Remember when I used to make altered-Polaroids?
Remember when I used to be obsessed
with making moleskin collages?
Remember when I used to shoot Polaroids all the time?
Remember when I used to live for taking pictures of graffiti?
Remember when I used to drag myself
out to South Beach to photograph sunrises?
Remember when I used to be creative? I don't. It's been so long since I've felt any semblance of creativity. I used to feel like creativity oozed from my pores. Everything I created always came natural to me. Every single collage I put together just flowed from within me. Every single photograph and Polaroid I shot came 100% naturally to me. I always felt a desire to photograph and create. I needed to create. I was driven to create. I wanted to create. I didn't feel like myself unless a camera was in my hand, constantly shooting. Even without a camera, I always used to feel like my mind was constantly taking mental pictures of every aspect of my life, always taking mental pictures and notes for things to create later. My mind was constantly overflowing with ideas for photos and Polaroids and collages that I wanted to create. And then one day, without warning it all stopped.
What changed in my life to make it all stop?? I simply fell in love with my soul mate. Could it be that my desire to create was taken away because for the first time in my life, my heart was full and happy and satisfied? Could it be that I was/am only capable of being creative when my heart is not at peace and only when full of torment? This is the only reason I can think of for my utter lack of creativity. If this is not the reason, then what is it?
What is causing my complete lack of desire, motivation or ambition to create? What is causing this awful rut? It's been about two years since I've felt any creative or artistic feelings. I miss the internal drive to want and need to be artistic. It's like everything about me that was ever artsy has suddenly disappeared. Is this what writers block feels like? Is this what it feels like when a writer stares at an empty page? Is this what it feels like when a composer can't think of another note or lyric? Is this what it feels like when a painter can do nothing more than stare at an empty canvas? Whatever this is, I don't like it and I wish I knew what to do to change it.
I want to create again. I want to remember what it's like to be creative again.