I have no idea what to write about, and this right here is a legitimate way to begin a piece of writing. “A writer is a world trapped inside a person.” - someone. Trapped would be the correct word to use at the moment - the capturing a responsibility entirely my own. I have this idea that writing is to begin with a purpose, and surely my experience with creativity has proven that artists work this way; and yet, I’ve noticed the way creative people wander in wide-spaces and succeed in far less than narrowing their expression and message down to not one medium of artwork but a lifetime of presenting an expression in form to say - if anything - something. It seems far from ongoing purposeful creativity. Creativity seems a gift for those that don’t have the sight of themselves and greater, but those willing to dive into themselves, yank on the cord of injustice at the lack of self-awareness, and choose to express the findings in a form for your entertainment and leisure [though it’s never really for that]. Most artists create because without creating they remain expressionless. It’s an act of extending oneself. Once an artist captures the ability to extend oneself, the task remains to show others how to extend oneself also (almost so creative beings can have friends). When I say creativity is a gift, it’s not for a minute limiting a single human being on this planet. Perhaps it’s part of our design - what is created must create. What is designed intricately must design intricately (or else fall short of purpose *drone*).
I will never understand who you really are unless you create something in which you’re insides spill out. We’re created spirit, soul and body. I feel like the language of our spirit is creativity - though our soul often carries the weight of our being and experiences, so maybe the ability to create is meshed into our spirit, and more often than not we choose to release soul hurts or joys as that’s what’s least heard and loved. It is only in the creative process that I figure out what I think, who I am, what I love, what I’m drawn to and how I’ve been designed (and more often than not, my creative process reveals just how great my Heavenly Father is). If this is where I find these, then the source of my creativity is my spirit. I suppose this means this piece of writing has no need for a purpose of it’s own, but rather I should just be okay with this writings’ purpose being, me.
