(Every once in a while, Chicago Tough takes a break from its normal cycle of articles. Tonight, I go far/far off)
We are all artists.
At least once a day we’re asked to do something creative; something we’ve never done before. We find creative resolutions to complicated problems. Our minds expand by finding these new solutions.
The solutions can be as simple as finding a more efficient way to shower in the morning, adding a new ingredient to an already satisfying dish, or discovering a new route to work. We’re constantly adapting through creativity.
The purity or health of our creativity is only evident when we’re constantly asking ourselves, ‘What am I doing today as an artist?’ What am I trying to do? What am I doing with this creation? In what direction is this artistry moving me towards?
We don’t ask these questions enough. I know that I’m not asking these questions enough because my creative health has been in decline. I’m a writer, actor, director, improviser, comedian, and poet. There were days of my life that were full; full of each profession shown above.
And I killed it.
I get sucked in by mundane events. The iphone tears me up. I’m on solitaire, or ‘seven little words’, or doing trivia. I’m watching sports, which is imperative considering this blog’s subject, but my viewing is not in the needed moderation. It all fills some sort of void.
Days of writing are gone. The performances don’t exist. The fullness that comes with being a parent is overwhelming and supremely joyful; however, my soul cannot be of complete dedication to my children when I’m lying to myself. I’m not the man God wanted me to be. I’ve run away from that man.
I can’t be a great father without being true to myself. I can’t be a great son without being true to myself. I can’t even be a great writer without being true to myself.
Ten years ago I was lucky enough to come across a coin. The coin stated on one side, ‘To Thine Own Self Be True.’ Truth is what gets us out of bed in the morning. We know that it’s out there, so we try to find it. Some find it in prayer, others find it in work. My truth is in both.
So, where’s your funny sports article? It isn’t here. It hasn’t been here. I haven’t been taking the time to ask myself, ‘What am I doing today as an artist?’
Tonight, I write. Tonight, I show you my soul.
Tomorrow, I will wake up and ask the question again.
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