okay, come on
talking to myself isn’t helping
just relax
music? no, it would be distracting
maybe it would be calming
i don’t need to calm down, i need to work
no, i will not write about my frustration about finding an idea
that’s so corny
i need to sit somewhere else
get my mind off of this blank screen
no time
why did i keep blocking my ideas?
because they were stupid
i could have made any idea work, i just needed to stick with it
that’s not true. i would have gone halfway there and decided to change
just make a decision!
i need sleep…
you can’t!
i’ll be ill. i’ll die
you’ll just feel like shit for a couple of days
but I have an interview tomorrow…
you can squeeze a nap in right before
i won’t even have time to review it in the morning
this isn’t helping!
i need to take a walk…
people will hear you. it’ll be awkward. just relax!
i’ll just start typing. anything.
“this sentence is improper”
three directions!
okay, focus
capture them
spelling, something in a classroom. revolt. inquisition. battle with rulers.
don’t get carried away, capture the others
some episode of star trek. paradoxes. that scene in austin powers with the exploding fembots feminism? no, that’s irrelevant.
shit, what was the third one?
whatever
i like the first one
but what was that other one? dammit, if i had just captured it. . .
it doesn’t matter. go with the first one

finally, the process begins
no more barriers
there was just that one hump.

Not seeing
complete introspection
I notice this state
and i’m still able to move in and out of it
“in the zone.”

3:00pm
under the covers
blinds shut
dark
just pretend it’s night
fall asleep

nobody should have to feel unsafe
in her own home
nobody

mom and dad are still screaming downstairs

clutching the covers
just close my eyes
it’ll be fine in the morning
well, it won’t
but i’ll pretend it is
i’ll just go to school
and it’ll be fine

“dammit George, you always fucking do this!”
“leave me alone, Martha. I can do whatever the fuck I want”

I need to get out of here
I can’t just lie here
my stomach hurts
there’s a pen and paper by the side of my bed. math homework
I start sketching
writing brief statements, quasi-poetic
this is so cliché
and emo

but it’s necessary
i feel better already
It’s literally bursting from my fingers
I can’t hold it in.

Shower
everything comes so easily
ideas bursting forth
like the water projecting from the shower head
the frustration is at the end
when I can’t remember any of my brilliant ideas

My son is sitting across from me
crayon in hand
drawing

I fiddle with my tie
realize how cramped my legs are
underneath the small table
my butt barely fits in the chair

“I have a blue dog.
his name is Ronald”
scribbling away
no attention to all of the accidental stray marks.
the errors

I just got a promotion.
I can process email twice as fast as my associates.
and I’m good with people. really good.
he’s so shy
sitting at his little table and drawing pictures
making up bullshit stories all day
he needs to wake up
get his goddamned head out of the clouds

“daddy, you’re a big, green bear.
you protect the family from the monsters in the back yard”

I eye my watch
I have to be back at the office in 45 minutes
it’s rush hour
I have to spell-check a proposal
then address some memos
then I have a conference call
but I won’t speak
only the people in management are supposed to speak
I might put the phone on mute and play solitaire

but at least I’d be getting shit done
unlike this lazy shit
but this is ridiculous
I shouldn’t have to convince myself that I’m better than a four-year-old

“son, why does that horse have three eyes?
horses only have two eyes”
“he has an extra
so he can see really far”

I had been so childish
all through high school
I wanted to be an author

Write medieval epics
with dragons and knights
and honor and strife and victory
childish
all the money is in stocks

I earned all this
my wife, my three kids
we agreed that we would have three
the other two are in honors algebra
they study every night
but this one just can’t stop drawing
page after page
always a new story

“you’ll just have to do something creative”
my boss’s obnoxious, passive- aggressive tone
I had even dipped into my own pockets to buy the fancy card stock
“it still needs a little something. some pizazz”
so I dipped even further into my own pockets
hired a “creative consultant”
he just added some colored rectangles
my boss fucking loved it
childish
I could have done that shit by myself

“daddy, can I have another piece of paper?
this one’s full.”

I shouldn’t have to defend myself
I’m obviously more accomplished than he’ll ever be.

It’s raining
lightly
it’s more like mist
the trees are covered in moss
so green
this patch of grass makes a comfortable seat
no other signs of life
besides the inescapable _spirit_ of the nature
the sound of the many drips of water gently sliding down the tree branches
and of a nearby creek

I close my eyes.
it’s a bit cold. also a bit wet.
I breathe deeply. notice my shirt soaking through
allow my body temperature to drop to meet the outsides.
not shivering to protect my insides
but relaxing, allowing myself to become one with the rain
completely open
this is how to talk to god

I’m outside of my body. outside of this world
I’m making music
I see animals that don’t exist
they will go in my sketchbook tonight
deep, powerful emotions
I’ll capture them with words in my journal

but these aren’t my ideas
they weren’t created by my body
they came to me after leaving it
I allowed them to penetrate me, like the rain

Can I have a word please?
“recipe”
thank you

a little of this, a little of that
structure, measurement
communism

“The Recipe for Efficiency and Success!”
the text was bright red on black paper
these posters had become more common around the city
the college had begun teaching new courses on the hive mentality
“knowing your surroundings and properly reacting”
“seeing the group as one”
didn’t anyone read the history books?
I decided I had to get out.

