#6 Creativity is generous

A certain ‘fascino’

Hello friend,

The week before Christmas, I baked like a mad woman. I do not know what possessed me to do so. It seems every festive season; I come down with the same madness. I think the most original Christmas gift to give the Italians living around me here in my adopted home of Sicily is some delicious cookie they may have never tasted. This year I made chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter cups, cherry and coconut slices, pistachio cookies and almond muffins.

As is usual with my annual festive baking escapades, I promptly burnt one batch, got the recipe wrong on the next one and generally made a mess of the most expensive almond meal-filled cookies, which left me cursing my clumsiness. Consumed by my pig-headed perfectionism and determination to make a good impression (or, as they say in Italian, una Bella figura), I took another day to remake all of them again.

Doubling down on each recipe and doubling the dosage to make up for my errors, I found myself filled with trays and trays of biscuits. Some less impressive-looking cookies were placed below those that came out as they should avoid too much wastage. The burnt ones were unsalvageable, I'm afraid.

I spent hours making my gift cards, wrapping them in decorative plates in see-through plastic wrapping, and finishing them off with a unique little Christmassy tablecloth or runner as an extra gift for the in-laws and my acquired Sicilian zie. The results were pretty cute, but I was exhausted and nauseous (honestly, if you realise how much sugar and butter go into cookies, you'd never want to eat them again.)

They were accepted with barely a 'grazie' as if this annual baking thing had become an expected ritual. 

I felt greatly underappreciated and began to question my sanity.

Why do I always put myself under such pressure every year?

I realised it's probably a pattern that often happens in my life. I tend to fixate on something, develop an unhealthy obsession with it and then put it aside whenever I get tired.

It seems I'd forgotten about the hassles of Christmas baking. After all, it had been a year since I'd done it.

This obsessive pattern is generally a symptom of the ailment of creativity. A creative person will naturally fall in love with a particular genre or artist. The concentration will lead to the creation of great art.

Since the creative personality is generally graced with a harsh self-critic who will lead them to procrastinate due to crippling fear, they need to be easily swept up by obsession; otherwise, they would never actually get any work done.

Yes, I do consider my creative vein to be an incurable illness. I'm not complaining about being innovative; it's only a part of my personality. It's a lifelong vocation to be able to manage this unique force of desire and creativity. I love being creative because there are endless ways to be creative in your everyday life, from baking at Christmas to finding solutions to your problems. Everyone wants to be creative, yet creativity is usually its reward, as nobody wants to pay for creativity. Since the act of making something is generosity itself, often it isn't acknowledged or rewarded.

I am also very sensative and empathetic, which helps to be a better artist as I can tap into other people’s emotions and points of view. Many artists are very sensative to the world around them and some say it is their super power. Seeing the world for many different perspectives can be a very useful skill, especially for a writer.

I find without even realising my words connect easy to my readers as they come from a kind of collective pool or emotional experience and desire. After all we are all connected through our own dreams, emotions and struggles. Often what you are struggling with is also what you neighbour is battling with. Life is hard for all of us, so why not help oneanother out.

I used to be very pessimistic about being paid for creativity, but this is changing. It's lovely to see so many creatives making a living off of their work, and thanks to social media, it seems to be the way for future creative beings to create their life's work and fortune.

So here’s to a productive and meaningful creative journey.

And can someone please remind me to buy everyone a panettone Christmas cake next year, it’ll save me so much stress and worry!

Palermo is probably my favourite Sicilian city.

It's deeply flawed, with some parts of it literally falling to pieces, neglected and piled up with trash, but at its very centre, it is filled with history, life and specific bohemian energy.

Yes, I know some super poor and dangerous neighbourhoods, but every time I visit, I forget the faults and get swept up by their beauty and appeal.

The Italian word 'fascino' is a perfect way to describe Palermo. The city has a certain fascino (fa/sci/no), a certain seductive charm or attraction. The word fascino describes a sensual woman's beauty, a desirable sinful element that temps and attracts.

Palermo is like a good-looking ex-boyfriend; he charms you with his external beauty, and superficial attention yet mistreats you. You endlessly forgive him for his discretion simply because he is so charming.

Yet he will inevitably let you down again sooner or later. It's a dysfunctional and codependent relationship, but you keep returning to him.

I know Palermo will ultimately let me down. I will be frustrated by its chaos, corruption and filth, but when I visit now and then, I decide to treat him like an acquaintance. I won't ever fall entirely in love or in bed with him.

We are just friends and enjoy one another's company. He takes me to coffee, we go and see some art or to a concert.

Palermo will always have plenty of surprises for me. From cute little restaurants with good food, an alfresco place with the best aperativo, a walk in the pedestrian malls on a balmy summer night or some spectacular architecture to gawk over.

This week's image is from my first-ever visit to Palermo over a decade ago. It was a quick and rushed train rain, as is usual for a visit to the city.

I was able to look up and see the colours of this palazzo as I rushed back to the train station. The stonework around the balconies is a theme used all over Palermo. The golden-coloured stone is so beautiful, and in the Palermo sunshine, it glows like gold.

The palm trees are all over the city and remind me of the Arab domination of the town in the early middle ages, which saw Palermo transform into a terrestrial paradise filled with olive groves, citrus gardens and fountains that fed the city. 

I hate to be long-winded, so I will stop here for now.

I'll keep trying to write something worthwhile, well thought out and new here every week, perhaps more often if I get in some karmic writing zone.

This is a sparkly new newsletter, so I'll be trying out some new things over the next couple of weeks to test some ideas. I might play around with the format to add more value and structure. So be patient with my experiments, and please let me know your thoughts.

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Speak again soon.

With love and light from RDB

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