Creativity Begets Creativity
Why cozying up with the creatives in our lives is good for us all
It’s the second week of the new year, and with stomach flu and holiday craziness behind me (see very accurate description below), I am back to my normally scheduled Tuesday programming.
A moment of gratitude before we dive in:
When I started this Substack account back in November, I did so as a challenge to myself. Between Covid and teaching, I hadn’t made my writing visible in a long while. Committing to a weekly Substack was a great way of keeping myself accountable, but I didn’t imagine it would be such a beautiful way to build community. Thank you (profusely and most sincerely) to those who have supported my writing with a paid subscription. Your commitment to reading is a gift I don’t take for granted.
If you’re considering a paid subscription for yourself or as a gift to someone else, you can sign up now through the end of January and get 50% off.
What I know about creativity is this: We all possess it.
What I know about being a creative? As much as you do.
When it comes to creativity, I have been haunted by a false narrative that goes like this: I can either be a responsible person or a creative one. Sound familiar? Many of us trek into adulthood carrying very strong beliefs about creativity and how it applies (or doesn’t apply) to our existences. Creative people are the ones we learn about in art appreciation courses and biopic films. They’re the big names – Vincent Van Gogh, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Picasso – the ones susceptible to addiction, tragedy, heartbreak, poverty, mental illness. The ones misunderstood by their families, their peers, holed up in studios for days on end, neglecting various facets of their lives as they attend to their art, or holding salons with fellow creatives, smoking cigarettes and drinking gin (or maybe I’ve watched Midnight in Paris one too many times).
For whatever reason, the creatives are never us, the ordinary people: paying mortgages, working for our health insurance, mailing packages at the post office, picking out our kids’ school clothes, separating trash from recycling. Yet, if you’ve ever received a handmade scarf or marveled at someone’s baking ability, you recognize that creativity is everywhere, evident in infinite forms.
Culturally, we’ve digested some strange and limiting messages about what it means to live a creative life. We can choose World A, the one synonymous with duty and safety, or we can choose World B, the one in which we tinker and play, making things no one is asking for.
Like most things in life, however, living a creative life is not a matter of or but and. The idea that we must choose has long prevented people from pursuing a life in which they learn to marry the two. And, indeed, with a little work and determination, both are possible.
Last week I had the great privilege of watching two former colleagues (both teachers and talented musicians) perform together at the Kennedy Center. It was a quintessential example of the and life, a reminder that honoring our creativity is among our most essential duties.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned over the last decade is that I am deeply energized in the presence of creativity. The more time spent in the company of writers, musicians, artists, dancers, and the like, the more inspiration and creativity I am able to infuse into my own world.
And what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. If you take a moment to consider the vulnerability required in displaying one’s work, releasing an album, writing books (in this era of Goodreads, no less!), standing behind a table or in front of a large room, and exposing oneself to the reactions of strangers, it’s enormous. Mind-boggling, respect-commanding, terrifying, and enormous. Anyone willing to do it is my automatic hero.
Showing up to support the creatives in our lives is an invaluable gift - not just to them, but to ourselves. It creates a positive feedback loop in which everyone wins. The artist is energized to keep going, the supporter goes home renewed, revived, and inspired to sit with their own creative energies.
It’s a great honor to support folks who have taken on creative endeavors. Not because they’ve earned the elusive title of a “creative,” or because they’re innately talented in some way, but because they’ve chosen to honor a sacred part of their being and share it with others.
And that’s a liberation for us all.
This Week’s (Optional) Homework:
Engage in the positive feedback loop of creativity. Attend an author event at your local bookstore, visit a gallery, follow a musician on Spotify, or check in on a friend you know is deeply embedded in a creative project. Act as their cheerleader and you’ll find you’ll soon become your own.
Creative Consumption:
Land of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang: The first read of the year gets a major creativity award. I’ve never read anything quite like it (plot-wise, form-wise, language-wise). It’s a journey of pleasure and of the senses, and the dystopian set-up is sure to hook you from the start.
Watch the replay of Rebekah Laur’en and Mike Mangiaracina killing it at the Kennedy Center. Teachers can do anything! It’s truly amazing.
Signing off from 16,000 feet above where I’m en route to surprise a friend who has just achieved a major creative milestone. Can’t wait to share more soon!
Today’s message deeply resonated with me. I’m so glad you started your Substack! Love your writing and the wisdom within it. 💜