I wish I could say I pursue all of my hobbies regularly, but the truth is, I go through phases. Intense phases. Obsessive phases. Some things stick. Other things end up just passing curiosities, like the time I kept a colony of fire ants, or the time I may or may not have allegedly grown marijuana plants from seed to harvest, for no apparent reason other than "why not?". OK I like weed sometimes, but still.
Of course, I know I'm not alone in this behavioral pattern. A good friend of mine is currently in the depths of a music synthesizer obsession, and I fear he may eventually succumb to the wrath of Vitamin D deficiency. I embrace this lifestyle, which some may view as childish and bipolar, even selfish and irresponsible, but I've seen the opposite and it's pitiful. Usually the result of dysfunctional relationships but that's a can of worms I ain't about to open.
Prolific creative vigor. That's gold dust. Sure, some people find it hard to motivate themselves to do anything, but the most precious form of motivation, and the hardest to manifest on demand, is pure creativity.
Obsession is a great source of motivation, but it can die as spontaneously as it arises, and there's no guarantee that the fruits of obsession will be more spectacular than a well planned grind. I was obsessed with baking for a time. And I still sucked. Don't put ketchup in your pastry, people. You're making cupcakes, not modern art.
Money, of course, can motivate, but it tends to motivate work, rather than pure creativity. Status and recognition. That's something most of us would like more of, whether we admit it or not. Be it a compliment from a parent or peer, or a longer term goal of wide acclaim, none of us are immune to the allure of validation, but can the anticipation of judgement pervert the course of our creative journey?
Back to these transient hobbies, and the whole point of this meandering textual slime-barf. There were, over the years, moments of real creativity, resulting in work that I actually didn't hate. If I could bottle my brain juice during those moments, I would, and I'd drink that shit err day. But let's be honest, prolific creativity requires a set of conditions to be, just so. You can encourage it, but you can't force it. I pity the fool who has to do creative work to a deadline. They have to literally pillage their own paradoxically reluctant brains, A mind-fuck in the truest sense of the (hyphenated?) word.
I believe one of the keys to prolific creativity is in fact, moderation. Healthy and enduring intrinsic motivation doesn't come from sitting at a computer and waiting for it to happen. Nor does it come from drugs. If spliffs and booze are the sugar of the creative marathon, what's the low GI power food that leaves the sprinters in the dust? Reality is the answer, in my experience. Get out of the house. Exercise, socialize, fraternize, or whatever floats your boat. Just don't sit at home waiting for inspiration to strike. Your mind and body are like soda bottles that need a bit of shaking up to get that fizzy-jizzy creativity spurt. Yes, that was a simultaneous drink and masturbation analogy. It's late here. In fact, it's midnight here and my motivation is waning....
OK, now it looks like I decided to stop writing, when I mentioned masturbation. It's genuinely late here. Check the time stamp thing. Fuck. Now I'm thinking out loud. Is this creativity? Is anyone going to read this article to the very end?
sigh
Time for bed. I mean, time to sleep.