Why Creatives Prefer Solitude

I saw an interesting question on Quora today and I decided to answer it. The question was “Why do creative people mostly prefer solitude?”.

My answer:

There are two reasons why they prefer solitude:

  1. Because most people are not their kind of people. If you look hard enough around you, you’ll find that there are two kinds of people: those who like to think and those who don’t. The latter prefer to be fed information from whatever mainstream (or non-mainstream) sources they choose to follow without contemplation or questioning. They do not like to do research on any topic on their own and are generally loud and overbearing. Some might kindly refer to them as extroverts but I don’t believe all extroverts fall in this category. An example could be the pompous old neighbor and his wife who think they know what’s best for you and are convinced that their opinion is always right. If you don’t know any such people, you are either very fortunate or you have not lived on this planet long enough. The former category of people, the ones who like to think, are extremely rare and hard to find in most parts of the world, save some. They can be called intellectuals but they could also just be curious individuals who like to question and find out facts for themselves. I think this is where most creative professionals lie: they like to stretch and exercise their brains and they do so through their art. That is not to say that they are not skilled at logical subjects and sometimes some of the best scientists are also very creative people. As the number of people in this category is limited, most creative types are surrounded by folks who are not exactly the best company one would want when one yearns for creative or intellectual discourse and this makes them seek out solitude. Creative people like to learn about their craft and how to hone it. I think you would find that a sculptor, painter or musician prefers to learn from a master of their art rather than stay in solitude. But as long as a creative person does not feel challenged by the person they are speaking to or does not feel like they are gaining new information, they will soon lose their tolerance and seek some ‘alone time’.
  2. Because you need to be alone with just the sound of your inner voice.Ideas are formed in our minds, and the process of thinking requires utmost concentration. This is especially difficult to do when you are surrounded by other people who, no matter how much you like their company, will eventually cause you to sacrifice that undivided attention you need to give to your thoughts. When you are alone, you are most free to actually be yourself, to be comfortable in your own skin and shed any pretenses. This is what fuels original creativity, the liberty to be and to think.

Let me know if you have any counter-points to mine or any points to add. This is purely from personal experience and observations and I do not intend to vouch for the creative community as a whole.

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Evolution of an Ailment

Like how some scents stick in your memory

because they remind and some because they erase

Some gestures just echo sentiment

while the limbs move to appease and reject

A constant surge of emotions like an unending

car crash with you as the windshield

Here comes plunging the plenitude of our existence

into the silent platitude of nothingness

If you can set the arteries of my city on fire

then why not the veins of Asgard with desire

I can only tell you what the constraints

of your morality will allow me to

I can only hope for the cure to lie

within your jurisdiction, for this ailment.

 

 

Undone

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you sing
sing me your loudest secrets
your softest pieces

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you dance
dance me your stories
dance them one by one

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you paint
paint me your mind’s sunrise
and your heart’s sunset

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you cook
cook me your fondest memories
your mother’s best, your father’s first

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you think
tell me things that make me think
tell me riddles, put my mind in a maze

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you sin
Rid me of my qualms
Rip me apart and sway me

Come undone for me
as I undo
the threads
of my soul

Unsocial Media

You give your mind to influencers

you weigh your worth in follows

you sing for your unsung heroes

and for those caught in the throes

of choosing between selling art

and artfully selling.

You see them turning the corner

seeking the fame bubble

whilst around them

the earth turns to rubble.

You join the stage

crying for the spotlight

in their popularity theatre

are you any better?

And when reality hits you

like a meteorite sent from above

will you be able to leave

the billion shadows

the million stories

the thousand uploads

the hundred likes

the ten pings

the fake you?

 

 

Consalita

Amma
I wish I was there
to hold your hand
when you were younger
crossing streets
with your eyes closed.

Amma
I wish I knew
the words to tell you
you are everything
my sunshine and my storm
my strength and my weakness
my love and my fear

Amma
Do you know
I love your name
Consalita
To console
but none
consoled you

Amma
You cut off your wings
So I could have them
No happiness without gratitude
No achievement without perseverance
No knowledge without humility
No me without you

Amma
Yes mama, I pray
to Mother Mary
Mathave rekshikenney
Like you taught me to
she’ll save me
as she saved you

Amma
for what it’s worth
let me repay
your time, your love
your grace, your health
let me put you
on a pedestal
let me console you
Consalita

P_20170612_204214

Cheers to Babylon

We’ll meet again one day

in Babylon, it’s not far away

I’ll lay out my armour

you’ll leave your armchair

We’ll sing tales of old

We’ll find out in time

Mozart’s unfinished requiem

You’ll play Lacrimosa

and I’ll call you Barbarossa

We’ll look for St. Clementine

is he still on his tea and croissants?

We’ll sing of Galileo

and reminisce Ronnie Dio

Do you think he feels hollow

Despite them chanting

Eppur Si Muove

And when you’ve found love

And I’ve found life

we’ll send each other postcards

written in the dark

in the shadows of a theater

while Lubitsch paints a story

and we find we’re turning thirty

We’ll raise our pens in silence

Cheers to Babylon.