Tag Archives: creator

How to kill an artist

There is a broken bridge in the creative heavens

Where creators steal other worlds

Make them their own and change things

Make them straight when they ought to be curled

It’s a tragedy to see it

When a creator can’t create

For they need to take another’s work

To put food on their plates

How proud do they feel when they do it?

Does it feed their soul?

I live in doubt of the truth of that

If I may be so bold?

How hungry is the creator who takes another’s art?

How starved and deranged are they? 

If they could eat another’s heart!

For I have seen it happen

The scope of vicious duels

Of two creators in battle

For one who won’t use their tools

And I have seen the tragedies it causes in their lives

As depression rips them soundly, as though they’re stabbed with knives

They can’t live with what they do and they know it’s wrong and bad

But they can’t help it really and that’s what makes it sad

To kill another artist for the want of fame and gold

It pounds reality into me

And makes my blood run cold

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A soulless tragedy

In my heart and mind I am many things

Which I’m not you see

Because I only act a little part of me

For people don’t like others who are bright and bold and brave

Who think they are better people

So they seek to berate and scathe

Yet look inside my heart and soul and you will surely see

All the people locked inside, the people who are truly me!

I am an empress and I rule with an iron might

My tongue commands great armies and send enemies into flight

But I am also a bird that flies up high and it is truly free

To sing any song she wishes, who dares to silence me?

I am the wind which blows at you, air both hot and cold

And sweeps you off your feet sometimes and lose my self-control

And like an angel I am mild and meek, I will care with tender love

And often I will mediate for peace just like the blessed dove

I am a monster and I am fierce, you don’t want to bother me

And I shall tickle you with bites, just like a little flea

I am flash and I am loud, yet I am dull and quiet too

I am many people you know and don’t, you really have no clue

For I am hidden within myself, I am ashamed you see

To show you who I really am

And what I could be

Though mostly I am a creator

I make worlds with words and paint

I create people and creatures too and I do so without restraint

I create vast worlds for your mind to explore

And all I wish for you is for you to adore

And live within these worlds of mine within your very mind

And love it with all your heart and inspiration find

So you too can create like me, your own little universe

And write good poems, songs and stories and a little verse

So you can feel important too and like you have a place

And ignore all the haters who try to stop you with disgrace

Because one thing that is true and clear

The arts are important my dear

For without it we inhuman be

And soulless we will live in tragedy

And never more shall we love each little gem we find

For our hearts will be black and cold

Because we’ve lost our mind

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To imagination I commit

I create words and dreams

I inspire and trigger

I paint and scribble

I have no quibble

To do what I do

For me

For you

I colour

I talk

I dream

I walk

I am that I am

And nothing more

What do you need an explanation for?

I am me

And this is it

A simple creator

To imagination I commit

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Synchronised post

I yearn to do a lot of art and what is strange is, just as I wrote those first eight words, I paused because the TV said “You have what it takes to be a great creator” weird coincidence, but I digress.

I want to make art doesn’t seem right, it is more than that – it’s becoming a need.  I want to write my stories too, but making art is a deeper pull for me right now.

I’ve kind of found my style, I believe.

In the past few days I have been practising art and I am feeling happier for it.

When I was a child I was obsessed with what my teacher called “cutting and pasting” but I realised recently, it was actually collaging.

This is very strange, the TV just spoke about “finding your inner child” just as I spoke about a childhood memory, you know – the synchronicities happening in my life lately is driving me bonkers, I am bombarded by so many of them lately!

Paul has noticed it too, noticed the TV or the radio appearing to be on the same wavelength as my conversations with him, particularly when those conversations are about seeking a new relationship or doing anything with regards to creative pursuits.

Anyway, I digressed again.

I have decided to throw myself into junk journaling, abstract conceptualism and collaging, mixed media art that sort of thing.

I started to follow several people on Instagram for art, the people I follow on YouTube mostly and somebody there sent me a private message and noted that I have this blog and wondered why I only post up facial pictures of myself and not my art.  I didn’t really think about that before they mentioned it, because most of the time I post my art on DeviantArt – but I am considering adding them on Instagram.

Problem is that I don’t have a very good head for technology and a lot of the photos I put on my Instagram get cropped by Instagram in annoying ways and I don’t understand it – so most of the pictures I want to put up get deleted because Instagram did a boo boo.

If you get me?

I will try again in the future, so there’s a heads up for you…

Thanks for reading!

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Reading, Writing and Psychotic Creators

I am most unusual for a fantasy, sci-fi and horror fans for the fact that I don’t actually read or watch much of the big famous stuff like Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Angel, Being Human, 24, etc.

