and we ask ourselves, why do we sing the songs we sing?

It has welled up inside me, and I am bursting at my seams. I have sat and watched the world around me, soaking it up like a plant eats sunshine. It is inside me, and I must let it out. I am speaking of this terrible and beautiful disease called writing.

You see, ever since I left school, there is no need to write anything anymore. Well, by need I mean there is no "requirement" for assignments and such. And when you work a job, creative writing and creative thought for that matter is no longer necessary. All that matters is whether or not you can pull the lever. Can you pull the lever faster? Great. But there is no need to think of things outside of your immediate presence. Desk, computer, stairs, elevators, and tasks. This is life, and it repeats five times a week, forty hours a week. Repeat 52 times a year.

But to some this might seem like a prison sentence. To some, this may seem like what they have waited and practiced for their entire life. This is fine, to each their own. For now I will not weigh these on their value or merit, that is not what concerns me. What truly troubles me in a way I have never really experienced is a certain surge in creativity. This surge is due in part to an idea that has been hibernating in a dusty corner in the back of my mind for years now. I have come to the full realization that this idea(s) needs to be executed, needs to be realized and materialized. Several things have prevented me from doing this in the past. Fear of failure, fear of criticism, fear of actually putting fingers to a keyboard. The idea of tackling an idea so big that I don't even know how long it would take to finish it. But alas, these fears have subsided mainly due to the desperation inside my creative heart to just express itself. So it begs the question: Why do we sing the songs we sing?

More specifically why do we create art? Why do we release the most revealing, personal, vulnerable thoughts for the world to potentially consume. What is one's motivation for this individualistic purge? Well, there are two reasons I feel one might do something of this nature. And I came upon this realization as I was reading the first book in the Tripod series called The White Mountains. Now, let it be known that these books are not the best written books of all time and they will not go down in history for their clear, cutting prose. BUT, they are fun and exciting stories about a wonderful metaphor for creativity. Allow me to explain.

If you are not familiar with the books at all I will give a brief overview. The setting is Earth in the future. Machines have taken over and rule the entire world by simply "capping" humans when they turn 14. These "caps" are essentially mind control devices that do not allow humans to think creative thoughts, and thus make them slaves to the machines, who force humans to live in somewhat of a feudalistic agrarian society. Ok, I know this sounds like cheesy sci-fi, but bear with me, I have a point. So, our protagonist here is a boy named Will, who nearing his capping decides he does not want that future. He hears of a place called The White Mountains and finds out there is a place where free men live their lives the way they want, without fear of machines. So the whole book is about his journey there and the troubles along the way. Well the part that is important for this discussion comes in the middle of the book when Will is stuck in this castle. Now at this castle Will is treated really well, the whole kingdom likes him, he gets fed well. He meets a girl who is attractive, sleeps in a comfortable bed, yadda yadda yadda, life is easy and things are good. But, everyone there is capped. And if he was to stay there, he would have to be capped as well. The thought occurs to him, should I stay where I know my future, or do I dare try fight for something that is right and true.

And basically this argument can be applied to any form of creative expression. Do you play it safe and appeal to the capped kingdom, or do you reach to achieve something that is harder, less appreciated, dangerous, and not guaranteed. For example, the Jonas Brothers are not trying to achieve anything that hasn't been done. They play safe music, make safe music videos and generally don't try to ruffle any feathers, BUT there are huge advantages to this. They are famous, rich, immensely popular, they sell out concerts, have plenty of praise, and probably will never have to work hard for the rest of their lives. These are good things. Relatively.

Making true art is a true risk. Just because you shed convention and forgo the given road does not inherently set you apart, or justify what you put out creatively. The impetus, desire, and inspiration for what you make must come from the most honest and purest place in your body: the heart. The motivation can not be to become famous, to be rich, or to reap praise and accolades. If these are byproducts of your struggle for art, then so be it. But the true artists do not desire these, nor do they judge their accomplishments on them. As the character Will states: "I would rather die than wear a cap on my head."

So what does this all mean? Jonas Brothers, three-legged machines, and metal caps. It means that I must create. It means that I must write. Not for any reason but to eject thoughts that have swallowed my brain for years now. I hope it is something I am proud of. I hope it is successful in its aims. I hope a few people enjoy it. But above all these, I hope it is art. Indistinguishably and undeniably art. Why? Because why else would we sing the songs we sing...

because these songs are in our hearts.