Ending relies either on uncertainty or despair, which is another way of uncertainty. From time to time routines cease to make sense, just like senseless improvisations, but we are taught to be grateful: You eat for a living, food is scarce, therefore you should’t be complaining about it. I start thinking about fallacies and begin to articulate the following: I eat for a living, tongues are scarce, therefore I should be complaining about it.
My argument implies a change of perspective: tongues are not food, besides, the meaning within it is usually closer to the Tower of Babel than the actual muscle that keeps us alive and ubnoxious. And it takes one question and three words to prove it: why don’t we just get along? Because we don’t. Then my argument suggests that such scarcity is not inherent to the object but to the eater, in simpler words: you are what you eat. At this point you may foreshadow my trick: I’m not talking about food resources, I’m exploring eating disorders, more specifically: creative disorders that I decided would embrace the form of eating. And to endure the analogy:
- Creative thinking is a basic human need.
- It syncs, it doesn’t pop out of the blue.
- It evolves through time, and during the process it can make us grow and vomit (over and over again).
- It will outdate each and everyone of us, just like every human need, can’t find satisfaction in any particular subjectivity.
My basic approach to creativity has been that it is the ability to counter emerging obstacles on you path. Regardless the truth (or lie) within this pace, I decided to renew my approach through proportion, one unstable concept that keeps proving our shared “alonglessness”. The idea of creativity being subjective barely surprises us, but the idea on relying on the subjective to enable some idea seems more like a potential threat than a potential solution. Which leads me to the following statement: ideas are facts, not the other way around. I won’t lie, there have been times when I face this statement and try to strike it back saying to myself: I can’t be that stupid, still can’t use the verb to be properly, then carry on brainstorming: ideas lead to facts, facts enable ideas, facts contain ideas… then I begin to be less confident: ideas may lead to facts, facts may contain ideas, then I stop.
I’m drinking a latte while writing about creativity, after a several interruptions I open an unfinished book, start reading, after a few minutes begin streching and finally back to my latte and my pending text. Nothing extraordinary happened: I’ve always been dispersed, I write for a living and enjoy a cup o coffee every once in a while, but something did happen: instead of thinking about my next words I focused on the unifnished book, my sore body, and my coffee; my routine ceased to make sense, and writing about creativity didn’t feel creative anymore. So I started to look for something different, oddly enough, on other routines.
Perhaps that is what proportion is about -at least concerning creativity- realizing that just like food, eating something only means you’ve eaten it, not that you are some food expert or that nobody else should try it. But we insist on social taxonomy while discriminating discrimination: creativity is free until I catch it (or steal it) or pretend I get it… then I remember about Vicente Huidobro’s words: “an adjective that doesn’t enlight, kills” (adjetivo que no da vida, mata).
Or maybe my analogy is closer to Babel than to food: creativity is about explaining what you just don’t get, and paraphrasing Wilde: that just may be such a dissapointing truth more likely to get me killed than clear, at least professionaly speaking.
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