(note thanun/Unsplash)
Bryn Evans • May 21, 2024
Chapter Tags: Literary Arts, Philosophy
We were meant to create.
It is a gift, a privilege, but also a necessity.
Creativity turns confusion into clarity and gives credence to a truth so fragile
That it might otherwise splinter into indiscernible fragments.
When we create, what we have made soon emerges as if to confirm: That happened. What you felt was real.
And, in a subjective reality, a universe that experiences itself from numberless perspectives,
That confirmation can mean the world.
For to put brush to paper, finger to string, chisel to wood, is to put hand to heart.
It is to say to heart,
"Speak. I am ready to listen."
Creativity is self-love; a way to reassure ourselves when no one and nothing else may ever reassemble
The exact sensory mosaic we piece together in that exact moment.
Our creative force sustains us; it sates our hunger to understand the unintelligible and hold the intangible.
In creating, we dream, breathe, dance, fly.
We live in new ways, with a fearlessness that is found deep
In the corner of the body that only feels safe enough to undress itself in the gentle glow of imagination.
Creativity allows us to communicate in a language
Understood naturally by all, and yet interpreted differently a thousand times over.
And in this way our creativity leaves space in turn for the creativity of others—
A perpetual cycle of humanity.
To create is to experience life
On our own terms.
It is a gift, a privilege, and more than anything else a necessity.
This warm, resplendent life uplifts us; this laden, wearisome life beats us down.
And still, we create.