A Mind Wide Open.

   Being of a creative mind, or someone with a grand imagination, can be simply marvellous at times. You get to watch with your own eyes as something you created, you thought up, becomes a reality. You get to see something from deep inside your mind take form and a life of its own as you work away at it, whatever the medium may be. And if it goes well, you reap the rewards. You gain acclaim from your peers. It can be a beautiful thing indeed.

  However, it is certainly not without its flaws.

  I often hear people say "how do some people come up with stuff like that?"  or "Wow, I wish I had an imagination like yours" or even "Man, I wish I could see what's going on in your head." And I know it is usually meant as a compliment, and for the most part that's how I take it. With a laugh and a smile.
   But I don't think people really understand what's going on in the ol 'inside'. I doubt some could even fathom what kind of a burden having an 'over-active' imagination can be like.

   So, at this early hour of the morning, as I lie here listening to the rain patter rhythmically down on the roof, I have come to the decision to share with you, a glimpse into the process and inner workings of my mind, so that you may better understand myself and the creative ones out there to whom you address such fascinated remarks.

   Now. this is going to sound pretentious. It may sound like insanity. It may be not what you want to hear. But I just feel it's time to shed some light on the subject for some.
 
   For those who know me, probably think of me as a nice guy, sense of humour, always up for some fun, creative, random, can have a short fuse if pushed, can sometimes be a dick, but for the most part means well and wants to help out where possible.

  But to really know what's going on inside me, I feel I shall have to paint you a metaphorical picture (Although knowing me, I'll most likely paint an actual one too).

So. Picture this if you will...



.....Inside me are two seas. Monstrous and tumescent, which constantly crash and collide with one another, forever pushing and pulling with sharp waves that  hook themselves deep into the very fabric of my being.
   The storm is endless and constant. Loud and beautiful, but destructive. Emotions are swarms of colours which swell and fall depending on which sea is being fed on that day. And trust me, each side is fed sporadically from day to day.
   'How are they fed' you ask?
   From that place you wish to visit of course. My head. The mind.

    It's a mind that rarely rests. That rarely sleeps. That s constantly churning, like a cog that is addicted to turning other cogs.
   On a good day, the chaos can be focused and divided into maybe several tasks which can filtered into the sea and translated out into the world via pen, or brush, or typed out onto screen.
   On a bad day, my mind is its own hell.
   Picture as many thoughts and ideas as you can, all still raw and un-sculptured, all being pushed out at once through a filter too small to fit even half. And once they do filter through, you lose them to the clutches of the seas which both writhe up, ripping and tearing at them, trying to claim them for their own.
   There is no order. Ideas at this stage are like trying to do a puzzle of words, where none of the pieces fit and all of the letters are upside down and the words themselves, backwards. Where the sizes of the pieces are wrong and the colours are various shades which don't match. And after you collect all these pieces together , you somehow have to arrange them. You have to find some design that will fit them coherently. Something that will make sense for everyone else.
   On a really, really bad day, there is nothing.
   The cogs are stiff, un-churning. The seas dead, unwavering. Inside simply becomes chokingly thick, and just like quicksand, the more you struggle in it the more it drags you down. On days like that there is no emotion. Simply because there are no emotions. On days like that, you are simply a walking husk.

   For the most part however, the seas rage but the creativity flows strong. Anyone with a wild imagination who has made it this far, knows how to feed their oceans. Knows when to give a little, and when to take a little.
  But the unpredictability of the seas are just that. Unpredictable. Which is where the internal emotional struggle comes into it.
 
   "How can someone even think of that idea, or come up with it?"
   Short answer; Because we have to. Because I have to.

   When I'm writing a story I can't just create a character who's un-flawed and who will have an enemy or rival on a plate who is simply 'bad' just because. I doesn't work that way.
   When I create anything, be it characters or paintings, drawings, I do so with the consideration of the emotions of the subject. I don't just make a hero, a hero. I have to work out why he or she is the hero. I have to dissect what makes them tick, what qualities they posses. What do they love, what do they hate. What brought them to their chosen path. What pains them, and what is it that they absolutely fear.
   And then I have to live them. I have to get inside their head, and experience it through their eyes.  Otherwise I can't make the character grow,

   But just as there are two sides to a coin, there are also two seas at play, and every perspective must be seen from it's opposite.
  When a particularly disturbing part happens in a movie or story, perhaps its a torture scene, or a brutal murder, I hear people say "That's sick, I makes me wonder how people come up with that."
  Well I hate to say it people, but that's the other side of the coin.

