Remembrance of Recollection

Creativity, Sustain Life

An art form, the denotation was left open-ended to my peers as we set to capture, via visual media, our art forms. Creative modality, way of expression, and the question trickled upon me from the cosmos – what was my art form? I lost my motivation to journal, compose narratives, and I refused to peer at a seemingly ancient sketchbook of an era long past. There was an attempt of a song I recorded without practice after a decade of silence.

I knew an answer: My art form was deception. High functioning, articulate, an initial glance rarely yields more than a scholarly introvert who possessed more sense for theory and literature than life and artistic creativity. Artistic creativity, what was that elusive glimmer bestowed on the chosen? Artists, true artists, separate from those in an ivory tower. That dualistic imagery, for me, was destructive. When I considered each assignment for this course, I decided this would be the most difficult. This assignment is also the first to be completed.

Still, I obliged, and a picture formed. The day would take its psychological toll on me when insight was unearthed. Flashes of someone akin to an artist-performer moved, flowed, flew, and fluxed within and without myself. Upon piecing the brief fragments into coherence, my body defaulted to deep sleep with awareness sharpened externally.

That artist-performer, she is me.

Childhood: Preservation by Sublimation

As a child, I often had to create toys and companions from what little I was given beyond a library card, computer, and books meant for postsecondary studies. Montessori preschool had me occupied more with a Lite-Brite than other children or work. Other than practical mathematics, I was past learning norms for my age group. Once I managed to conceptualize written language as computer code, it was simple to use tenets of linguistic relativity to experiment with composition. Instead of weaving tales, I was driven to program methods to access and customize them. Song weighted the deeds of adults with melancholy for scales, dance frenzied the pace to grow up and escape, and pretend play dove deeply into themes deemed too mature for young children in the post-millennial generation. A surviving story fragment from junior kindergarten (K. Tejai, personal communication, n.d.) underscored a sublimation process by evoking pleasantry while subjected to profound horrors described like the various mythos of H. P. Lovecraft (A. C. Labre, personal communication, November, 2016). By writing stories that were deeper and darker than the summation by first glance, I recorded my earlier observations of a world unlovely.

Present: Performative not Deceptive

Nearing the conclusion of elementary school, my family of origin decided that creative pursuits I held could gain prestige and attention for a future they selected for me, those were encapsulated into formal methodologies and consistently resulted in my failure to retain interest. Art was a chore to win the secret wondrous vision of theirs for them. I was forced to share in the family identity. Still, I learned how to present my communication in ways to conceal. Nonverbal language is easiest to manipulate; it is my natural preference. Verbal language required intense effort, yet I managed to pull an aura as grandiose as my family demanded. My relief came as sweet cool breezes in the form of the dramatic arts.

In drama, I could use my talent for multiple facets within a single perspective. Using the allegory of my talent for lucidity while dreaming, it was natural to emulate the multiplicity of a skilled lucid dreamer into engagement with realities. Relativism and absolutism, dualism and duality; these were conceptualizations I could weave as a one female team of performance specialities. In drama I flourished by embracing cross-identification, a term I spontaneously used in this course for an act similar to dramatic character roleplay. Jungian terminology likens my view as a Self that could slip on Personae at intuitive command, all to speak from many angles from an Ego habituated to treachery and loss. Here is where I argue that the dramatic arts should not be confused with deceptive practices, as colloquial talk would have them. My partner guided me into rekindling my love for performance. For myself, it was yet another sublimation, invading my life beyond academia.

Future: Artist-Performer, Embodiment

With recognition of the effects my lack of support and secure attachments affected my life and interpersonal relationships, I was encouraged to seek intrapersonal relationship (A. Schnarr, personal communication, 2016). Here I return to the experiential the class was asked to participate with. I see glimpses of nature, the glory of soundscapes of which my audial capacity permits perception, tidal energies when engaged in cartomancy. The focal point is the girl clutching a rabbit to her chest centre, wearing a headband fashioned after the ears of her treasure. There is my future with art forms, to engage in expression, to fill that masklike face. Prismatic light, after all, combines and appears as white.

—May 11th, 2017.

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