Hey there!

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, I know. Things get busy and catch you by surprise. I’m writing today to reflect on the past several weeks of my Non-fiction Workshop I course.

I will admit the beginning of the class startled me. We started the class in silence (our professor didn’t say a word to us) and had us listen to “The Unanswered Question” by Charles Ives, an eerie and serene song representing humans asking what the meaning of life is. And so creative non-fiction began.

The discussion led to where creation, a primal instinct of mankind, comes from. It led us to the Lascaux caves, and a discussion on art and creation as old as 50,000 years. We, as a species, have always been driven to create since (essentially) our conscious existence. From a modern day perspective, I would like to think that art is perhaps one of the most beneficial mediums when considering human happiness. Thinking back to my Senior Writers’ Seminar in high school, we talked about art supplying meaning to human lives.

I think that remains true today. Clearly, telling stories and communicating with others has always been an instinct of mankind. Why else would a primitive species, in the infancy of its development, be driven to inspire such awesome paintings with such minimal supplies? Why else would the communication aspects of our brains develop in such intricate and complicated ways unparalleled by every other known creature?

And where does it come from, this urge? Especially as writers (modern day storytellers), the one art craft that has nothing but its own imagination to rely on as tools of the trade. Why do we chose – why are we compelled – to delve into the depths of our own psyches and dredge up the muck and sorrow and pain that lies within human conflict, the source of storytelling?
Because it gives us meaning. It gives us a way to look at our own lives and ask ourselves the most basic and essential questions about how we live. What do I want to achieve? Have I lived the way I wanted? What regrets do I have? How might I live without regrets? In my senior seminar, we discussed that fiction can have more Truth – with a capital T – than facts about the world. Throw all the statistics at me – give me your fail rates, acceptance rates, birth rates, death rates – but with my one story, I can touch your heart more profoundly than you could ever hope to touch mine.

When we first started this class, I thought it was way off base from the other creative non-fiction class I had taken. Then I realized they were right in sync. Both examined art and why we (artists) do what we do. Both took into consideration the need to create and though one took a contemporary paintings view and the other stretching back to the infinite chaos from which creation was birthed, both had the same idea: thinking about the greater purpose of creation, not for the global world, but for ourselves.

Until next time,

Joe