Inspiration
noun
the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.
the drawing in of breath; inhalation.
The origin of the word inspiration is truly a magical one. At art school I had a rather eccentric art history teacher who told us to invoke the muses when starting a new term or project, like Homer at the beginning of the Odyssey, asking for inspiration and wisdom. There is also the concept of divine inspiration, inspiration given to you by a supernatural force or deity, a gift from a god. But let’s go back to the origin of the word. Inspiration comes from the Latin inspirare, which means ‘to breathe’ or ‘to blow into’. How beautiful is this? Inspiration as a breath of life that births an idea. Like a spark to kindle a fire. For me inspiration is like a verb, or more like an action. Inspiration feeds our imagination, so we have to feed it regularly by doing the things that light us up. When we say, ‘I’m not inspired’, we actually say, ‘I’m creatively malnourished’. We’ve let the fire burn down to the embers and we need to breathe new life onto it to so that our fire lights up again.
There are occasions in which inspiration might strike us out of the blue, but most times it’s more likely that we have to go on a hunt for it, like a magpie collecting shiny things. How and where do we start this quest, so that inspiration can lead to imagination?
Imagination
noun
the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.
the ability of the mind to be creative or resourceful.
A clue can, again, be found in the origin of the word. Imagination comes from the latin imaginari, meaning ‘to picture oneself’. This suggests that introspection and self knowledge are key in having, or creating, a rich imagination.
I think this is mostly the case for adults, as kids are naturally imaginative through pretend play and learning new things as they grow. Another clue for our quest is found here. Children are naturally curious and inquisitive about the world around them and unfortunately this is something we unlearn as adults, having to juggle jobs, finances and relationships and such. Like Picasso famously said: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”
Picturing Oneself
Nature & Magic
A good place to start on our quest for inspiration and imagination is by asking ourselves questions. Where do I come from? I am a city girl, born and raised in Leiden, the Netherlands, but next to living in the city my family and I spend our weekends and summers in nature, on a camping where everyone had their own caravan in a permanent spot. Every summer I spend six blissful weeks outside swimming, playing, making perfume out of wild roses, reading and boating on our tiny red speedboat. My mum was an avid reader with a love for all things fantasy so I grew up with stories about David de Kabouter (David the Gnome), fairies and magic. Out and about in nature or swimming my mind was always with the small folk and where they could be hiding.
My creative influences in adult life can all be traced back to a love for nature and magic. Hayao Miyazaki from Studio Ghibli is a master of combining the normal with the magical in animations like Ponyo, My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service and Howl’s Moving Castle, to name a few. In my reading I also tend to lean towards books that have a magical or mythical element to them. My latest absolute favourite is Silver in the Woods, a novella about a Green Man or Wild Man, guardian of Greenhollow Wood who speaks with dryads and guards his woods against dangerous creatures. Magical realism at it’s finest. Tove Jansson, who created the Moomins, is another big influence of mine, as is Brian Froud, illustrator of Faeries and concept artist for Jim Henson’s films Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal.
In following our curiosity to the things that excite us the most many clues can be uncovered. Which brings us to the next part of our quest.
Commonplace books
Now that we, like a magpie, have collected a few shiny clues, it’s time to go back to our nests and organise our findings.
I can’t remember when I first came across the concept of keeping a commonplace book, but I’ve kept one ever since. The commonplace book has been popular throughout history, but especially so during the Enlightenment. With the invention of the printing press and books becoming more accessible, a commonplace book was kept as a personal encyclopedia containing ideas, passages from books, observations and other information. A commonplace book is the ideal place for personal reflection and as storage for those shiny clues and insights into our creative identity. I still have mine from years ago that I flick through from time to time, making new connections and finding ideas that have been marinating in there.
Unlike a regular notebook that might be used for specific project a commonplace book is a notebook where you collect everything you find interesting, each entry seemingly random, but all together a treasure trove of clues and associations waiting to be made.
A quote by Nick White from a Cambridge summerschool lecture found in one of my old commonplace books boils the above down perfectly: “If you are interested in stuff, you will be interesting and make interesting work.”
“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
T.S. Elliot
Going on an Adventure
This, for me, is the most counterintuitive part of the creative process. I feel like I should always be behind my desk, hard at work, squeezing out the ideas and projects. Taking the day off to go to a museum to sketch, to go into the woods to befriend crows or to spend a whole day on a new hobby like paper making or embroidery, feels indulgent, like an unnecessary luxury.
In a previous blog I’ve spoken about the importance of creating a routine that firmly anchors our creative practice. When we do something consistently in a similar way, our brains will start to make connections and primes itself for the task at hand, which makes us more efficient and reduces stress. Keeping a routine is an important part of my creative practice, but in my own personal quest for structure and productivity I eventually go overboard and become stuck. This is because, next to routine and structure, I also desperately need adventure. This dichotomy creates an interesting tension in my practice, sometimes leaning towards being overly perfectionistic, uptight and inflexible, and other times leaning towards pure chaos. I try to stay away from the extremes and walk somewhere in the middle.
In a nutshell:
Ask yourself lots of questions. What lights you up? Who are your icons, your influences? What did I love when I was young and do I still love these things? Follow your curiosity.
Keep your findings in a commonplace book. Write down anything and everything you find interesting. Passages from books and movies, a piece of a conversation that you picked up on the train, notes from online classes.
Give yourself the time to explore, go on an adventure. Go explore a new city or be a tourist in your own town.
I’m off on a mission to befriend some crows. So far no luck, but I’m sticking to it! Thanks for being here, see you next time.
x Maris
Links
Brian Froud’s Faeries
The Faerie Realm
Commonplace books
Commonplace books throughout history
I'm originally a city girl but love the countryside. I find inspiration in both but maybe more nature than city these days. I think our creative identity can change? Or maybe I'm just very contrary! ;)