I don’t do it on purpose, it is almost always accidental or because something has got into the way of me being able to watch or read it, finances or simply not having access to a certain television channel or the time to watch copious amounts of TV in general.  I am also unusual for modern humanity in general, I watch approximately six hours of television a week and that is about it, unless of course it is a special occasion, such as Spring Watch and the other Watch programs or the BBC Proms, Crufts or the RHS shows.  Then you have to consider I don’t watch a lot of what I want to watch because I sometimes lose my hearing completely due to an ear disease I have and regular infections.

I am also an extremely slow reader.  An average reader reads at the rate of 250 words a minute, I can barely read 180 words a minute, 150 words a minute ensures I comprehend at least 73% of what I’ve read and can relay it, and I’ve done an online test for that.  http://www.readingsoft.com/index.html#results

All of this is strange because when I read non-fiction I must faster and I have a better comprehension rate, I can read about 300 words per minute with a comprehension of 84%, but I can understand it – when I read fiction I visualise too much, like I am watching a movie, I read it with a voice in my head; when I read non-fiction the voice goes and I more or less skim read but I actually remember what I am reading more.

Anyway the cusp of the subject for this post is that I am not well versed in the subjects I love the most simply because I don’t read as much as the average fan of those genres, or at least what I do read are very obscure to present fans of those genres because they are from authors who are hardly known or were a big thing in the Victorian age or the 60s, 70s and 80s. 

I tend to stumble upon movies and forgotten television series that had flopped, sank or got axed due to lack of interest from the public or were simply rated as B movies.  So after talking to several fans of these genres about what I love the most, they often say to me “So you really love crap then huh”?  This hurts, because I find those so called B movies more diverse and fresh than the big stuff.  OK the acting is often poor along with the special effects but the imagination for bigger things is there, but the average observer doesn’t see that, especially if they are not creatively inclined.

For me, a lot of my ideas come from these forgotten (or tucked away in shame) shores.  Told this, those people who know me can’t understand how my work is as good as it is, they say to me “but surely if you fill your brain with such rubbish you will produce rubbish, I think you should lay off these things in case it starts polluting away your actual talent”.  I feel flattered for that, but I also feel that if I started to read and watch the more popular big stuff, then I will start to look like everyone else and I won’t come across as fresh.

Now, I have had almost an instinctive inclination to NEVER read or watch certain fantasies especially.  I never knew why my instinct acts up whenever I try to read a handful of the big stuff, but it became clear to me in the last couple of days when I actually ignored this instinct and decided to read the first book in The Game of Thrones.  I am only 76 pages in and I have almost lost the will to continue the 2 fantasy novel ideas I had because there are 7 major things in this book that matches exactly what I have been writing for the last decade, even down to names and clothing descriptions.  Now I am trying to sit myself down and talk to my inner creator rationally about how it is not such a big thing because those are just names and names of events etc. the actual idea is not going to be copyright invasion because it is going to be a very different story, but my inner creator hasn’t stopped whining about this yet.  My inner creator was sure that I may have accidentally slipped up online a few years ago about my plans, but I had to remind my inner creator that this book was published when we were 17 and we only started on our idea when we was around 21.  I do have to treat my creator self as though I am a separate person because this is how I cope with it all, so excuse me if I sound a little you know… psychotic. 

I have an idea so far into the book that is a similar story to the war of the roses but with a fantasy twist, this is how Game of Thrones looks to me so far.  My story isn’t like that, my story is much different, yes there are royals and there is war, but the factions are not warring against themselves, families are not warring with each other if they are blood related, there is a different factor.  I am also trying to tell my inner creator the idea of the 12 banners I had can still be effective, because in ancient Earth cultures every clan had a war banner, this is not going to harm my novel or our reputation at all.  But she still panics.

When you want to be a writer you have to separate yourself from your work to maintain some sort of sanity and control over your initial tantrums, your initial emotions, you have to sort of step outside of yourself and talk to yourself like you are somebody else.  If you struggle in doing this, then these sorts of things will consistently stop you from writing and you will not finish anything; because you throw your novel across the room in a fit of rage about the unfairness of the world and sulk for the rest of your life about it, whereas it is totally unnecessary because your book will be very different.  If you sit back and view the whole situation as a second person, you will rationalise it all and be able to continue the work you love.

I have had such irrational things spout out of my inner creators mouth that I had to more or less act like a patient psychiatrist to my inner creator and say to them… “Look, how can this be so?  The author who has stolen your BIG idea died in 1886” see how irrational your inner creator can get sometimes?

