Creativity/Creation

10 06 2011

I was watching Bjork’s performance at the Royal Opera House this morning, and admiring her stunning creativity across disciplines—I’ve always held her music, her words, and her vocal acumen in the highest of regard, but her staging and willingness to trust in collaboration are also impressive to behold—when I started to feel a thought.  Which is a heck of a thing to do, by the way, feeling a thought.  Good luck with it.  You aren’t thinking, you’re just appreciating from that zone in which you’ve read your heart should be, when suddenly you’re thinking, only you didn’t mean to start thinking.  But bam, you have an idea, and it didn’t come from your brain.

And what I was think-feeling was this:  Love is Creation.  Creation is Love.

This was a confusing feely-thinky for me, but since it didn’t really come from my brain, I decided to entertain it.  At first, I only liked it because I’ve always had a problem with love.  I know that there are people, animals, and things for which I feel severe and sincere care, and I’ve been happy to consider that love, even if I couldn’t define the parameters of such a love.  And I’ve always been a little dismayed to see how widely varying people’s ideas of romantic love is, because if we can’t agree as to the purpose and scope of a particular feeling, then it’s not an institution—that is, it isn’t a single thing known by all who experience it—and there’s no sense to saying that we are in love, because we’re really just in two loves that intersect unreliably and aren’t necessarily meaningful to one another.

But Love is Creation.  Love is any product of the use of our vast imaginations.  It’s how we build our entire world.  An idea becomes important enough to manifest, and its manifestation is a labor built entirely upon the beauty we felt in the idea.  I was thinking about this when Bjork began “All is Full of Love,” and for once, the obviousness of the situation wasn’t lost on me.  I glanced out the window, and I saw that it was an idea:  to at once shield and to permit commingling.  To separate and to keep unbroken.  It’s a beautiful idea; a form of love.

There are those of you who think I’ve really gone off the hippie-drippy deep end, and to those of you who do, I say this:  I hope you will still hang out with me when I come to town, Allison.  And you may think I’m crazy, but you’re going to agree with me one day.

Creation is Love.  Also, destruction is love, in that an idea comes to pass.  Every idea comes from a wish, a need, and enacting is always leads to purpose, even if it’s hidden from you at first. People are just strings with a lot of kinks, and everything they think and do is an effort to straighten themselves out.  Sometimes, they tie themselves in more knots, but those knots will eventually come out, just like all the ones that already exist.  It just takes effort.  It just takes more ideas and more doing.  Which is all that creation is.  And everything you do to bring yourself to that loose, carefree, complication-less state is love.

I’ll end with a Beck lyric from the album One Foot in the Grave, which I think is a pretty remarkable although not-so-obvious champion of this Creation-is-Love idea.  If you haven’t hear it, you should give it a shot.  And don’t worry about liking it or paying attention to it.  It does its work subtly.  To wit:

go where you want to
do the things you feel
walk around with a broken leg
and a hundred dollar bill

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