Intention, Creation, and Metaphysical Destruction

Earlier in the week I had a virtual therapy appointment, and one of the topics that came up was my relationship with my craft as a creative. I’ve felt that this particular relationship has been strained lately, as I struggle to use creation as an outlet and simultaneously feel the need to monetize these skills in order to supplement my income (which currently is nonexistent). The joy of creating for creations sake has been siphoned right out of the myriad of crafts that I usually engage in. Now all that remains is a weighty anxiety. I feel anxious that nobody is buying my artwork, or reading my written works. It’s been hitting my self esteem and creating worry where worry has no right to exist. When I shared all of this with my therapist, she said I need to try focusing my intentions on creating for its own sake again. In order to do this, she suggested that I try my hand at destroying my own artwork. Try making some sand art and busting it down when I’m done, things like that.

I started thinking more about it today, planning what sort of things I could create only to inevitably destroy them. A collage I could rip to pieces, a painting I could burn up, a tapestry I could unravel… Later while taking a shower I thought on all of this further, as I often do while in the shower. And I found my mind wandering into the realm of intent. If my sole intent in creating is to create, then it must be creating for creations sake. Obviously this isn’t the case at the moment, or I wouldn’t be struggling so much. In the front of my mind I think I’m creating for the sake of it, but in my subconscious I know I need money to make my next credit card payment or to buy the girls new winter boots. Whether consciously done or not, my intentions have been sullied. Which leads me to wonder, how could I possibly create for the sake of it if I’m going into a creative project knowing fully well that I’m only going to destroy it? Wouldn’t my intention then be creating for the sake of destruction? So it seems that what really matters the most in all of this is where my intention lies.

The power of suggestion is a fascinating and terrifying thing. As soon as my therapist made the suggestion that I destroy my own art so that I could focus my intentions on creating for the sake of it rather than the outcome, the endeavor was put to a dead stop before it even began. Sure, I could have just heeded my therapists advice, set out to create something, and then destroyed it. The end. But without my intentions being in the right place, what would be the point of this? Whether I realized it or not, the intention wouldn’t be my own. That’s the first issue I have with all of this. If the purpose of me destroying my own art is to purify my own intentions behind creating that art, then this approach seems to be deeply flawed. Destruction was suggested to me as a means to an end, that end being creation for its own sake. At this point, in order for my therapist’s suggestion to work, I have to either allow myself to forget about the suggestion, decide on my own to create something, and then decide (again on my own) to destroy that thing. Or, I need to accept that my intentions are in a different place (creation for the sake of destruction), which I believe defeats the purpose.

If suggestion interrupts the purity of our own intentions towards something, why not go straight to the source? What if the thoughts, ideas and theories I have are more in line with creating for creations sake? I think of something, and turn it over in my mind for a while until eventually I decide to commit it to physical form, whether that be in written form or as a weaving, illustration or collage. What if, by committing these thoughts, ideas and theories to physical form, I am in fact destroying all other possible manifestations of these thoughts, ideas and theories? So it’s not a physical destruction, but rather a metaphysical one. How many possible outcomes could there be for a single idea? I suppose it could even be argued that if a single idea was suggested (such as destroying artwork), there would still be innumerable ways in which that idea could manifest. And with this final thought, I was able to do the unthinkable and tell myself to shut the fuck up and just do it.

This part is the most important, out of all of my ramblings and musings. I sat down and made something. Because even though my therapist made the suggestion to destroy my artwork, and even though this changed the overall intention behind my creating that artwork, there were still innumerable possible manifestations of this singular suggestion. I took my chances that I could come up with something original. I rummaged through my partners vice-drawer, pulled out an almost spent pack of rolling papers, and decided to do a little collaging. A quote from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle got thoughtfully pieced together and pasted on the last five rolling papers. I got lost in the process of chosing the right letters and assembling them, then figuring out how to put them back together so they could pull out of the pack and be easily read. It was happenstance that each paper was already outfitted with a strip of adhesive, then I covered the packaging. Boom.

There are two things that surprised me, as I set my creation ablaze. The first was what a strong physiological response I had to destroying something I invested time and effort into making. As I pulled the message out my stomach dropped, and once I lit the flame I began to shake a little. That same feeling you get when you force yourself to do something that you know you aren’t supposed to do for the first time. There’s a strange internal conflict, and the messages that your body sends you even as you commit your act is nothing short of fascinating to me. Something deep within me did not want me to burn the thing I made.

The second thing that surprised me came after I had already destroyed my artwork. I made a point to set up a tripod for my phone so I could record a video of my deed. I’ll admit that it all felt a bit anticlimactic immediately following my act of destruction, but once I watched the video for the first time I felt a strange sense of euphoria. This was something I made just for me. It was mine to piece together and admire for a brief while, and then I destroyed it. Nobody else will ever get to have that piece of me. Now whenever I watch the video, as soon as the flame grabs hold of the papers, I can’t help but smile! I will definitely be destroying my artwork again in the future, even if it will be creating for destructions sake. Part of me is even tempted to suggest giving it a try yourself, but I’d hate to mar you own intentions…