Sage Bray Varon

Why do some things inspire you but do nothing for other people? Why are we drawn to such particular things? The answer to that is as complex as you are, but going beyond just recognizing what you like and digging around about why you are drawn to those very particular things can help enrich your creative work.

Think about the one thing that always draws you. For me, visually, it’s textures of disintegration—cracks, peeling paint, rusting metal, old tree bark, etc. That’s actually true about stories as I tend to write about apocalyptical times or the disintegration of relationships or beliefs. Why am I drawn to this? I am not absolutely sure, but what I can do is try to identify the emotions, words, people, places, or times that I associate with them. Then I have even more to work with.

Think about it… how often do you sit down to create something based on some single object or incident that grabbed your imagination only to get stuck because what you come up with feels too plain or too literal? You know you are enamored by this item or idea but what can you do with it or say about it?

My advice is to start with your emotions. Are you interested in it out of love, admiration, anger, distress, or…? Where is that emotion rooted? In your past? Your present? Does it remind you of your younger years or your future hopes? Did you have a personal experience where this inspiring item or occurrence played a part or is it more a wish for something you don’t have?

If identifying the emotion is too elusive, just stop and let images and memories come to mind. They will surely be associated with this source of inspiration. Do you come up with a person or place you feel connected to, or does it seem to build on an established personal interest?

Are you getting the idea? You don’t need to figure out the reason why this bit of inspiration grabbed you (although you may very well find out!) but building off what you know about yourself and your associations with it, you can add additional layers which will give you a rich and varied basket of other items to work your intention, message or theme from.

For instance, if I explore being drawn to rusty metal, I might come up with emotions such as excitement, wonder, and sadness because I do feel old things have a story to tell. The prospect of a story is exciting to me, the places it’s been and what it’s witnessed over the year pique my curiosity, but their inevitable demise, a metaphor for our own limited lifetimes, brings sadness as I am likely witnessing the end of the rusted object’s story.

Knowing about the emotions that come up around rusty objects, the reminder of their past and possible stories, and facing the inevitable demise of those object gets me from simple statements like “That’s a cool texture… I’d like to recreate that” to more complex ideas or other questions such as “What story can this texture tell and what overriding feeling can it help me to convey?”

There are so many more possibilities for design choices in that second option, that complex question. Now I can approach a visual creation with a wealth of possibilities, not just a thing I know I like.

This approach works for story, song, dance or whatever your medium is. Just ask yourself questions that force you to look deeper and wider as well as inside yourself.

Try digging down like this with your next new inspiration. Or, perhaps, dig down with an old inspiration that you don’t fully understand. You could learn some amazing things about yourself, your inspiration, and the possibilities for your work.

 

Photo by Sage Bray Varon