Even When It Hurts
To me creativity–by its nature–is a self soothing activity. Or the flip side—a self reward. Our creativity is what carries us through, or often up and out of, hard times in our lives. It can be the emotional equivalent of a life vest once you’ve been thrown overboard into an angry sea.
Sounds pretty dramatic, yes? Well, that’s the point. Creativity taps into everything that’s going on with the artist at any given time. Joy, sadness, hardship, celebration, love, hate and everything in between. Our creativity is steeped in the emotions of our current life experience.
So it seems odd that I’d say a book called Angry Sex was my emotional lifeline for a few rough months. Or maybe it doesn’t. Either way, it’s a true statement.
My character blossomed out of my own real life experience from the end of last year. Writing the book was my saving grace from an emotional state of near rage. A lot of anger. A ton of sadness. And worst for me, a feeling of frustration and ineptitude that was humbling. I wrote that book to keep from hurting. And sometimes I wrote that book despite the fact that the writing hurt me. That was fine by me. It kept the bigness of my fear and worry contained. It put it in a box when I needed it most. And it gave me a place to run when the problem felt too large.
Sounds like a lot of stuff behind a single book about basically using sex as therapy. But there were things in my life that were not happening *to* me, but a person I love more than myself, to be honest. My feelings of frustration and pure unadulterated anger were overwhelming.
So I wrote the book. My anger became the impetus for my creativity and on the flip side, my creativity became my solace during a rough period. Which is how it should be, at least in my humble opinion.
Who we are colors, shades and shapes our work and if you look close enough you will see veins of me in everything I write. Because I’m in the marrow of my work and it in me. Even when it hurts.