Just write whatever you want to, don’t worry about copying someone else or having someone else copy you, because you need to get over this first draft, then you can weed these similarities out.  The first draft doesn’t really matter that much, because there will be many, many drafts after it before it is polished.  That is how you can write and finish your book.

Also, if you need more convincing on this matter please read this book “Big Magic” by Elizabeth Gilbert, I consider her a genius on this kind of stuff.  Elizabeth Gilbert tells us that ideas are alive, they have a spirit of their own, they go from person to person looking for someone to write about them but sometimes the ideas are not happy with the result so they go on and on until they feel perfected by someone and oftentimes many people will get the same idea at the same time, but all of them with their individualities will be slightly different to each other.  No one can be 100% identical in the way you write, what you write, how you write it, how the ideas came to you and how others are going to feel about the work. 

Yes there are coincidences in the world, this is a world of constant coincidences and that is all it is “Coincidence”, synchronising a little from other brain waves, but never being 100% the same, just similar and you can’t get sued for being a little bit similar, unless of course you have copious amounts of sentences in your book which matches people identically, but that’s a different subject for a different time.

So stop procrastinating by reading this post and get on with your work.

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I do write a lot actually… honest!

Quite a lot of the things I write day to day are in my mind, rubbish and unpublishable, however, by maintaining that stance on the things I do write, it has made my blog seem inactive and me as a writer inactive.  I actually do on average blow out more than 700 words per day just ranting at myself or brainstorming, some of the things are actually rather interesting to a few people apparently.  The things I generally write about are things I have researched in books or on programs etcetera, how they play in my mind and little quirks I think up.  Sometimes I write lazy and incredibly short stories under 500 words which will never be seen unless I put them on the blog – so I decided, well what is the harm?  Why not share this rubbish with people?  I have heard that what a creator thinks is rubbish turns out to be their best work by and large.

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Creators Poem

I hold the moon and billions of suns in my hands, I love their endless glowing.
They shine gold and silver and blue and red and white and everything is on a wing, floating in my hands
And only I can hear them sing
I am veiled in midnight blue; I hold these wonders in my hands
I whisper life to everything, it is I who commands
I drift off gently in my sleep, careful not to drop them
My beautiful little jewels of life
I each day attend

 

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Who am I?

Know me and the way I am,

I am the ocean,

I am the sands

 I am the sky

 I am the birds,

I am the beast

 I am all words.

I can love and I can hate,

I can kill and create,

I am something and I am not,

I am cold and I am hot.

I am life and I am death,

I am the wine,

I am the bread.

I am wet and I am dry,

I am the hills,

who am I?..…God!

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I am forever says the phoenix

I cry out to the universe to the ones who created my spirit

Agonizingly my words are framed

Meticulously I chose my words

Freedom will end my pain

Officiously I feel

Remote and alone

Everlasting tears flooding me

Vehemently I roam

Equivocally I provoke the ones, who keep me in their care

Respectively I love them, but loved ones beware

Someday I might leave you

Apparently this is true

Young or old I’ll burn up

Spirit will renew

The phoenix is always forever

Here and there it flies

Everyone will grieve if they think that I have died

Phoenixes need revival

Horrible but it’s true

Obnoxiously it will break hearts

Extremely sorry to hurt you

Never fear my darlings

I forever live

X marks the spot, I hope you will forgive?

 

 

 

 

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paradise streams

I take the night by the hand and away in dreams I go

Following the footsteps of a forgotten road

Feeding my mind with wonders of the night

Dreaming of a land where my hopes come to light

I can’t see an ending to my story

My life of eternity is full of glory

I cannot be alone when I’ve come to paradise

And I can see that my heart’s wishes come to me in afterlife

I cannot be afraid when I have so many hands guiding me to the light

And when I’ve had enough of life I can say goodnight

Because you’re not alone, in a land where angels fly

You’re not alone, in a place you’ll never die

You’re not alone when you’re by your loved ones

And you’re not alone when you’re with your maker

Come on be a taker of this life, dream life

Dream away your world of sorrows

Maybe you’ll be in paradise tomorrow, and then you can say

Have faith

And know, what you’re talking about, go ahead and shout it out now you’re free

Come away with me

I long for you, to smother me in your glee

And I will hold your hand and take you to that land of dreams

Sweet dreams

Paradise streams

Is the theme

 This song probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to people, but I hoped that some people viewed the song as a person whose falling into a dream world which they confused as heaven and is encouraging others around them to become more susceptible to imagination.  But I guess the lyrics could be read wrong by many.  I didn’t revise this song at all, so I am not expecting good reviews, it’s just a song I had to write down as it came as it kept repeating in my head driving me crazy, saying WRITE ME NOW!

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