The creative feels

The creative feels

I’ve never considered myself the creative type. I’m more your analytical process nazi where things are black or white. Though saying this, there has often been a creative role in my jobs and, as much as I’ve enjoyed those roles, creativity has not come naturally. I always feel like I am trying harder than others with a less astounding result.

I have though always had the odd urge to do something creative. To create something. I’ve had this urge a lot lately. On my walks when those endorphins are amping, I feel like something is trapped inside me that I desperately need to let out.

With an urge so strong I feel like I should know what to do with it. I should know how to free it. I pull out my camera and start snapping. I grab one or all of my sketch pads and stare at them. I pull out my paints and start dabbing and brushing. I open my app and start blogging. My journal and start writing. None of this satisfies my urge.

I feel like I need something else. A giant wall and an array of paints with brushes, sponges, just my hands to grab the paint and throw it. It’s like an energy that my whole body needs to exert. Like cities of little minions inside me who are busting to do their thing. Each different but the same.

Am I possessed? If so, I very much look forward to hanging out with the others.

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