The Creative Process

I don't have any medals, trophies, certificates, or diplomas to show for the dozens of years during which I have been here. I haven't set any records (of which I am aware). I don't have a group of friends. I don't have a loving family. But, what I do have is a strong sense of accomplishment. What I do have is a growing sense of pride.

The creative process, which emerged in the nick of time to save my life... nearly 20 years ago... took me along what felt like the longest possible route to developing a unique life to call my own. My individual definition of an artist has become: one who treats the heartfelt imagination as life itself, and considers each dream a precious child to be nurtured.

And I don't believe it could ever be right to abandon or abort a living child.

So it is that I dreamed. I let my imagination work in tandem with my instinct(s). Love rose above other feelings and seemed to rule all. This made for great songwriting. This made for good shoulders for others to cry upon. I was used plenty.

Then the creative process met its match. I also have the mathematical method by my side. These two took long to marry, but a persistent therapy has shown them truth. I benefit. I'm nearly a real boy. No strings. Warm and whole.

I owe thanks to few, but a few to whom I shall give it. That is the step after this present one.

You should know what it feels like to know yourself.