Neil Gaiman says to make good art no matter how one feels. I like how he expresses the idea, but I’m more prone to turn to Rumi:
Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re perfectly free.
Both Gaiman and Rumi seem to express the same thought: keep calm and do what you’re called to do. Do it when you’re wounded and hurting. Do it when you’re struggling just to get out of bed in the morning or to eat a meal. Do it when you’re unencumbered. Don’t let the external ruin the internal. Don’t get distracted from what matters most. Don’t let the pain, the sorrow, the anger, or the happiness keep you from doing what you’re meant to do.
You know what that thing is, and you must do it no matter what. No matter how you feel. No matter how you think. No matter how much you dread the work or anticipate it. You must retreat into your inmost narrowness and set yourself free because when you’re in that place, you can do what you’re called to do, and you can do it despite the pain, sorrow, anger, and happiness. You have set yourself free and now you can create. You can keep calm and draw on, dance on, write on.
Image: A Divine Humour (Creative Commons)
[…] advice to the writers who may be more concerned about the rise of visual media than other people: keep calm and write on. Visual media isn’t the death knell of the written word. In fact, those visuals may result in […]