Some say a creative mind is like delicate flowers, while others think we’re more like cats—aloof, unpredictable, and likely to knock things over for no apparent reason.
We go about our daily lives living in a bubble of imagination and wonder, while others tread the mundane path of reality. We are filled with possibilities that others can only dream of—doing great things for ourselves and others or, sometimes, not doing anything at all. It all depends on the mood, really. One moment, we might be envisioning a masterpiece, and the next, we’re contemplating the profound mysteries of why we walked into a room.
We can be as dark as the night or as bright as the morning sun, depending on which side of the bed we woke up on—or couch, sofa, floor, or occasionally, the cat’s bed. We creatives have a unique relationship with sleep. In dreams, we find the answers and stories that elude us in waking life. Also, we just love sleeping. It’s our second favorite activity after daydreaming.
For creatives, no matter your medium—artist, musician, concept writer, actor, magician, or that person who creates jokes out of thin air to lighten a room—we possess a gift that few understand, fewer nurture, and even fewer recognize for its true potential. It’s like being a superhero, but instead of capes and gadgets, we have paintbrushes, guitars, scripts, and an endless supply of coffee.
So, the next time you see someone staring off into space, don’t assume they’re lost. They might be plotting the next big thing. Or they might just be deciding between pizza or makhni chicken for dinner. It’s a thin line.
We get annoyed. And when creatives get annoyed, it’s like unleashing a swarm of bees trapped in a tiny, tiny jar. Not fun for us, but highly entertaining for anyone watching.
In a world confined by societal standards, taboos, cultures, and organizations, our imagination and possibilities feel as stifled as a cat in a cucumber patch. The confinement makes us feel suffocated, like a fish at a sushi convention. That’s why you often find creatives drawn to various forms of escapism—be it through a paintbrush, a guitar, or an endless loop of cat videos on YouTube. We’re free spirits trapped in a human world that’s swirling down the drain due to war, lack of empathy, and, more importantly, a serious deficiency in good dance moves at parties.
You might think this is some big rant, or a self-imposed tragedy painting the creative mind as a tortured soul forever stuck in a never-ending loop of existential dread. That’s okay. There’s a reason why I’m saying this. The “Diva” or “Eccentric” mindset that comes from being a creative weirdo is not a self-imposed thought manifested into reality. Every creative truly seeks to find themselves. And maybe also their car keys, which they misplaced while contemplating the deeper meaning of breakfast cereal.
For us, the world is a stage, a canvas, a song waiting to be written. We don’t just see a tree; we see a thousand stories hidden in its branches, probably involving a squirrel revolution. We don’t just hear a melody; we hear the soundtrack of a hundred unwritten films, most of them involving epic battle scenes with rubber chickens. And we don’t just smell coffee; we smell the elixir of life itself, keeping us awake and creative for just a little longer. Also, it’s coffee. Who doesn’t love coffee?
So, the next time you encounter a creative mind, remember: we’re not just quirky or eccentric for the sake of it. We’re simply navigating a world that often feels too small for our vast imaginations, like trying to fit a watermelon into a teacup. If you catch us staring into space, don’t worry—we’re not broken. We’re probably solving the mysteries of the universe.
Imagine you are an artist, a painter. You create a masterpiece—your magnum opus. You pour your very soul, blood, sweat, and tears into this canvas. It’s not just a painting; it’s a piece of you. And yet, when you proudly display it, some random passerby takes one look and says, “Yeh kya ajeeb drawing hai.” Ah, the sweet sound of artistic validation. It’s like spending hours cooking a gourmet meal only for someone to ask if it’s supposed to look like roadkill.
Worst is if you are a musician. The amount of practice and effort to make that instrument an extension of your body is like trying to merge with a stubborn cat. I used to drum with my band in a pitch-dark jam room, hoping to perfect our techniques for live gigs and not trip over the amp. Every song we performed took weeks to master, like assembling Ikea furniture with missing instructions. And then, someone hears it on Spotify and skips it within 10 seconds, deciding it’s not their vibe. It’s like pouring your heart into a love letter and having it returned for a spelling mistake.
At the end of the day, we creatives are just misunderstood geniuses, wandering through life with paint on our hands, scripts in our pockets, and a constant need to explain why our “weird drawing” is actually a deep commentary on the human condition.
So why? What drives the creative soul to keep persisting to the point of annoyance to do great things through constant trial error and failure? This article wont answer this because there is no right answer.
The simple question that people ask is “How do I become more creative?”
I would say don’t.
We are the misfits
We are the ones that stay awake at night thinking about particle theories followed by thoughts of Naruto.
We make things that others see but don’t understand
We make sounds others hear but don’t like… or do… doesn’t matter.
We create emotions out of thin air so you get goosebumps
We are the dreamers who never wake up to real life
We escape to find ourselves
We listen to heavy metal in the morning because it calms our anxiety.
We drink coffee more than water because our brain craves it.
We make those jokes others would be afraid to say.
We are the wild ones who say what we want.
We dress weird because for us that’s normal.
We create from the heart.
We breathe from the soul.
We see the world upside down, sometimes diagonally.
We break the symmetry.
We don’t change the Status Quo, we don’t even understand what it is.
We can shout in silence and don’t care if we are heard.
We hide behind the art inspired by our traumas.
We are not afraid to be seen, heard, felt, experienced.
We are the kind of people your parents warned you about when you were young.
We are creatives. We are special. We are gifted. And we are here to change the world.
Deal with it.
