The greatest gift life has to offer is the opportunity to be blindsided by sublimity. Perceptive people are confronted by inspirations compelling enough that they merge with overwhelming. The triggers for these passions are impossible to calculate or explain, so it is not surprising that frustration is passion’s frequent companion. Maybe that’s why some actively avoid risking confrontations with anything potentially stimulating. This can also be due to fear, prudence or laziness. Others somehow manage to obliviously navigate through existence content with an uninspired impression or incapable of anything other than torpidity. This definitively demonstrates a divergence in genetic brain chemistry between humans.
Skepticism surrounding inspiration is understandable, especially since inspiring things, such as phrases, are often used to disguise untruths. It is probably impossible to determine whether someone is skeptical of a thing that excites or that a thing can elicit excitement for them regardless of the experiences of others. For instance, many are incredulous that drumming can induce hallucinations despite the many cultures that have been using it for this purpose for millennia, but rather than explore the possibility they will dismiss these practices as witchcraft. It is indeed a common conclusion that the existence of things that can evoke such intense sensual phenomena are undeniable proof of supernatural consciousness. On the contrary, from my perspective, the extreme diversity in what can thrill us demonstrates subjective experiences exist independent of any universally objective reality, purpose, truth or ideal.
The novice artist’s response to something inspiring is to attempt to preserve, dissect, and/or replicate it. This compulsion stems from a desire to understand, relive and share these things which seem to make life worthwhile, and can result in everything from covering your bedroom walls with posters of your favorite sports team to moving to France to craft burgundy wine. Further, it is not absurd to assume that capturing an embodiment of some profound and relevant experience could bring relevance and import to oneself. Strong inspirations can re-manifest themselves as motivation and drive.
I tend to be suspicious of those that don’t obsess over whatever might intrigue them, assuming they either lack commitment or soul. I find flippancy preposterous. In truth, some simply aren’t that curious. Habit and routine are important for keeping us comfortable, productive and sane, but they don’t provide joy. The thing that probably best encapsulates that which brings us the most joy is experiencing magic. Learning the processes behind a trick risks despoiling the magic, but also opens up the opportunity of appreciating another, more profound magic contained in the process itself. Further, the wielder of magic possesses a certain power, which can be used to impress or make money.
The secret of an inspirational experience lies in confronting perceived uniqueness, and of course that cannot be replicated through imitation. A more mature artistic response to being inspired is to attempt to generate novel concepts, which usually includes a fresh take on an old idea. To this end, it is more constructive to absorb perspectives that do not resemble our own. That is not to suggest influences should be avoided for fear of replicating them. In fact, there is no reason to assume that being influenced by someone will turn oneself into a clone or that avoiding influences will prevent duplication. The best influences are those that spark and encourage your own creative juices regardless of the ease with which they can be replicated. It is not uncommon for me to watch a video of an influential drummer and continue to find it challenging to try to pick out how they’re approaching the instrument. At other times, I’ll witness a drummer I’ve never listened to before approach things very similar to myself. I have found both of these experiences inspiring. This reveals the importance of having exposure in order to develop novel ideas and avoid limiting the information from which expansion and growth can occur. I am extremely wary of those who claim to have no influences, because if they aren’t just liars trying to take undue credit, it is probable they are undeveloped, unintentional imitators.
Inspirations that inform and stimulate our pursuits intertwine themselves into our being, until any perceived slight of them seems a personal affront. It is easy to take another’s disinterest or disapproval of our interests as a personal rejection. Ironically, our willingness to defend our own influences does not prevent us from ridiculing those of others, and we do so without fathoming why another would take it personally. I suppose it’s unavoidable to not have strong opinions regarding the things we are passionate about, as it is easy to forget that our inspirations are subjectively relative to our experiences, expectations and interests. Nostalgia and context are non-transferable. Also, memory is unreliable, which is why I no childhood inspiration should be assumed to contain quality. Perhaps these are most useful in giving us experience to relate from and encouraging us to continue to explore.
I feel that having a solid foundation of relevant human history is the only way to have an adequate context for making judgments. It is useless to be provided book recommendations from someone who has never read the classics or listen to someone gushing about the architecture of a particular city if that’s the only one they’ve ever been in. A couple years ago, someone extolled a movie, enthralled by how it was filmed “just like they did it in the 20’s.” When I responded that that’s a pretty broad range of cinema and asked which particular movies, genres or directors it reminded him of, he fell silent. I wasn’t surprised upon watching the movie to find, outside of being a “silent” movie, it didn’t actually resemble early cinematography in the least.
There is usefulness in seeking out those with common interests. I keep a mental record of those with movie tastes similar to mine, and put a lot of stock in their recommendations. Far beyond that, there is something magical in harmonically shared tastes. A couple years ago, I was completely enthralled by an exhibit of these three-dimensional boxes covered with windows and collages of artifacts at an art museum in New Orleans and was gobsmacked upon discovering my companion knew everything about these “shadow boxes” and their creator, Joseph Cornell. A trivial connection such as this can create a genuinely strong bond. Our brain seeks linkages between various interests and pursuits, so that we are not only attracted to those with common interests, but we are compelled to introduce and encourage our loved ones to empathize with our delights. In fact, our human impulse to connect with others easily overwhelms any inclination to simply be silently content with our own amusements.
I read a study that claimed shared preferences are less important in creating attachments than mutual dislikes. Without knowing the specifics of this study, I’m willing to guess this is partly due to the fact that it is easier to find general dislikes than it is to connect with specific likes. It might not particularly matter if another appreciates Evan Parker or Tool, because what are the odds of that, so long as they don’t love smooth jazz or 1990’s era boy bands, for example. I am easily irritated by things others are interested in that I find plebian. For every Cornell shadow box there are 10,000 insipid craft ideas on Pinterest.
We can become unreasonably annoyed when confronted with the reality that our influences or irritants aren’t universally appreciated or shared. Perhaps we worry that if our passions aren’t validated, our pursuits are a waste of time. Although many (frighteningly) seem to desire a homogenous world in which everyone is attracted to the same thing, even those who don’t experience legitimate confusion as to how something that can inspire us so much affects others so little.
Growing up, I had a subscription to National Geographic, and one of my favorite articles was on the restoration of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel paintings. I was mesmerized with the whimsically muscular caricatures cleverly intertwined to symbolically communicate stories and ideas. Years later, I met someone who had actually been there when she was twelve who described it as “dumb.” That effectively removed for me any legitimacy to her artistic palate. While that may be an extreme reaction, I found myself unable to excuse her adamant opinion. When I was around twelve, I thought to myself, I had been completely blown away by a gigantic canvas covered with layer upon layer of shades of white paint by Rauschenberg at the Art Institute of Chicago.
Our inclination is to paint everything surrounding something that we are keen on in the best possible light, which makes it difficult to place inspirations in proper context. It requires maturity to balance expectations with reality and maintain a sound perspective of vitality and relevance. While good or bad and right or wrong are not always subjective ideas, they usually are. Similarly, we easily forget the disparity between things that encourage us and their creators. It is important to maintain the perspective that having the ability to demonstrate talent or competence does not make one a decent human being, and that having unfavorable traits does not of necessity taint the entirety of one’s work.
