The Fall and Rise of Creativity

This isn’t an essay or dissertation on creativity where I highlight areas of note over the ages, from Duchamp’s urinal to Jimi Hendrix’s thumbed guitar playing or even a well worked free kick from Matthew Le Tissier. It is about my own personal creativity...something that has been badly neglected over the past few years. I’ve handed in my job application to Haringey social services.

For the sake of not wanting to cause distress to anyone involved, I have given my creativity an alias, Colonel C. I can’t quite put my finger on the exact date Colonel C died, but I think it was around the summer of 2004. I had just finished my degree in Graphic Design and Advertising where my creative juices were flowing out of every orifice, so much so that I sometimes had to carry a portable wind-up hairdryer with me to save myself from total embarrassment. Maybe this was the problem, Colonel C was so exhausted he just didn’t want to fight anymore, he had run out of tactical ideas and had been left mumbling “...pincer movement...pincer movement...” in a lame attempt to appear battle savvy.

It was around the same time in 2004 that I resorted to painting “pop-art” on canvases for a bit of extra money. Nothing original mind, they were all black and white two-tone iconic images such as Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Michael Caine from Get Carter and various ones of the Beatles. To my credit they were cheap to do and I managed to flog them on eBay for a profit.



I noticed which images were popular and which were selling for the most money and then copied them. However, that is the key word, copies. This was too much for Colonel C; he had taken his final hit, the one thing that would finally kill him off - a distinct lack of originality. Bleeding from his gut...there was no way back...

RIP Colonel C, 1982 - 2004
You served me well for many years, I will not forget you.

For the few years after the tragic passing of a once potent force (can I hear a trumpet blowing in the distance??), there were now stuffy offices, Reed Employment, shirts and ties...there were dull computer programmes, there were templates for everything so that no mould could be broken, there were even templates on how to think... There was also a Marketing MA at LCC thrown in for good measure. It was as if the Gods were trying to erase any memory of my former friend and ally, now simply known as C. My post-C life was like some hideously boring sedimentary layer of rock, a layer of rubbish covering the landscape, pushing everything as deep as it could possibly go.


But wait, what is that in the distance?

After a 4 year hiatus I can feel something again. Almost like the phantom pains of an amputee; however this is something real. I have had a quarter life crisis. I have had a there-must-be-more-to-life-than-this moment. I want to resurrect Colonel C; I want him to lead his troops, I want him to be the next Jesus (ok, that last one’s a step too far, but you get my drift). I can feel him taking his first real gasps of air for a long long time. Colonel C is coming back. Give that man a drink!

There are many aspects to this change, it is certainly not a one stringed bow. I have dusted off my old degree portfolio and criticised the crap out of it, I have started this blog (don’t worry, it won’t always be this self obsessed) and I have had many other thoughts on how to release my newly revitalised creative juices all over Hamburg, and beyond. Creative contentment takes time; it is not a speedy process. However, it will happen.