Creativity is as Creativity Does

I recently moved into a new house. It isn’t far from my last house. In fact, with just the right angle and velocity, I could probably huck a rock into my old yard. One street over. Four houses down.

Often when we move, we are driven in part by a deep desire that the simple change in geo-location will lead to a deeper change in our outlook, our happiness, our very destiny.

Over the years, I have lived in close to ten states, twenty cities and even more houses. I move so often that it has become also a routine.

Yet this time, I did something different. I focused on optimzing happiness. So I made a list of everything that I needed to be happy.

1. A place with space. Space not measured by square footage but by openness. Windows. A backyard. The ability to walk from the living room to my bedroom and feel like I was somewhere else.
2. A place with familiarity. I looked for a place that was within 10 miles of where I currently lived. I like my neighborhood. I enjoyed the people I met and saw day to day. Why should I give up what I had worked to build over the previous two years.
3. A place that drives creativity. One of the easy things that the internet allows us to do is surround ourselves with pithy quotes and inspirational images. Over the years I have collected original art (and lots of it), but haven’t had the walls to hang it. I wanted a place that needed art on the walls. I wanted a place that I could play music through out its rooms (Yes, I have a Sonos. And yes, its bad ass.).
4. A place with love. I didn’t want to like the new place. I wanted to love it. I wanted all my cats and dogs to love it. I wanted love, which for me is the desire to be and share happiness, to be part of my home concretely, not in the abstract.

As these things go, I ended up finding a place that was one street over from my last house and was about 1/3 larger both internally and in the backyard. The neighbors are amazing and I am surrounded by good people. It’s amazing that just one street over, I went from a crazy neighborhood who I was sure was going to stab me (or the “Tattoo Guy!” as she used to refer to me as she screamed at the top of lungs at anyone who would listen) to a wonderful family on each side, both who came over and introduced themselves as I was moving in.

My dogs bark less, the cats hang around more. The house doesn’t drop to negative four billion degrees each night, and I open every blind each day, allowing the sun to flow in.

By the end of the third day of living here, I knew I had hit on three of the four requirements necessary for happiness optimization.

The last was creativity.

I consider myself creative, but without spark. I watch movies and read books. I look at art and listen to music. I use software and I marvel at the ability of these creative folks to build from a complete void.

Give me a kernel of sand and I will build a mountain.

My house doesn’t need to be filled with creativity, it needs to imbue inspiration. It needs to have spaces filled with thought and short distances between the kindling of an idea and the start of execution.

I did a couple of things. I set up a “writing station” in my bedroom. Its just a desk and a computer, but the iMac has nothing but creative programs on it (Creative Cloud, IAWriter, Scrivener, Desk.fm, etc.). My working computer is sitting on my treadmill desk, and Sonos pushes music around the house.

When people visit, we sit across from each other in chairs where conversation flows freely and without distraction. And as for distraction, I have thrown out most everything that pulls away from a creative world. (I own 15 tees, seven boxers, one pair of pants, and four pairs of shorts. One pair of shoes and three sets of socks. I buy gadgets and just as quickly give them away. I am as minimalistic as I can be in everything, other than inspiration and creativity.

One of the most unexpected aspects of medicating and having my bipolar under control is that I have lost the one thing that allowed me to be highly productive in bursts — my mania. Over the previous years, I have had to relearn how to work in a non-manic state, and when it comes to creativity, I have learned that creativity is as creativity does.

Inspiration and creativity are not about time; but space.