“The conception of each star was at the point of no return; of a desperate soul struggling to master the winds!”
― C. JoyBell C.
As an artist and writer I often get asked the question: Where do you get your ideas from? or Where do you find inspiration?
Well, art isn’t a cut and dry subject. In fact the very nature of inspiration, ideas and muse are quite complex and even paradoxical no matter what reference they’re assigned to.
Where does the business man get his motivation from?
Where does a nurse get his or her passion from?
Where does a mathematician find his sense of purpose, his need to solve or create complex problems, questions or ideas?
The answer lives strictly in the individual sphere. And even if I could explain the very nature of muse, it wouldn’t always be transferable to another. For example, here at the link below artist David Limrite writes about the various yet simple ways in which he acquires or drums out his ideas.
His answers are unique to his personal experience, as they should be for all of us. What I can answer personally, or elude to, is that sometimes inspiration isn’t needed.
How is this possible? Aren’t all great works of art somehow inspired by something else?
No, not always. And quite possibly, not even half of the time.
The inner domain of the artist is a very creative place. Sometimes, it is out of this simple and basic desire to create something that we all begin our work. We feel a calling, an urge, a push from a divine inner force or what have you. Sometimes, it’s just an itch that needs to be scratched.
I want to create things because I can. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.
Often, yes, I’m inspired by a certain image that I come across. Other times I read something that makes me think beyond the box, or strikes my heart a certain way. I could even hear a song and be inspired by the lyrics or even by the tempo. But all of this is but cake for a creative spirit.
We, as truly creative beings, need no inspiration to create. We are motivated by an unseen realm of forces. These are the thunderstorms that rise from within and purge from our fingertips. They cannot be controlled, but they can be directed.
We need no reason, and we do not ask why.
If you ask a climber why he climbs a mountain, he’ll probably tell you simply because it’s there. And so it goes with art. We create because it’s there, because if we don’t we feel silenced, unfulfilled and empty. We feel the rumble of our creative voice stifled from within, and this cannot be. For any artist, it will not sit still.
We all have a voice within that longs to be heard and shared with the world. But sometimes, we long to hear our own voice, the ancient vernacular of the soul. It is within this primordial need that we find the first form and uttering of the artist.
Just as a child bellows out his first cry, only to hear himself, so we too cry out to the world to hear the same.