All good creatives are outcasts. Rejects. Nerds, losers, punks, nobodies. And I say that with love. We are insecure, lonely, emotional, aloof, loud, silent, sensitive, possessive, passionate, demented, needy, anxious, and self deprecating. But it could be worse. We could be normal.
We could work every day 9-5 in a beige office with cream desks inside sterile cubicles. We could be in stable, routine based relationships. We could support the local sports team and have lots to say about the recent weather patterns. We could drink lite beer, because what’s the difference, and sit in the same chair every night to watch the same late night talk show. We could ruffle zero feathers, talk to our mothers calmly and peacefully every day, we could be happy. We could be content. We could be complacent. We could be numb.
Instead, we are unpredictable. We are up and down and up again before we even get out of bed. We are at once motivated and debilitated by praise or rejection. We are simultaneously wide open and completely closed off. We seek out the new and exciting and different. We are never satisfied. We push and we pull and we take and we give and nothing is ever balanced the way we want it to be.
And it’s exhilarating. After all, that is what we are collecting, yes? The little moments that make everything worth it? The tiny pieces of life that you can fold away and use later? Add more fuel to that brain fire. It’s what keeps us moving. That search for the next big thing. The next great campaign idea, painting concept, lighting composition, lyric, melody, movement, theory, plot line. We must roll on before we rock.
Roll through that pain, suffering, heartache, loneliness, all that bummer shit, that’s what makes art. Without it, shakespeare couldn’t have written much of anything. Picasso wouldn’t have painted anything during his blue period. And Alanis Morisette, well we all know her songs are garbage now that she’s “happy” or whatever.
We may not belong anywhere, we may not fit in, we may never be normal. But who wants to be normal? Normality is boring. We’re too smart to be normal.
Stay weird, my friends.