I have no existence when I am not creating.
Now, I realize that this might strike more than a few people as an odd statement, but I assure you that it is true. When you are a creator and give dreams credence until they coalesce into a tangible realization, you become so mired in that creation that when It ceases to exist, you cease to exist – at least until you begin to create again. Creators pour so much of themselves: their essence, their light, their life force into their passion projects, that the creature begins to breathe and take on a life of it’s own. The creation is a visceral representation of an aspect the creator; it is an extension of the creator. For a brief moment, the creature lives, and then it dies. In the case of my play and arts event “What is Art?”, it came to life 13 times for about four hours a night. For those four hours, an entire world existed: it sprung into being because I wished it to. This world, no matter how bright and beautiful, is still nothing more than a soap bubble on the breeze. It was enjoyed by all of the little children who came in contact with it, and then the bubble pops, and everyone who was following this bubble returns to their own lives. While that world existed, I was as close to being like god as man can become under ordinary circumstances. I was a small god of a small temporary world. Now, my god-hood is at an end, and I return to being a mere mortal. I return to being human again, after six months of extended godhood. God took 6 days to create his world, and it has lasted 14 billion years. I took 6 months to craft my world, and it lasted for a month, but what a glorious month it was. I am grateful and humbled by all of the other demigods and demigoddesses who deigned to come create within my world. Their masteries caused my own to rise and be heightened.
I despise being merely human: I long to be restored to my place as a god. I long for the next opportunity to design a world in my dreams, and bring it into being through my will. I long to exist again, and to re-create myself. We artists and dreamers are self-created beings. If we cease to dream, if others cease to perceive us; then we cease to exist. Only by creating constantly in front of an audience, do we maintain our existence.
Now I truly empathize with Major General Waverly from White Christmas. Indeed: “What do you do with a General, who has stopped being a General? What do you do with a General who’s retired?”
I need to find my next directorial project. I need to begin creating again.
Let there be light.