TALENT? Yes, Talent!

            We’re always a little suspect of our own talent.  You can try hard, write your ass off but you still fear that people are gonna catch you at - figure out that you’re tap dancing as hard as you can, just to get by.  Most of us want to offer the world something. There are countless writing prompts, classes, scams - all designed to take your money (& dreams) and waste your efforts. Just write!  There are dozens of the same for musicians. Just write and play. There’s even one I see all the time, to perfect your doddles - and lead you into the lucrative world of Internet Doodling - then, apparently you can get rich offering your own course. Not to mention the availability of endless crafts from knitting and needlepoint to adult coloring books and stamping - all from the safety of your living room couch. Just Create!

            But most of us - myself included - so I can speak for the group, are ashamed by our attempt. Embarrassed by our efforts to create something beautiful.  I have used, from time to time, used a pseudonym - allowing me to separate my feelings from the work. Oh, they’re not judging me, it’s some unknown guy - which is, perhaps what I find so appealing about Script Doctoring.  The best piece of advice I ever read - btw, Rule #1, Don’t Listen to Advice - was from Anne Lamott, who wrote “the single most subversive, revolutionary thing I could do was to show up for my life, and not be ashamed.”  Be subversive. Be Revolutionary with your art. Rise up and make your presence known.

            We all suffer from the shame of being creative - all writers and artists, but mostly poets.  Because poetry is often dismissed.  The poet Nayyirah Waheed, noted once that “every day we are asked to be ashamed” of our creativity.  “Art gives you permission to translate life. Exactly the way you feel. See. and hear it. Be the artist you are. Give yourself permission to speak your own language.”

            A recent encounter with an unscrupulous publisher had me reconsidering if any of this was worth it. Ultimately my conclusion was “Fuck ‘em.”  if nothing else, writing clears my head and soothes my soul. But do I want to bother trying to publish? Bukowski left stacks with his agent to be published after his death. But there is a debt that I owe in writing poems - without ego or shame - they need to be read. A point made to me by Ethan Hawke.  Not long ago, I came across his TED Talk discussing creativity - I know, I thought the same thing - TED Talks are Economists and Physicists and that 21^st Century snake oil salesmen - the “Self-Help Guru.”  Yet there I was listening to an actor - an accomplished songwriter/poet/director talk about the “the vital role of creativity” - it’s healing ability and the role of poetry in our collected human experience. “Art is not a luxury, it’s sustenance.”  He reminded me that “most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry - until they’re desperate to make some sense out of their lives.” It’s my job to play the fool - which I’m good at that, so there - and to captivate my audience.

            At times, I’ll miss the mark and fail, but Hawke reminded me of something, “It’s not up to us, if anything we do is any good or not -- if history has taught us anything, it's the world is a very unreliable critic.” True, just look to the uninspired dreck that get rebooted for the lowest of common, there’s no accounting for taste.  Now, with many apologies to TED, for the numerous permission violations here and with gracious thanks to Hawke - I owe you a beer for this one - I urge everyone feeling down about their creativity to go look for this TED Talk - or, read one of my poems.

            Comforted and reassured, by the above, it’s safe to say, the words will continue to echo in my head and I won’t be shamed to transcribe them for you. I’ll be your heart. I’ll be your anger. I’ll be that voice in the darkness. Sometimes sincere, other times self-deprecating, but most of all, I’ll be your fool. I will speak my own language and I’ll make my presence known. And if somewhere along the line, I stumble across your truth, I’ll wink, swear I planned it that way and invite you to continue the ride with me. Peace.