   This is probably the part most people don't want to hear. The part that people happily over look. It's sort of like the ignorance that comes with eating a cheeseburger. You know at some point an animal was killed to make it, but you push that thought aside in light of enjoyment. Well this is the same.
   All those villainous characters we love to loathe, all those bad guys who drive the heroes story forward, and the evil that keeps us suspended in fear, scared that the hero won't be able to save us. All that has to be created by someone.
   In order to make a villain, I have to go through the same process as creating a hero. Yes, it can be dark, and sometimes grotesque, but in order to control the creature I am building, I need to know the character through their eyes. No matter how twisted or painful it may seem.

   The truth is, we all have those dark places residing in us. As humans, who are all creative in some aspect or form, we have that inherent in our very make up. It's just how we use it.
   I've learnt to tread carefully, never to go too deep, and I think that's the thing. I know my mind. I know it's limits and when to stop. I set a line which, heavens forbid, I will never cross.
   To me it's the dark basement of my creativity, just another tool to use. And occasionally I stand in its vortex and take in the ideas it has to offer.  The dark being no more sinister than ones own shadow.

   As someone with all these things coiling around in my brain, it can be hard to keep a balance, make no mistake. And that, I believe is where feelings come into play.
   One of the biggest day to day struggles is simply trying to make sure that the particular 'feelings' you have been using in a character or work don't take over and come out on the outside.
   I can tell you now, it can be harder than it sounds.

   Try and imagine that you have been working on an emotional, intense piece. Something truly sad that stirs your very soul. And you are right in the heart of it, letting the feelings and emotions roll over you. Then imagine someone walks into the room and tells a joke. They stand there excepting you to laugh. So you must put aside everything you have just felt. Every emotion you just created which has been flowing through you, every torment for the character that technically doesn't exist. All of it must be shoved out of mind, stowed away, and you must laugh.  Not only that, you have to do it convincingly.
   And it can be a hell of a task to do with a mind that is constantly running a million ideas a second.

  This is why, if a creative person seems like they aren't feeling what you are feeling, it's not because they don't share that emotion. It's because they are feeling everything.
   And we do it strongly.
   I for one become rather attached to feeling particular ways about things. That's why I have this strange sadness when I have to throw away a broken pen, buy a new phone, or toss a worn pair of shoes. It seems stupid, and perhaps it is, but at some point I created a bond, a common purpose for it's being, and I feel its pain when I have to let it go.
   And it is much worse with people who can actually reciprocate said feelings.
   This may be why imaginative and creative people can be such hard work. Sometimes it may seem they feel too much to the wrong thing, or feel too little where it is suppose to count. But just remember they are competing with a turmoil of feelings which they must constantly keep in check, and separate from one another.

   That said, when we or I find something that is truly worth focusing on, then they become everything. There is a determination and drive that stems from it. It's awe-inspiring. It can, if even for just a series of moments, be clarity. Something most creative people struggle with.
   I am overwhelmingly lucky to have a handful of people in my life who invoke this sensation in me. People who make me know I can be a better person, who make me strive to rise to my potential, who part the seas of nonsense, who quell the waves and lull the swarms of emotion. They are the people who make it all clear which puzzle piece goes where.
  And I love those people. With everything I have. With all that I have. With all that I am, every fibre of my being.
  That's a feeling you can't buy. Only created. Crafted over time.
  I owe them everything and more. Truth be told, I do it all for them. otherwise everything just comes out slightly incomplete.
   Whatever my master piece in this life may be, my master stroke is of their doing.


   So.
   Every time someone asks me "oh, if only I could spend a day in your head." I always think, 'No.'
Because I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. The things I imagine, the horrors I conjure, the illusions I create, all the extravagant scenarios I playout, every one is so incredibly vivid, and real, that I fear if anyone should wander into my mind, they would get lost/go insane/never want to leave.
   This is why I create art. This is why I do what I do. I show you bits and pieces, give you taste testers.
   Why?
   Because I don't think anybody could digest the main course.


   Inside I am a whirling ball of chaos. A swirling typhoon of creative energy. I am pain, love, hate, ambition, desire. I am everything and I am nothing.
  And you know what?...


   ...I love it.




   Well, there you go. An insight into the mind of one Alex Phillip Pickard.
    I hoped you liked the tour.