Creative Valley

I have become weary of the social media rat race.  For almost two decades I have been feeding the click machine with, at times, my very best creative endeavors.  Whether it was educational videos for kids and families about faith and wildlife, books, articles, or photography—it all just seemed as if it died on the vine.  A friend recently said that part of my issue could be the fact that my creative passions are so niche.  I exist in a very small space, with an even smaller audience usually. 

I mean I get it, pictures of toads, articles about misadventures, and videos of me rapping about venomous snakes is likely for a very specific audience.  So, although I didn’t exactly create for any specific crowd, having something I’ve created be well received was always the goal.  Even if it was only to boost my own fragile ego.  The occasional positive comment or thumbs up has given me just enough of an endorphin rush to stoke those creative fires week after week, year after year, decade after decade. 

I am relentlessly creative, but equally horrible at making any real noise in the social space.  I just haven’t seemed to be able to rise above the static.  The real question though is why do I even care.  My art, my creativity is for me.  It’s how I cope with the travails of life.  So why does it need to be popular?  Why does “engagement” or the lack thereof even move me.  The reality is that the act of creating something is the catharsis moment, and the frustration with its reception is just my own insecurities gnashing their nasty teeth.  It means nothing.  I’m a creative whether anyone reads this or not. 

I used to flirt with production companies that pitched me to T.V. networks as a host for this or that project.  The first production company called me out of the blue and said something to the effect of “do you want to host a show on National Geographic Wild?” I was like yea uh let me think on that for a minute…yes.  I remember wiping tears of joy from my eyes as I paced outside of our small apartment thinking the decade (at that time) of hard work had finally bore fruit.  Turns out, I was wrong.  Looking back, it was a blessing that none of those “shows” panned out.  Most of the head-hunting production companies ended up lacking integrity, and therefore I didn’t sign on.

I wanted to be a professional creative, but not at the cost of my personal integrity.  I’m not a sellout and I couldn’t sell a lie.  There were a few gambles I opted against and still wonder how my life would be now had I said yes.  Likely I would still have the same creative frustration, but it’s fun to daydream sometimes.  I guess it’s just hard to have a dream that won’t die, but after twenty plus years of chasing it, I fear I may have missed my moment.  My youth has turned to middle age and the days of me jumping out of vehicles to chase down critters are rapidly coming to an end.  I know my knees are thanking me at least. 

Truthfully, I’m not even sure what I’m hoping for anymore.  I just want to leave some sort of creative legacy.  Maybe I’ve already done it.  Perhaps well after I’m gone some kid will remember receiving a copy of “Todd the Toad” and say that my little book helped them learn to read.  One can hope.  Selfishly, I’d like to taste some of that while I’m still alive but I’ll take it however it comes. 

The thing is, I truly believe in the things I put out into the world.  I want people to read what I write, be inspired and entertained by videos, or awestricken by a macro photo of an animal they’ve never seen.  Sometimes that happens, often I simply get a few “likes” and people scroll on by.  Such is the world we currently live in.  Attention is at a premium, and grabbing willing eyes to see creative works can be incredibly hard.  We are all just so busy these days, who has time to read anyway? 

I’ve heard it said time and again that growth happens in the valleys.  I currently feel I am living in that fertile bottomland.  That’s a better way to look at it.  I’m in a low spot because it’s where things can grow and I’ve still got a way to go.  The only place left to go is up the mountain.  Nothing grows on those mountain tops we all strive for anyway.  I’d still like to feel what that wind feels like up there, the rarified air of finally “making it,” but that is apparently an adventure for some future date.  So, I keep on climbing day in and day out.  One foot leading the other until I find myself with the panoramic vista of my life’s work.

The irony to all of this is I’ve known several people who “made it” and they struggle with the same issues, just at a larger scale.  There is no quick fix.  In the end it has to be about the art, the creativity, because it’s just something that you HAVE to do.  Honestly, I don’t know how else to live.  I’ve bled on pages and stages most of my life and will continue to do so until I pull my last breath.  If I’m not doing this for myself, I’m already missing the mark and it’s assuredly time wasted.   

If you’re reading this, thank you.  I need you to know that despite all of my mental ups and downs, I truly appreciate you showing up, reading, commenting and engaging with my work.  I know you could have done other things with your time, and I am thankful you spent five or ten minutes of your busy life checking out something I’ve created.  I truly mean that.  There’s a mountain top, and likely new valleys, in my future.  Yours too!  I can taste it.  I feel it in my bones.  I hope that one day I will look back and remember days like today when it feels like the world is spinning just a bit too fast, and smile at all I’ve accomplished.  Dear reader, I wish you the same success in all your endeavors.  We’ve got this! 

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