Writing without a topic
This is an excerpt from my journal in which I comment on creativity.
How do you write when you have nothing to convey? What is the first word that comes to mind? Which phrases follow from there to form a paragraph? Is there a wider point you are making? Are you effective at communicating it?
Writing is as much as matter of skill at the given moment as it is a reflection of one’s state of being. A competent writer needs to be in a certain mood to produce a noteworthy result. They should be feeling alright to commit to the task. Their environment and overall lifestyle must be conducive to writing.
To the reader, writing is about the production of a piece of text with some innate qualities, such as the ideas it communicates, the feelings it engenders, and the story it describes. The text provides a message and elicits a response. Readers receive the culmination of a process whose workings they are otherwise oblivious to. They do not gain insight into the prerequisite state of being.
Creativity demands focus. One has to collect their thoughts and direct their vitality towards the given task. In effect, the creative process is the channelling of energy. In so doing, the creator becomes the created, ceteris paribus, for they establish an organising principle around which their perception and ultimately their body revolves. The consistent creator is partly remade in the image of their creation.
The author cannot hide their selfhood indefinitely. Even when they write with a pseudonym and even if they never state anything about their private life, they still reveal information about their state of being. They are telling us about their ability to focus. They are giving us a clear signal that they have honed the skill of harnessing their power. If they are consistent in their output, they are further informing us that their lifestyle and/or living conditions provide at least a modicum of stability.
These are not mere reasonable assumptions. One does not become a creator by accident nor do they maintain their level out of talent alone.
Talent without application does, ipso facto, speak of a person whose life is missing something important. Maybe they lack the self-esteem to put the final touch on their works. Perhaps they have an aggrandised sense of their achievements, which makes them complacent, and takes away their drive. They may have taken on too many responsibilities that they cannot manage while also being creative. Their overall lifestyle imbalances their body and emotional condition. We can think of many such explanations. The point, though, is that talent alone does not take anybody as far as they might think.
Creation consists in convergence. The author qua author is inwardly and outwardly balanced. There is no disturbance within them, of the sort that can interrupt their thinking processes. And there is nothing in their immediate environment that creates distraction or disruption.
The creator effectively travels through mindscapes. Each time they focus, their immediate environment becomes a distant backdrop of abstract patterns. It is as if they enter another dimension; a dimension that is accessible only to those who practise the art of controlling their vitality.
In traversing the mindscapes, their thoughts become fecund beyond their own capacity of expression. They simply do not have enough time to elaborate on the breadth and depth of what they have discovered, even if their body and mind are in full concordance. What they carry within is a profound impression, the awe that arises from the realisation that no matter how prolific they are, they can never capture the full extent of what they are being exposed to.