We all want to create. We want to say things that are worth hearing create images worth looking at. But creating is hard, or can be at times. Why is that? What follows are some thoughts that have helped me recently when it comes to creating. Hopefully they'll help you as well. In B.J. Novak's new movie, Vengeance, he has a line that goes, no one really writes anything, they just interpret it. It's a line that's helpful for all art forms, not just writing. So often, us creative types, at least I like to assume it's not just me. Feel consciously or subconsciously that we must create out of the eternal void, something earth shattering and transcendent. Or at least put something on a blank page that looks pretty neat. To do this, we believe that unless the muse of artistic genius is upon us, we can't create. Of course, we may not say it in such archaic terms. Usually our translation is, I'm just not feeling very inspired today, or even, less the quaisiously employed the elucidating monosyllable meh. Of course, there's nothing wrong with not feeling like creating. The purpose of consciousness is to reduce the stimulus of the world into a manageable set of things that we can navigate. So to rule out things like artistic creation may be the best possible course on some days. Here though, I'm addressing the problem of when we actually want to create but don't feel able. I go back to Novak's line with some slight alterations. No one creates from the void. They interpret their perspective with the tools at their disposal. Thus, when I'm feeling as though I'm unable to create, I think about something that I find interesting and try to interpret it as accurately as I'm able. Not every facet of it, of course. Visual art of the kind I do is only ever meant to point out and provide insight to the things I think are interesting, not to be an immersive VR experience. Arguably, the most famous work of art, the work that has become our mental hieroglyphic symbol whenever art comes to mind is the monolisa. Content-wise, it's one of the most common themes in all art. A woman smiling at the viewer. Though one could wax philosophical and points of how her smile is enigmatic and thus the image carries in with it all the ideas of the mysteries of the feminine. What are the things that truly bring them joy? How may I win their favor? If eyes are the windows to the soul, why does her soul seem to follow me with its gaze? But essentially, it's Leonardo's interpretation of one half of the population's face. It doesn't require many leaps of insight to arrive at the conclusion that here is something worth putting down on canvas. And yet, the vox popular has deemed it worth paying attention to centuries after its creation. A woman's face. Something which we all see every day and yet we all, or most of us, agree it's still worth looking at and thinking about. This leads us to the question, why do we create? Is it to escape? Is it to better visualize what giant robots look like when they battle the monsters of the deep? Is it to gain the esteem of our fellow human beings? I think at its core, that last is one of the main reasons. We exist to know and to be known. To merge both purposes and one endeavor is a worthwhile pursuit. In art, we study and interpret, gaining a deeper knowing as it were, then as we reveal our interpretation to those around us, we get a sense that they know us better. And if our interpretation is good and resonates with those we like, we get an even better feeling, that they know the us, which we feel is definitive of who we truly are. Of course, there are those who say, I create for me. This can be an important undertaking too. To create for oneself helps us to interpret the world better, to understand our place in it in a clearer way. It can too often be more of a jungle than a garden, so to take the time to prune and water our little corner of it might be necessary before we go off interacting with the other inhabitants. Whatever our reason, we're going to do it. We're going to interpret and visualize to better understand our world and share it with those around us. We may as well enjoy the process. And I think that having a clear understanding of how to proceed increases our enjoyment. So give it a try. Next time you're in the mortal words of the great philosopher Natasha Beddingfield, staring at the blank page before you. Remember, you're not here to imbue that blank page with a meaning and purpose never before known. You're here to relay your insight, your interpretation of your part of the world, either for your understanding or for those around you. Of course, you may pause at the question, what can I add to the already full and rich world of human endeavor? After that, I would answer an idea that's been helpful to me. Sometimes it's not so much what you say, but the fact that it's you saying it.