This morning I started my day off well by watching various TED Talks while I got dressed. I watched through one about undersea creatures and their amazing abilities and then clicked to a very different one by Elizabeth Gilbert called “Your elusive creative genius.” (The video is at the end of this post, check it out!)
In her 20 minute talk, Gilbert discussed the idea of an artist having a “creative genius.” As the author of Eat, Pray, Love, the first book in a lifetime of work that became an international bestseller, Gilbert found herself being asked how she could keep writing, knowing that the best thing she had written was behind her. She related this question to a similar one she was asked when as a teenager she first decided that she wanted to be a writer, “How are you going to support yourself?”
The questions, says Gilbert, are all rooted in fear. In fear of creating something and in the fear that has blossomed in the past 500 years when the worth of an artist as a person become intrinsically tied to the worth of the art they create. This is why so many artists have built a reputation for alcoholism and manic-depression. How would it feel at 40 years old to know that your best work was probably behind you? How could you get yourself to keep working?
What sets Gilbert apart from other artists who faced the same questions is that instead of succumbing to the magnitude of them, she looked into various cultures to see how them looked at creativity’s relation to the artist as a person. She landed her research in Ancient Greece and Rome. Before the Renaissance, creativity was not connected to the person who made the piece. It was instead viewed as a separate entity which would come to visit people.
Romans believed they had geniuses in the walls of an artist studio who came out and helped the artist while the Greeks believed in daemons who provided much the same inspiration. In both cultures, whether your work was phenomenal or a failure, you couldn’t take the whole credit for it. It reflected not only you but your genius or daemon. This protected both against the narcissism of success and the depression of failure, because you weren’t what had succeeded or failed, you weren’t solely responsible.
What a wonderful idea! Gilbert goes on to speak about various artists, herself included, who have come to find that creativity is an entity outside themselves that comes to visit them. And by viewing creativity as such, they distance themselves from the narcissism and depression just as the Ancient Greeks and Romans did. This distance is what allowed her to keep working, to keep writing despite blocks and despite the fear of not ever being able to top her international bestseller.
If only we could spread this thinking, more people might be able to try and live the life of an artist. They might not be so afraid to create, constantly questioning to the point of completely hiding any creative potential they have. As I head out to perform today and come back to my studio to paint tonight, I’ll keep in mind the thought that it isn’t all about me. It’s about creativity, and whether it choses to visit me. Of course I will still perform, I will still paint, but if inspiration isn’t with me today I will be proud of what I performed and what I did on my own while waiting for my creative genius to join me another day.
Gilbert ends her talk by shouting ‘Ole!’ to you, just for having the sheer human love and stubbornness to keep showing up.”