Retreating Just to Turn the Eyes Upside Down | Ephemera Magazine
“The attempted reconciliation of these separate writerly identities is a timeless negotiation—a rebellious and craving creative spirit rattling around, chafing against the bars of a more traditional profession, imagining what might be possible were circumstances different.”
THERE’S A RECURRING daydream I have: I’m unpacking a small suitcase (in this daydream I’m also low-maintenance, a minimalist) in a room inside a picturesque villa, the bronzed hills of Tuscany just outside the window. There is a small desk, upon which sits a vase holding a few branches plucked from an olive tree. They arch outward to graze the wood of the desk; a pen and paper wait expectantly nearby. I sit down to write. It is always golden hour.
A prevailing axiom within creative culture these days is “everyone’s got it.” “It,” of course, being creativity. Evangelists of this belief say we’re all creative—or at least we’re born that way—and that with practice and some discipline, we have the capacity to tap into the well no matter how deep or dusty. But the truth is that time, space, and the right combination of contributing social, financial, and cultural factors ultimately make creativity, and creation a viable option (or not). Many would-be, could-be artists might be otherwise engaged.