Little Creative You

You spend your youth trying to get some place. You start a band, you write a novel, you shoot some movies. 

You're not entirely sure you know where you're going you just know you must record the demo, paint the picture, film the horror flick.

You do it on instinct, making magic in the middle of the night with your best friends and by best friends I mean those guys you met the previous week.

You're making mini-masterpieces that no-one will ever see but you make them because one day they'll lead you to Hollywood or Glastonbury or wherever that place is you know you need to get to.

And then your youth is gone and adulthood arrives. 

You're still searching, only you don't have the fire anymore. You're just a lost vehicle on a long road trying to find your way to somewhere. 

You have this vague idea in your head about a big tour or a three picture deal but even as the words come out of your mouth you realise you no longer know what you're looking for.

But you remember making magic in the middle of the night with your best friends and by best friends I mean those guys you met the previous week.

You told yourself that was the beginning, the thing you do to get to where you're going.

But at some point you realise, that's exactly what you're missing.

'Making it' isn't Hollywood. It's not being on the Joe Rogan podcast. It's being in a cold field at 3am recording bad sound for a horror film nobody is ever going to see. It's rehearsing the same song fifteen times in two hours with a guitarist you met the night before. 

To be creative you have to be creative. It's not magic, it's just a decision. It's a thing you do with people you meet. 

It's easy to lose that spark, as we drift into adulthood. It happens to all of us. But somewhere deep inside of you is this little creative you, some kid in the front row, and she's ready to join a new band.