. I did not use a slip (wet clay used as glue) through any of the process.

ceramic stamps     

This ceramics class has been exceedingly fun so far. It has required me to buckle down and give full attention to reconfiguring the piece of clay before me. It’s a great break away from my phone and I found that my head cleared sufficiently and I was able to enjoy the process of creating without anxiety. Like I mentioned in my recent previous blog post, it’s sometimes difficult in this society to invest in hobbies that we don’t expect to have monetary return on. We’ve been taught to invest in continued education – but only if it has something to do with our line of work, we’re retired, or it seems to hold some returned value (popularly weight loss or career transition).

I have always invested in continued education. After college, I signed up for improv classes in Sacramento and performed in front of audiences. Then I enrolled in a six month coding bootcamp also in Sacramento (although this was partly for the purpose of monetary return). After that, I attended a writer’s workshop in Pasadena. Now I’m taking ceramics. And next weekend, I’ll be learning Reiki.

I’m enjoying a life of exploration. If I can’t travel across Europe, at least I can make it to the local community center and play with some clay. If I feel like I need more mental stimulation, I can take a new course or try a new hobby. These things keep me interested in the world around me because they encourage me to pay attention to a bit more than my professional and daily mundane life. So I’ll continue to be a lifelong learner.


Creative Energy

Creativity is movement. Creative energy is waxing and waning. For the past month, I have had little motivation to put words to paper on this blog. I wrote a blog post about a week ago, but deleted it. The thing needed to be put out of its misery – it was bad writing. I had read too much of the type of writing that I don’t like, and it moved into me and onto my own page. What I read and subject myself to is important. I can’t control all of the energies moving around me that transform my writing, but I can make some decisions as to what I make myself subject to when it comes to articles I find on the internet.

I’ve found that LinkedIn has been playing a bigger part lately in my writing. I am conscious that there is a lot on there that I don’t resonate with. I have probably been spending too much time on there – looking for jobs and feeling the nag of social media involvement. I cling to ideas that I will come across THE information it takes to get a meaningful opportunity. But my expectations are intertwined with the knowledge that I’ll never really know how to network. I’m still trying to figure out what that word means. This relentless search of an unidentified morsel of data is insatiable. It takes away the energy I could otherwise be using to create. In reality, I take it away from myself by paying mind to something I cannot even identify.

When I don’t rush to write blog posts, journal entries, or other works, I find that I need to add to my mind. I garner mobility to create by gathering and reading new books. In these, I find portions of myself as a writer and person. The writer is always at the forefront, a lens that looms and alters all that I intake. The entity that I am, the person, is in charge of getting herself to sit down and write. The writer is in charge of coursing through the person, from immaterial matter of origins not entirely known. The person just has to move her fingers along the keyboard. She types rather blunderingly, but always corrects the misspellings and odd spacing as she goes.

Now back to the first person. I’m minding some other portions of my life that will help me to round out the aspects of my creativity. I know it is coming on time for me to begin another large writing project. So preparing in different ways is essential. I know some things for certain about my writing. Firstly, I need to be putting my body through heightened physical conditioning. It helps me think and it prevents me getting the bad back pain that only comes when I have neglected exercise. For this conditioning, I have chosen surfing. I used to be an avid surfer in my teens. Rekindling my relationship with this sport and with the ocean has already been incredible and charging.

Secondly, I have been coming back to the subject matter that resonates with me immensely. I have long been fascinated with the Victorian era and with mental illness. I have been reading books recently that have been reinvigorating my interest in both. Engaging in this subject matter is creating a whirl of enthusiasm – for the clothing, food, interactions, restraints, powerhouse women, and details of station and status within society.

I am writing this blog post so that I have written something public this month. I have had a strange and disappointing time on this Earth thus far, but I am here and I am here to write. I have showed up and I will continue to show up. Creative energy is not about waiting for the energy or motivation to write – I know that. It is about stabilizing and creating the discipline around the task. It is something I have mastered in the past that I have to master again. Just as I used to be a good surfer, I must learn again to be confidently in commune with the ocean, that I may be confident to ride waves and strong enough to paddle hard enough to catch them.

To do this, I must practice and grow more in reckless abandon, lest I not trust enough that I can balance on a board and glide with the wave. Lest I not trust enough that I can write down the words and flow with the narrative.


Disorientation and Connection

In disorientation, physical and mental, I promptly shed the residue of action and appearance that I ordinarily ascribe to. Unfamiliarity brings out in me bravery and curiosity. Travel wakens calmness and a tremendous reduction in self-consciousness. This appears to be correlated with my shift in attention. When I am home and oriented, and familiar, I become bored and focus on myself too much. When I move and disorient myself, I focus outward. This in turn spurs more creativity and more movement of thought. I think more largely.

Disorientation breeds connection. When I focus outward, I am able to connect my mind with my actions, because I am communicating with the world around me. Thoughts of self reduce and I thoughtfully act in accordance with the confidence that comes with being out of my own head. I make room for learning about things outside of myself, and in such, come closer to recognizing my place and presence in this world. I re-establish the valuable feeling of being small. Museums bring this out in me the most.


Building Momentum

There is no rival to creative momentum. On the terms that I have known it, momentum has been created through determined perseverance and regimented adherence to daily goals. The times when I was living creative momentum, I was writing books. From day one, I determined that I would write 2,000 words per day. I adhered best to this when I ran three to four miles beforehand. Running was a good transition activity between getting off work and sitting down at my desk to write. I did my best work at night, as I do now. It’s when I feel most creatively inspired and when I feel closest to building momentum. The momentum has since slowed down and even felt like trailing through a sandy desert. Deep, drawling steps.

