I write these stories and blogs. I also write songs, poems, and draw pictures.
I am what some call artistic.
When I was a boy watching old Godzilla movies and anime, or listening to my dad read me the Lord of the Rings, I guess something in me wanted to be a part of that, and so I started to create.
In my head, with my monsters and robots, and with pencils and papers, I started to make my own stories. And as that young boy with my head full ideas like intergalactic robot alien wars and the cave trolls in the mines the dwarves dug too deep, I could not have cared any less what anyone else thought if they were to know what I was up to. Hell, I’d parade my drawings around at family functions, with all my cool, interesting cousins and uncles, and they would give me their insightful opinions and my aunt, grandma, and dad may even have fed me some thoughtful advice Even now, I can see my grandmother lowering her voice and pretending to be some creature I had drawn up, and then she would comment on a detail she thought was particularly “interesting”, and she meant it.
Inspiration isn’t some miraculous golden epiphany you wait around for to hit you late at night or in the desert while you’re on shrooms with that friend your parents don’t like (not biographical merely making a point).
We just ignore the things in our life that feed us, we quiet the restless thoughts and questions, those things that make you think really hard, stand up out of your seat and yell in a room full of people, the things that make you want to get out of bed.
I was talking to a friend recently about song writing. Somehow or another, a question came along the lines of “Where do you get inspiration? What do you write about?” and I’m sure I said something like I try and lean into my influences and recreate what I love. (Austin Kleon Steal Like and Artist reference- look it up). But I think a more suitable answer for anyone interested in trying to think about their own life more and be more creative in a broad general sense, regardless of the creative opinions someone has about themselves, that answer would go more like: Each day I struggle to look for ways to think about all the crap in my life and in my head. I wake up and journal, I carry a little leather notebook holder around searching and listening for keen thoughts, comments, questions or dialogues, I read the Bible (Christian or not it is undeniably a life giving text), I read poetry, I listen to oodles of songs, read other books, I write a song every day, I call my Dad (at least once), I record my conversations with my 73 year old grandpa. And not to mention all the bad habits I have; those are important too, just not enough share at this moment in fear of being distracted.
So I guess where I get “inspiration” is just sort of being a neurotic, anxiety riddled, crazy person who lives in a warehouse.
You are a living, breathing person, who has hopes, fears, problems, flaws, secrets, and dreams. Start listening and asking your grandma what she thinks about your drawings, and show everyone you know.