The Ingenuity Principle

“Has it broken down? Does it need to be fixed?” She begged the questions to which I didn’t know the answer to. I shrugged. “Maybe,” I leisurely responded. “I really don’t know these days.” I went back to my work as my head stared down to the paper in front of me. She watched as the pen flurried to and fro, casting away shadows and creative fiends that would block others, but not me. “What’s this one about?” I heard her voice, but waited to finish my thought before answering. She sipped her coffee in the sunlit morn, whilst the birds sang, and I dreamed. But I soon found that I couldn’t dream, as I was already in the place I cherished the most, far better than any reverie could muster. “It’s about a girl, one who suffers from an atrocious burden. She wanders around, and wonders, trying to figure it out. And do you know what it was?” She gave a sweet smile to me, but shook her head. “She could only look backwards. She lived her life always looking back at what she used to have, without even giving a glimpse to what she had now.” She seemed impressed, or at least as much as you could be by what little information I told.

But oh, how I loved this place. The softened breeze carries me, caressing my every breath into a thousand words that my pen can write, or even my pencil can draw. “And here is the artwork for another that I started.” I slid my writing aside, allowing her eyes to gaze upon it. “What do you see in this picture?” I asked, merely trying to get a feel of her first impressions. She picked it up with her gentle fingers, washing her infinite eyes over the picture. “Well it appears that this boy, the one standing here,” she pointed her finger to the boy on my artwork, “is taking away the pain of this girl, perhaps his friend?” But I had to correct her. “Not his friend, but an acquaintance.” She looked slightly confused. “An acquaintance? But his face looks as though it’s hurting him. Why would he do that for someone he isn’t close to?” I gave a small smile, letting her think on her thoughts for a moment. “Perhaps this will clear it up,” I started. “The title of this work, is Validation.” She now placed the paper down to the table. “Pretty good,” she said, sounding slightly more impressed than before.

“I honestly love your work,” she stated. I was delighted to hear such a pleasant compliment come from someone such as herself. And so, I let her continue. “It really gives me a feeling...or more of an appreciation for artists. Any kind of artist really. And even though I’m not the creative type, it still motivates me. I seriously love your work.” I smiled a friendly smile, quite touched with her words. She began to stand from her seat, causing my smile to fade. “Wait, where are you-”

“Keep up the good work,” she said, abruptly cutting me off. “No, please.” I begged for her not to go, but it was no use. She faded away, paving the way for everyone else seated at their tables to do the same. “Where is everyone going?” I was utterly confused at this point, beginning to feel quite alone. Everything around me began to fade, but I remained. I was saddened by the other people’s departure, even though I knew none of them well. “If everyone else is going, then I want to go too.” But I couldn’t move. My bliss world around me faded to gray, as others I truly didn’t feel comfortable with began to surround me. “Work,” they told me. I heard all of them speaking to me at once. “Do it. Create.” I shook my head to their requests, crying out that I couldn’t do it. “I can’t, I don’t feel comfortable here. It needs to be restarted. It needs to be fixed!” I tried to explain, but their commands simply got more ludicrous. “Just tell yourself it’s easy. Tell yourself that nothing is wrong, and that creating is always easy %100 of the time.”

“But it doesn’t work like that!” I cried. “You must have inspiration. The machine needs repairs I tell you! It needs fuel!”

“Then go somewhere and get some!”

“But I can’t! I’m stuck in this dull place! Don’t you see?... I’m trapped here.”