“Otium sine litteris mors est et hominis vivi sepulutra”
~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca
The notion that through self-actualization we view our surroundings within a subjective realm, relevant only to the individual itself, is a common and ill-conceived belief system. Perhaps Abraham Maslow was too brash in his creation of the hierarchy of needs, leaving small room for the acceptance of others, as the individual seeks attainment of self-enlightenment. I believe that the truth, when pertaining to creativity, lies somewhere in between. Through the personal nature of these lenses, we become cognizant of the universal hum, ever existent around us. It is this continuous progressive flow of energy from which we draw creative intuitions. The sound of leaves whispering across the soil, the loving caress of the wind shattering across our cheekbones, the distant aroma of firewood warming our lungs. These are the things that breathe life into otherwise empty assortments of meaningless letters arranged and re-arranged, constructed and deconstructed thousands of times over.
One does not choose to be an “artist.” Instead, a stunning cliché quickly becomes apparent as we allow ourselves to act as vessels for creativity. Each of us contains a deep-rooted subconscious affinity to be heard – whether it is through vocal patterns, written vocabularies, brushstrokes across canvases, or tones dancing upon melodic high wires. We are in essence “per-sons, as beings of sounds.” On a personal level, it is through creativity that I find clarity. The nature of stripping away at the outer layers, leaving only core emotions is a process that excites me. A driving force that cuts through fear and wonderment, allowing the artist to create vast worlds as a means to fill the voids of the unknown.
Otium sine litteris mors est et hominis vivi sepulutra translates to “leisure without literature is death, or the burial of a living man.”Finding ourselves in a world where it seems that traditional art forms are changing through a highly digitized, cluttered and noise-ridden atmosphere, it becomes vital that we adapt. Otherwise, as I believe Seneca was trying to suggest, the masses become ignorant and slow to advance, thus is the death and burial of a very living mankind. Art provides me the perfect counter-balance to this seemingly inevitable demise. I must therefore continue to foster the creativity that dwells within me and at the very least, afford my choice of the artist’s path the opportunity to develop.
