I’ve been thinking lately about what creativity would be without inspiration, and I’ve come to one conclusion:
Creativity is nothing without inspiration.
One simply cannot exist without the other. They provide the fuel for each other, a constant cycle that slowly grows and grows in intensity and strength until people can only stare in awe at what the artist’s mind has seen. I feel this way with people like James C. Christensen, Kirsty Mitchell, and other artists I look up to. Artists who have dared to do what their hearts have whispered to them, who have listened to the sources of inspiration in their lives that speak of magic, wonder and adventure.
One simply cannot exist without the other. They provide the fuel for each other, a constant cycle that slowly grows and grows in intensity and strength until people can only stare in awe at what the artist’s mind has seen. I feel this way with people like James C. Christensen, Kirsty Mitchell, and other artists I look up to. Artists who have dared to do what their hearts have whispered to them, who have listened to the sources of inspiration in their lives that speak of magic, wonder and adventure.
While my work is not something to “stare in awe” at yet, like my artistic role models, my passion lies in looking to my sources of inspiration to tell my own fantastical tales. This inspiration comes from unique thrift store finds, personal experiences, my religion and faith, and the locations I pass on my way to and from work each day. Through these sources of inspiration, tales are woven that speak of who I am and where my passion lies.
I have often felt inspiration flash in my mind’s eye, like some vivid movie scene set on repeat that only I can see. When this happens, there is an almost compulsive force guiding me to create the props and costumes to fit the scene. Other times my stumbling upon a small trinket or article of clothing grabs hold of my imagination, the story to accompany my new treasure beginning to weave itself. Such was the case with these steampunk inspired images. On one particular trip to our favorite thrift shop in Harrogate, England, my mom pulled from the depths of a used clothing rack, a deep red, silken skirt. With its myriad belts, buckles, and pockets, my mind began to turn. Several months later a toy gun, top-hat, and faux-suede spats made their way into my arsenal of props. With a corset created under the lights of my thrifted sewing machine, and the personal stopwatch of my friend-turned-model, the story of an adventurous and daring young woman in a steampunk age created itself in my dining room one windy and cold November afternoon.
Inspiration also strikes from my own personal experiences. The creation of Magic’s Origin (as described HERE), began one chilly-Spring evening. When life had left me feeling burned out and pressured to create for all the wrong reasons, I learned the hard way that our heart should be the first reason we choose to create. The origin of magic, the birthplace of inspiration, lay in the heart, in the lessons learned from wanted and unwanted experiences. With photography, I have learned to use these moments as sources of inspiration, to turn them from words in a journal, to doodles in a sketchbook, and ultimately to an image rendered in photoshop with my own heart.
I would not be who I am without my religion. Every decision I make, every action I take, stems from the belief I have developed and grown to depend on as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. As a young woman participating in the Personal Progress program of the Young Women’s organization in my church, I was taught a value system and skillset that has helped me throughout my life. Inspired by what I was taught as a young girl, I have spent months at a time researching the various attributes of the values I was raised with, weaving together a story that would accurately and artfully illustrate the most important aspects of what I learned. Perhaps my desire to do this stems from a deep sense of gratitude from the things I was taught through this program, or perhaps it was because it was such an integral part of my adolescence. Whatever the reason, this series serves as the perfect example of pieces that were inspired by my faith in my Heavenly Father and His love for me.
I have always considered myself an observer. The type to step back from interactions and watch the people and scenery around me. I first realized this during our annual family cross-country road trips. The books I always brought along as entertainment more often than not sat in my lap, bookmarked gently with an index finger, as the states of Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, and Nevada steadily whispered past my window. I often found myself so captivated by the rolling plains and the vibrant hues of the sun setting off in the distance in front of our car, that paying attention to any story beside the scenery before my eyes was difficult. The same still holds true today. Stories weave a glittering line between what I see and the threads of my imagination, guiding me to create in the fields I pass each day on the way to work.
Creativity and inspiration create the crossroad where what I believe to be magic thrives. Others may call it intelligence or art. Whatever the case, I hope my journey with creativity and inspiration is one that never ends. Rather I hope it only gets louder and brighter the longer I stay on the path. May the two foundations of my magic continue to fuel each other infinitely, that I may never lose what guides my heart.
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