Like a lightning bolt
Entire vision at once
Unforeseen insight

Where does it come from?
like dreams
bits and pieces
conversations
books
TV shows
movies
especially movies
also a little pinch of my own thoughts. my reflections
mine

it’s a subconscious piracy
creating a mixed tape of my life

items that, when combined
outside of their respective contexts
“create” something new. something different.
but it’s not “creating.”
it’s “borrowing.”
an amalgamation.
a melting pot
with a little personal bias thrown in.

Sitting in the library
physics homework
no time
stress
seeing words without reading them
the same sentence over and over
nothing is sticking
there’s no urge

Can’t take it anymore
step outside
pen and paper
the cool air
a mindless, gestural sketch of the tree outside
refreshing
calming
it was necessary.

Evaluation

I chose to write poetry because it allows more freedom with syntax. My decision to manipulate form in order to find new ways to communicate imagery and sensations without being verbose is, of course, germane to my topic of creativity and inspiration. These “windows” are intended to mimic the human thought process, including a fluid movement from inner dialog to outside sensory observations. I chose to use as little punctuation and capitalization as possible because the mind doesn’t think with punctuation. The lack of punctuation, coupled with the numerous line breaks also help to increase “flow,” giving the poetry a “stream of consciousness” feel. The line breaks are not intended to be read as pauses. They simply mark the movement from one thought to another, a process which, in the mind, takes zero time.

In exploring the psychology of creativity and inspiration, some of my most valuable insights came from reflecting on my own experiences. The first and last pieces are mostly autobiographical. The first describes the way that, to me, inspiration often comes all at once, seemingly out of nowhere. It seems that I’m not alone in this thinking. The word “inspiration” means “breathed upon,” and many cultures, from ancient Greece to renaissance Christians, have seen inspiration as a gift from the divine. “It’s raining” is an exploration of the similar Romance era view of inspiration, where it was seen as divine, though the receiver had to actively open herself up to receive inspiration (in this case through nature). Graham Wallas, conversely, suggested that creativity is a five-step process, step three of which is “intimation”- the feeling that inspiration is coming.

Freud saw creativity as a result of unresolved psychological childhood trauma. There is debate among other modern psychologists as to whether creativity is an internal or an external process. It may be an aggregation of outside observations, or it may be a release of internal sentiments, as Freud suggests. In a number of my “windows,” I’ve taken the Freudian idea a step further and suggested that creativity can also be catalyzed by present stresses. This has been true to my experience, and also to what I’ve observed. A great number of famous authors and other artists suffered from depression or other mental illness. Also, it seems that great artistic movements often take place during times of hardship (war, depression, etc).

Marshall Dimock offers a synthesis of five different theories for the origin of creativity (one of which is Freudian), arguing that all five approaches to creativity—intuition, synthesis, imagination, levels of attention, and conflict—contribute to the creative process. She argues that it’s difficult to meaningfully distinguish between “internal” thoughts and “external” observations. “Where does it come from?” explores all of these ideas for the root of creativity.

“My son is sitting across from me” illustrates my personal observation that adults are often less creative than kids, and people are often most creative when they are youngest. J.P. Guilford described the difference between convergent thinking, which deals in mathematical absolutes (questions with single, concrete answers), and divergent thinking, which involves creativity and dynamic thinking. It seems to me that adults, through education and professional work, become more convergent thinkers, whereas young children are more divergent thinkers. Keith Johnstone, the inventor of the Theatresports improv format, discusses this same idea, describing how education is a “destructive process” (19) in that it impairs creativity. “Can I have word please” is an exploration of my own creative process. I began with a word, followed it with some quick word association, and then crafted a short scene around that idea.

Works Cited

• *Dimock, Marshall. “Creativity.” Public Administration Review 46.1 (Jan.-Feb.  1986): 3-7. JSTOR. 28 Apr. 2008 .
• *Johnstone, Keith. Impro. 1981. London: Methuen Drama, 1992.
• *(crowdsourced). “Artistic inspiration.” Wikipedia. 28 Apr. 2008 .
• *(crowdsourced). “Creativity.” Wikipedia. 28 Apr. 2008 .

Final Project for AP English 12 at Chadwick School.