Inspiration for the Creative: Push Yourself

 

[Editor’s Note: This is a guest post by veteran Diva Fran Thring. Today she’s sharing a poem that dares creative individuals to take a look at their approach to their craft. Thanks for coming back, Fran!]

As a creative individual, I often find myself frustrated with my work. I feel as if it is not making the impact I wish it would. I think perhaps a large part of this common frustration found in the creative life is the cocoon of comfort we envelop around our everyday.

We go to work, complain about the rain and come home to our snug apartments. Day after day, after day.

I wrote this poem as a challenge to myself and the artist in you. I believe we were created to serve a God who folds mountains and yet desperately yearns for the human heart. If your art is stale, maybe it’s because you play too safe.

For me, I’ve found when I live life in its gutters, when I’m unafraid of different and when I say “yes, why not?” inspiration finds me like a tired homing pigeon fluttering home.

Here is my poem. It’s titled “The Creative Who Sold”

THE CREATIVE WHO SOLD

The carpets are thick in the Apartment on Old
the kitchen has magnets and photos I’m told.
A man sits at a table varnished brown burnished bright
he stares at his paper which flickers winsome white.

The man picks up his coffee
wriggles his toes on the rug
the inspiration he seeks gives a half hearted shrug.

He looks out of his window
taps his pen on the page
A word, please, dear God,
I ask- “just a phrase!”

The man stares out the window
through the blinds that sag down
On the pavement below scrambles a jostling town
It runs and it ravages and it reeks of revenge
but the man doesn’t know that, it’s silent his end.

He stands in a hurry, gets a blanket, “I’m cold,”
He stomps to the fridge. His cheese, it has mold.

Three months and a quarter his apartment is sold
We don’t want your work he heard publishers scold
You’re too bland, you’re not bold.

And the man then he knew his Apartment on Old was too cosy and careful and certifiably cold.
So he sold up his carpets and coffee and gold
Now he roams on the street where the stories unfold.

Fran Thring CreativeSpunky, empathetic and humorous- I’m a writer, thinker and sushi eater. I enjoy life. I believe when we are generous, cool things happen. Running, writing and Jesus keep me (mostly) sane. Some days I eat banana chips for dinner. Some days I drink wine with my friends while the Cape Town sunsets. Most days I change the world in a Creative Agency where we talk innovation, ideas and images. Download two free ebooks at franthring.com