NICOLE ROSE | april avenue

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

She's a blogger over at Self Known, which is a cool, streamlined mix of inspiration and creativity. Today, she's here to share about her own creative process!

My creative process is like an old pickup truck that’s been driven for too many years. Perhaps I should upgrade and buy a newer model, but the worn seats, the steering wheel with the impression of my fingers, the squeaky brakes and the hassle I’ve put into making it run have built up an endearing connection. A blood bond stronger than the frustration, disappointment and tears wept in the front seat.
Even if the vehicle doesn’t start, I don’t mind sitting in it with nowhere to go.
In the meantime I gather inspiration from what my brother says at the dinner table and what my sister texts to me, even though she’s sitting right next to me. I harness the sparks of my feelings, because when I feel strongly enough about something, I tend to default to what some people may call a “deeply tortured artist with an overly dramatic outlook." I become opinionated. My views may change or warp. I’ll use worms as symbols.
At the most impromptu time during my gathering, my muse comes back from her vacation in the Bahamas, sees how stagnant I am, and pities me. She has this uncanny ability to strike bold, lightning hot ideas at me when I’m A). exhausted and almost asleep, B). when I can’t sleep or C). in the midst of my sleep (I’ve had some weird dreams, my friends). Because of the time change, jet lag and all, I give her the benefit of the doubt.
Her nightly visits are like an engine sparking to life, fueled by my memories so that new ones - different in their entirety - are created. This has me scrambling for a pen and notepad at odd hours, scribbling until my eyes burn from lack of rest.
Next comes the passion phase. This phase varies in length and strength, and tends to linger even as it scales down into minimal traces as I work. I lock myself away in the creativity garage, tinkering, sweating, building and modifying. I push my education back so I have more time to pursue, work out details, think, and daydream about success.

Stories and glitter are just a few on my many inspirations…

Then it’s like I’m rolling downhill. There are glittery exhaust fumes and a wide open road in front of me.
Until I find out my engine isn’t strong enough to pull the vehicle up the incline.

This is the stalled phase.
Have you ever seen those car commercials where they slam a car up against a wall to test how it will do in a car crash? Imagine how those test dummies must feel. Amplify that by a lot and you’ve successfully defined a vague version of the feeling this phase causes.
There are questions that pop into my mind as I wait.

Why? Why stick with this for so long? Why put up with the unpredictable creative process - especially when there’s no guarantee for success or even a finished product?

There’s a feeling in this that I will never be able to explain. Instead, I can only urge you to try. Because when you type the last word of your first draft, or look at the collage of symbols you’ve built or even smile at the nice paint job you’ve done, there’s a sense of victory. A click of completion. It’s a mixture of all the things you’ve felt during the process with the cherry on top that tastes of “I completed something big. I finished the journey. I’ve made something.”
Something both part of me and separate.


Thank you so much for posting here, Nicole--your writing is beautiful :)

Don't forget to also check out Nicole on INSTAGRAM

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