Isolation Gestates the Gifts of the Artist
Gestating in Creation’s Call
The creative process is very similar to the gestation process of human life. Think about it for a moment: you receive a download of some sort to create; an urge or desire, logical or illogical, and depending on how willing you are to yield into the power of creation’s call, you birth from a place of darkness, mystery, and isolation. Regardless of the perceived support around you, the process is reclusive.
Like an expectant mother carrying a seed for the first time, you may experience feelings of anxiety, joy, nervousness, awe, and self-criticism. While we are aware that two entities are needed for co-creation, how you birth what you carry is primarily dependent on you. Only you can feel your seed burgeoning and becoming in a way that no one else could ever understand. They may bear witness to the result, but you know intimately well the process of being alone with that in which you carry.
While “carrying”, isolation is often necessary to silence the noise of the external world to retreat to the inner realm where seeds can be nourished and brought forth into existence. The irony is that isolation usually comes in times when we least expect it to. Many births are not even planned. Sometimes the magnetism of co-creation is so alluring that we lose all inhibitions. We give in, and surrender to creation’s call, often to fulfill a purpose that we are not even aware of.
When I attended Oprah’s 2020 tour: Your Life in Focus before the pandemic, she shared her story about how her mother was pursued solely based upon the skirt that she was wearing the day she was impregnated. She said that her father had no intentions on loving her mother, and the interaction was driven by lust alone. Furthermore, she went on to state that they copulated just that one time, and that is how she was conceived. Hence, an unplanned and isolated birthing experience; however, without the seed that would later become Oprah, the world wouldn’t be the same as we know it today. So the allure and surrender into darkness, intentionally or unintentionally always serves a greater purpose in the process of creation.
Riding the wave of Circumstance
Some of the world’s most renowned creatives and artists have created masterpieces in solitude, not because they wanted to be alone, but because circumstances beyond their control merged them into isolation. While isolation is no stranger to insanity, it is juxtaposed by its rich fertility. Mozart was alone and heard music in the silence. Maya Angelou was alone and understood why the caged bird sings. Einstein discovered the theory of relativity in the quietude of time. Robin Williams, the late actor, was married, felt alone, and committed suicide. Frida Kahlo stated, “I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone.” These artists are obviously very different from one another, but they share profound moments of isolation. Some are tragic and some triumphant, but it is clear that every artist at some point, finds themselves in a dark place; thus, isolation in the creative process is the by product of pain waiting to be transformed.
Alone in a Pandemic
The circumstances of Covid has shown me just how critical it is to surrender into moments of solitude, not only for my well being and sense of “recharge,” but for birthing my seeds in the most authentic way. It doesn’t mean that I can’t collaborate and share my ideas, it just means that I am responsible for nurturing and loving them first. Creatives are often misunderstood, and the pain I have had to endure because someone else couldn’t see or believe in my vision, left me feeling disconnected from my creativity, which is essentially my highest self and the other entity that gives meaning to my life and personal truth.
I’ve always wanted to write, and I dream of publishing a book, but my voice has been silenced so much that I found it extremely difficult to do so. When the pandemic took the nation off its balance and the world grew silent, something within me grew louder: all the stories and characters, people, places, experiences, wisdom, fears, and pain was now bleeding through my hands.
In the solitude, my voice was the clearest I have ever heard it. My seed felt that it was finally being given the attention that it needed. It was hungry, so I fed it with my passion. It was curious, so I allowed it to take me to places where I could feel bold and unashamed about “carrying”. I was waiting on the world to support my ambitions, to see value in my seed, but my seed needed me to feel the value in it first before I could give birth to it.
Like the late greats, I’ve had my moments of insanity and deprivation during these times. I experienced bouts of depression along the way, but ironically, I was simultaneously amused. Suddenly, everything felt like a source of inspiration, and it awakened the little girl in me who just wanted to go outside and play and explore. In the solitude, my creativity exploded; it felt massive and infinite, and I am still riding the wave of it today.
Getting lost in the abyss of wild and inhibited thoughts felt like a clearing and the unknown of it all was intriguingly exhilarating. “What if I get Covid next? What if I die,” I often thought. But death is always the silent whisper penetrating our everyday reality. Every day I am dying and preparing for the ultimate death. The darkness of the pandemic showed me that I have nothing to lose. It told me that my work will speak for itself, so I yielded into the call of creation.
What did I Create?
Everything was experimental and things that I desired to do, but disregarded because of my own perceived inadequacies, (not having enough money, time, connections, knowledge, or resources) was now re-appearing like ghosts of the past. Early on in the pandemic, I would receive downloads and visual images, successions of narratives, ideas, and sensations would come to the surface. “Paint Insomnia.” So I did. “Show the nostalgia and pain of reminiscing on love and companionship.” So I directed and choregraphed a timeless dance film. “Experience being sexy,” so…well, I’ll keep that to myself! I developed a love for photography and the feminine form. I started making jewelry inspired by the cycles of life. I carried a journal and went on nature walks, and when I received a download, that illogical urge, I wrote it down and the more I looked at it, the more it began to manifest.
I needed the solitude to develop a website and community that could inspire women like me, who have been sexually abused. I needed to develop a space to see my own offering. I needed the time alone to feel the depth of my fears, insecurities, and all the ways I hold myself back. I needed the paradoxically empty space to receive the insight and wisdom of my heart. I needed the time to reignite my passion for writing. I needed the darkness of isolation to dance naked and look like a fool.
Birthing Authenticity
Great art is about knowing who you are and who you are not. We’ve been so conditioned to live in the external world, that we have forgotten that creation comes from within. We can do what’s never been done by sitting in the frequency of our own darkness. Without immersing ourselves in solitude, whether by circumstance or our own choosing, we are just mere imitators, doing what we think is acceptable, plagiarizing other narratives and diluting our own, and scurrying the fragile period of gestation that is needed to birth the authenticity of our work.
Isolation in the world of art is not a far fetched myth. Like birth, art is not free of pain. But the process in the end always proves to be worth it.
