January 2023
This week I listened to a podcast where Kazuo Ishiguro, British novelist, was talking about his writing process and he said something which I kept thinking about.
He mentioned that he has all “these ideas that need to be expressed and that I realised I had to be the conduit in which to make them come alive – otherwise they’d just stay with me.”
He didn’t say those exact words but overall the sentiment was that he needed to find ways for creative expression or otherwise, they’d never come to fruition.
This quote made me sad in a way.
I walked around the park and pondered what he said – I knew exactly what he meant.
It’s a BIG thing to realise (like I have) that I am unable to express my creativity in some way without being frustrated by the METHOD or the PROCESS of it.
That is, if I was a poet, I could write it in a poem and express my emotions in well selected words.
If I was a songwriter, I’d do the same in lyrics or music.
If I was able to write well, I could write it as a story.
If I was an artist, I’d be able to draw my ideas.
What happens though, is that I’m good at nothing – jack of all trades, master of none – and when I sit down to try, it comes out stunted in some way. Fractured.
The ESSENCE of what I’m trying to convey isn’t there.
A true creative brings out that essence in their art/craft/skill. They live and breathe it. It’s as if their work becomes alive because it moves us.
Meanwhile I get pen to paper, my drawings are childlike and crude.
My writing is simple which doesn’t convey the depth of my feelings and emotions because I don’t have the knack of making words come alive. (This came out when I tried my hand at writing fiction: The Despatch Driver for the My Brother Jack Awards). Most of all, my writing is too egocentric. I need to make it about me but not make it about me – make it instead, about characters who come alive through their own emotions, feelings, situations and environments but I am all those characters in some way as I’m the one writing them and bringing them alive.
As a result, I get frustrated. I have whole immense stories floating around in my mind. All unexpressed. All will have no life – and it’s such a waste.
For example, I play a piece of music and I have entire scenes created in my head as to how that music would fit that scene if it were a movie. I can see it all in my head – the characters, the story, the shots, the dialogue. Everything. Afterwards, I feel a tad bereft. Sad that all these stories in my head will remain just that – IDEAS.
I’m unable to breathe life and make them come alive because I am limited by my poor language, art, music, poetic skills. What I create is such a POOR imitation to what is in my head – nothing is as frustrating – and sad as that.
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