Most of us know that keeping a journal can be greatly beneficial to our mental health.  I have kept a journal off and on for my entire adult life.  It has been wonderful habit to have and has helped me through hardships, especially way back when I was a young adult.  Journalling was a tool I often used to get to know myself more and figure out what I wanted for myself and my future.  During times of confusion and turmoil, I’d whip out my journal and would take much time and care to write down any unpleasant incidents that occurred.  And I jotted down my feelings in order to help me process these events.  

However, I found that when things were going OK and I was not feeling down or in extreme anxiety, my journal transformed into a to-do list where I simply scribbled down items to shop for and other mundane tasks that needed accomplishing.  Or, if it was not being used as a to-do list, it stayed closed and hidden away in my desk drawer.  In short, my journal was really only a repository for my negative thoughts and feelings.  Writing was only something I used in times of trouble.  Again, I am extremely grateful that I had this aid to help me in times of need.  But I felt it would be beneficial for me to have something more, another way to note my daily life the rest of the time.  I wanted this something to help me avoid getting to that dark emotional situation where I even needed my journal to keep me out of negativity in the first place.

Do you have a practice that gives you comfort, a chance to connect with yourself, process feelings, or even bring joy despite less-than-ideal circumstances? If not, I invite you to find one, or simply do what I did and start doodling.  Who knows where it might lead?

Why am I mentioning the above, and what does it have to do with art and creativity?  

So, the point of this post?  I ask you to examine yourself to realize what kind of things help spark your curiosity.  (What kind of ideas or questions make you daydream or keep you up at night?)  I put forward the idea that maybe you’re like me, and that you may need to expand your world a little in order to find inspiration.  (What gives you the urge to try something new and poke about outside your comfort zone?)  That you may need to take action towards the things you care about in order to gain confidence and get those creative juices flowing.  (Are there issues or themes that you feel strongly about, and what unique action, small or big, will you do about them?)  Perhaps like me, you’ll need to dig a little deeper, do some hard, or silly, things, ask some weird, or uncomfortable, questions, and when you find some answers, live them.

If memory serves me well, a Continuing Education class in fiction writing I attended waaaay back when has taught me that this is the question science fiction and fantasy writers love and use most.  It is the question they ask themselves that helps spring forth new story scenarios which give birth to new characters.  These characters bring with them their unusual histories and places full of otherworldly flora and fauna.  Perhaps they come from alien environments, other dimensions, or parallel universes.  All of these can spew forth from one tiny question, “What if?”  Some of these "What Ifs" inspire stories so compelling that they move us to create our own yarns.  Some "What Ifs" create tales so beloved that we carry their messages in our hearts and minds for years and which we may pass along to the next generations.

* BTW, if you think the idea of putting cephalopods in all an artist's artwork is kinda crazy, it is!  But it has worked for one creative dude.  See https://www.jonathan-crow.com/vice-presidents  From what I understand, this guy is making pretty good cash from his “What If?”

In 2006 I took a creativity workshop at my local recreation centre.  I did not want to take this class but did so because I had a credit at the centre that was about to expire.  It was either take a course before year end or lose the money.  I signed up for the course simply because it fit my schedule.  I came to the first session with a bad attitude.  I was annoyed since I really didn’t want to be there and wished the centre policy allowed for a cash refund.  I am ashamed to say I took my frustration out on the instructor, a lovely woman with a bright smile who announced we’d be decorating masks that day.  I told her I did not want to paint a mask.  She offered me other activities to do while the rest of the students worked on their projects.  I declined them all, sat with a frown on my face and my arms crossed, then left class early.

As I walked into my home, guilt hit me.  I acted like a jerk towards the instructor (who stayed wonderful and positive despite me being less than polite).  I told myself that next week I was going to apologize and do better.  Determined that I would act like I was brought up properly, I participated in the subsequent lessons and worked on the projects without complaint.  I still thought the exercises were silly but I did them anyway.  Then a funny thing happened around day 4. In the middle of one of the projects I realized something in me shifted.  My mind was not thinking of my to do list, there was no anxiety in my being.  I was just present in that classroom, content, totally in the zone, and at that very moment did not want to be anywhere else.

Curious about my discovery, I finished the 8 week course then stayed in contact with the instructor and took more of her classes.  I also started taking other creative classes from other instructors at the rec centre: a painting workshop, improv, a photography course, creative writing, voice lessons, etc.  Taking these lessons were a way for me to come back to that presence of being and state of peace.  And that state of peace and flow for me was reached while in the midst of a creative endeavour and space.  

As I continued participating in these workshops, I started to recall similar moments of creative flow in my childhood.  In gradeschool I would hold my lunch hour storytelling club where I would tell a story I made up (usually a horror story) to a small group of classmates.  I drew comics (usually about child superheroes wearing kimonos and skipping school to fight bad guys).  I spent many blissful moments bringing my imaginings to life on paper.  Through my creative practice and a bit of talent, I won art contests with prizes like furniture and luxury hotel stays, and got a newspaper feature at 10 years old.  I even secured a guest spot on a TV show for my drawing ability.  And then things changed and I did a 180 turnabout at the age of eleven.

After I moved to Canada 12 years later, it was a new start and so my old friend creativity resurfaced again and came for a visit, convincing me things will be different this time ‘round.  I picked up my pencil and created a new comic strip that was featured in a couple ethnic papers and magazine.  But being young, new to the country and naive, I was taken advantage of.  Editors and supervisors did not pay me the money I was owed and did not publish the comic in sequence.  Not yet having developed much confidence and self-worth, I turned my back on art once more.  I was angry creativity showed itself again to shake things up.  I returned to earning my living with “normal” jobs like retail and office work for a long time.