Momentum is the god of creativity. It leaves no room for the creative mind to wander enough to self-sabotage. Nor does it allow for much second-guessing. Those are the killers of the creative spirit. Free of self, the artist can work for the art. There is freedom only in giving oneself entirely to the whims of the artist, to the focused mind, and to the flow of creation. Building momentum cannot be taught nor sold nor learned. It is through sitting the critical mind aside that the movement spawns. If there is too much thought, the audience will know, and may mistrust the art. At least if the audience is made of keen observers.

mountains photo

Thoughts of monetizing can critically injure momentum. Monetary gain is set on repetition of what is working, while creative ambition and momentum are born of variety. Lack of momentum convinces the creative mind that it is extinguished and that it has been spend and cannot give more than it has. It can whisper “you’ve done your best work already.” It can tease “you’ve gotten soft, you should have held on longer.” Momentum is the prize of the artist, and though some advertise that it comes through habit and stricter willpower, it is often more elusive than that.

I cannot tell you here how to gain momentum, nor how to chase it. But I will also not talk about writers’ block, maybe because it’s a burden I refuse to acknowledge. I know only that movement seeks no companions, and movement can appear to have left. But of all of the thing that this world cannot house, movement is not one of them. All things, breathing and not, are in movement, in momentum. Our current definition of momentum is fixed on the results. It lives in the artist who cannot touch a paintbrush without recoiling, and the writer would convinces herself daily that she is no longer capable of manipulative words.

Momentum lives in the most quiet of people, who work diligently and quietly. It lives in the loud people who endlessly try to convince the world that they are worthy.

This I know, momentum lives in all things. Solitude and rest are momentum. Our result-oriented teachings are in conflict with the truth of the matter. When we are creating or we are exploring, we do not need to create a result intentionally. Everything already moves in results, whether they are monetary or spiritual or other. When we choose results, we disappoint the fickle entity of creative processing that determines those. When we leave the results to the life of our creations, we come more closely into alignment with restful momentum. This type of momentum does not harm the creator, and does not pressure, and therefore, deform the creative endeavor. Movement is in all things, even if they appear to be unmoving.


Creative Stagnation

When I think of creative stagnation, I think of general stagnation. I think of the load of advice out there about overcoming it. And about how it’s not really relevant. Stagnation seeks rabidly for movement. It judges tip-toed steps and second-guesses every move you make. It listens intently to the words of people you seek out, even if those people don’t have your best interest or seek to pull you further into the muck. Stagnation creates internal rivals and outer diminished confidence. It is quiet and it is loud, rejecting comfort and falling into fragmented bits. By some descriptions, stagnation is movement in itself. In fact, everything is movement. But creative stagnation is a special kind of movement – disorganized, frantic, grasping, resigned.

mountains photo by Jonathan Knepper

Stagnation is a great form of contrast. When I live in creative stagnation, I look for calculated explanations when I find nothing else to hold onto. Creativity is some of the following for me:

Textures


Textures are definitive differences between objects. They are tactical and range in characteristics – smooth, cold, rough, fine. They induce responses – repulsion, pleasure, comfort. We speak of textures, explaining how objects feel, opting to wear clothing that is not abrasive, and making sensory connections between textures and materials.

Movement


Movement is the incredulous swing of life. It happens internally and externally, in collision and in unison and in solitude. Movement transforms the vessel and its surroundings – mentally, physically, and psychologically. It marks our placement, displaces and makes room for us, and lingers in short breaths and racing hearts.

Collections


Humans are a species of collectors. We place value on the objects, experiences, and environments that we surround ourselves with. Collections are accumulations. And while our culture is dead-set on resets, detoxing, and youth, our collections are some of the most remarkable and revered entities and bodies of work that we cherish.

Backgrounds


Backgrounds are templates on which a tremendous amount of data about our lives is built. When we listen to the wrong people, our stagnation increases because we are consumed with the happenstances of our lives engulfing what has not yet happened. Backgrounds are tapestries – framed in our minds, white-washed, wrinkled, distorted down to the stitches.

Differences with sames


Differences are abundant, and we measure them against consistencies. Creativity lies in remarking fluctuations, inconsistencies, and faltering. Consistencies play into the momentum of long-term creativity and creation. Balancing the sides of differences and sames attaches a core to the external.

Granular experiences


Granular experiences are those that hold significant meaning, detail, or emotive theme. When something is captivating, we focus intently on the form that is presented to us, and align its qualities with ways that we can remember them. Our memories shape-shift experiences over time and we cling to the webs that we have reinforced.

Attention to detail and themes


Creativity pays attention. It courts what it seeks to draw out, enlarge, and place at the forefront. Details and themes feed the unification of a creative act. It heightens our watch and changes our field of perception. In exchange, it asks neither rigor of observation nor begs reciprocation.

Cohesive incoherence


Creativity is incoherent, but it is cohesive. It borrows from the canon of all past creations and reconfigures known pieces into a new whole. Incoherence at its best is unmatched clarity. It points to something so familiar or unfamiliar that it crosses our rigidity. Cohesiveness makes it viewable. Attraction felt to incoherence is through cohesion.