Some years ago I used to have a radio show. I used to do a segment called the Practical Pagan, and a few other segments where I discussed things of topical interest. I’d also do interviews, music, book, and film reviews, and other items of interest to the Pagan community. Once, a listener asked how I was able to find something to write about every week.
I’ve spent much of my life journaling, and now I’m writing for this blog on a daily basis. I may not post daily, but I am writing daily. And I keep a backlog of posts started. When I come up with an idea, I list it as a title and come back to it when the time is right. I’ve also got a number of books in the works. But having something to write about, having a reason to write, even having a deadline, these don’t offer inspiration – they don’t give you the drive to write.
It’s the same with art or music; we can want to paint, draw, or playing am instrument.
In the video clip above we see Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John in the 1980 film Xanadu. Olivia is playing a woman named Kira, and Gene, a big band leader named Danny McGuire. The film also stars Michael Beck, an artist who finds himself struggling and unfulfilled, creating album covers rather than doing the sort of art that would inspire him.
Both men meet Kira, but Danny remembers her from long ago. Eventually in the film, Kira reveals herself to be the must Terpsichore, from Mount Olympus, and she was there to inspire both men. By the way, this was Gene Kelly’s final film appearance, and featured not only Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John, but the music of Electric Light Orchestra, and it features one of the best fusions of big band and rock that I’ve ever heard. The soundtrack album went double platinum in the US, so the film and the music are worth a bit of attention.
Of course life isn’t like film or Greek mythology. There are no Gods on a mountain waiting for the right incantation in order to help us. In my experience even having a regular spiritual practice is something we can struggle with.
So what is the answer? It’s going to sound really silly at first, but it’s the honest truth. Inspiration comes from doing what we want to do. But there is an important key, especially early on: do it without judgement. Certainly you can watch your progress, and at some point you can device whether you’re comfortable sharing your work with others. You will want to continue honing your craft of course, but the more you do, the more you’ll want to do. It becomes a matter of habit.
And worry not, dear reader, you in the back who thinks to stump me with your clever question. What of the writer, or artist, or musician, or anyone whose well has run dry? In general, I see a few reasons for this, though there may be more. In my own life this can happen when I left myself become too busy with other things, when I am forced to be creative with insufficient time to do so. It’s not that the muse has left, so to speak, but that my mind is too disquiet to relax and listen. I am too anxious to be inspired.
Another thing that can happen is that I can simply take a break for a while and allow myself to get out of the habit. It is easier to remain creative than it is to re-engage that productive creativity that has remained idle for too long. It’s kind of like Newton’s first law of motion applied to creativity; a creative person will tend to remain creative as long as they keep creating being creative and the act of creating reinforce each other.
Almost every writer can recall a project they began with enthusiasm, but at some point became distracted from, while we were engaged, the words and pages came easily, it might have seemed that rather than creating, we were merely reporting on things we were witnessing unfold in our minds. Then came the distraction. Work, children, illness, family emergency, it may have been utterly out of our control. But re-engagement with those characters or the project can be terribly difficult – much more difficult than the initial work. The initial work might have come about organically. Now, we need to rediscover a thread in a wilderness. But it can be done. One recipe for this is too avoid writing right away. Instead, I take some time and read what I have. I don’t try to proofread. I don’t try to imagine next steps. I try to feel and immerse myself into the story so that I can get somewhere near to the intimacy I once had with the characters and the plot.
Something you can try to avoid stagnant projects in the first place is to pull them out and read them periodical. If you’re a musician, or a painter, play them, put them on an easel every now and then, keep them fresh in your mind. It will make those projects much more easy to return to in the future.
The final reason I’ll offer for dry spells is this: being comfortable. It can be very comfortable to do what we’ve always done, to have a formula that had worked for us, a well from which we can draw that always yields success. But sometimes this sort of well might not be deep enough to last indefinitely. Sometimes we need to be able to draw from multiple wells.
For writers, if we’ve been limiting ourself to poetry, we can try our hands at prose. If we’ve been writing non-fiction, we can write some fiction.
Here’s an idea: Try taking a short story someone else wrote, one that you haven’t read and read half of it. Take the first half, and finish the story as if it were yours. Then read the original authors second half. How did you agree? How did you differ? What do you like about your work and the original author’s work.
If we write music, we can try another style. If we play an instrument, maybe we can learn another. If we’re am artist, we might try a new medium, or changing up a style, or trying to impose a limitation such as making a painting using only red, yellow, black, and white.
Getting out of our comfort zone helps us to think differently, and thinking differently is fundamental to creativity. Every engineering accomplishment that we benefit from has come about because somebody thought about a problem differently. The same is true for art and the written word. Every new thing comes about because somebody thinks differently.
The only people who dare say “there is nothing new under the sun” are those who look at things as they always have. If we’re willing to see things differently, there is always something new