Creativity - A Game of Risk (but without the little plastic soldiers)

Examples of creative risk-taking.

People are scared to get down and get creative.

“Well, that's a bold, generalized statement,” I hear you saying.

But, no! It's true! Think back to those impromptu art activities high school and college teachers sprung on you unexpectedly in English or History class. They asked you to represent something visually—maybe a poster, a collage, or a display board. Maybe you were even provided with paints, glue, and old magazines. Back in kindergarten, these materials and activities would've been met with uncontrollable, squirming glee. In high school? The majority cringe and avert their eyes.

“I'm just not creative,” they say.

Last week, I accompanied my friends to a community art project at UAB's Alys Stephens Center whereby people in attendance were asked to decorate metal tiles with available art supplies (e.g. acrylic paint, Sharpie markers, paint pens, and **spray glitter**). While my comrades and I plunged into the provided materials with unchecked rapture, I saw a lot of creative wallflowers standing in the wings, awkwardly twiddling their thumbs. Many were teenagers, shying away from their peers' artistic enthusiasm. Some were fathers, resisting their wives' urging them to sit and paint with daughters or sons.

“No,” a dad said, irritation in his voice. “I just don't want to!”

“It'd just be a waste of paint!” others said, smiling sheepishly as they waved away a paintbrush.

Of course, these artistic anxieties make sense when one sits down and really thinks about it. A creative act is inherently risky business! In his book Creativity Is Forever, Gary Davis notes that when one engages in a creative act, one exposes oneself to potential failure, ridicule, and humiliation. And, once you've made it past kindergarten, it's likely that you've experienced all of these nasty feelings in response to taking a creative risk.

Yeah. You remember what I'm talking about. That really annoying kid in second grade looking over your shoulder as you doodled and shrieking, “What is that supposed to be!?” Or, maybe there was a teacher who gave you a C- on a creative writing piece you worked really hard on? Or maybe that poem you submitted to the literary journal was laughed at before being rejected? Whatever is was, something back there in your past made you adverse to taking risks and getting your hands dirty. Especially in front of a crowd.

Other people's eyes, really, are the problem. Recently, I wrote a piece to enter in the competition for Emily Suess's Writer's week. When I saw the 50 odd prompts, I got really excited. I immediately picked a prompt and wrote and wrote and wrote. Then, upon finishing my short story, I realized that entering the contest meant publishing the piece on my blog! When I read that particular stipulation, I immediately got all cagey and weird. Maybe even slightly nauseated. I didn't want to enter my piece anymore.

I had thought we were supposed to email the submission directly to the judges. I didn't want just anyone to read my work!

“But, wait,” I thought. “Isn't that the point of being a writer? That 'just anyone' can stumble upon a magazine, book, newspaper, or blog and read what you wrote?”

And, of course, my inner voice was right (my inner voice is way more ballsy than my outside voice). Because being creative means being exposed. For better or worse. So, I took a deep breath and pressed “publish.” More importantly, I pressed “publish” despite the fact that my story contains a girl urinating into a Ziploc baggie while being trapped in an elevator.

Because one only gets so many chances to paint an oddball picture, write a weird blog post, or compose a silly story. And, I intend to take as many of those chances as possible.

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What about you? How do you deal with the anxieties creative risk-taking brings along?