I am not keen on using analogies to get a point across. I once had a lively discussion on Ted Hope’s blog after a filmmaker likened his dedication to film to being similar to that of a priest’s dedication to God. I wasn’t so sure. However, I want you to indulge me for a moment whilst I try an obvious one.
I’ve already written about my terrible art technique in school, but I haven’t mentioned the effects. When anyone points out your creative weaknesses, you can quickly feel inadequate. It may be a teacher, parent, partner or friend, the effect tends to be the same; you want to stop. I believe it is because the courage of bringing something creative into this world can be intimidating. The fear that people won’t like it, or understand it, can be petrifying. Hence the emotional reward for getting something right is quite high, and it feels great when there is applause or even a slight sign of appreciation. Some artists like to say that they carry on with conviction that someone, somewhere, will ‘get’ it, or that it is for personal reward and everyone else can get lost. This has certainly helped me at some of my many low points, but the reality is that without an audience, it all seems a bit pointless.
A snail’s shell can protect them from some of their predators. Withdrawing inside the shell can provide shelter from immediate harm. Whilst a snail can hibernate it obviously cannot live it’s life entirely in the shell. You can probably see where I am going with this clumsy analogy. “Oh yes James! We try to protect ourselves from creative criticism by retreating into ourselves! What a clever use of analogy!” I hear you whisper. Actually, I think the thick layer of mucas that a snail uses to traverse over sharp objects is probably a better way of describing how we should deal with creative criticism! We shouldn’t withdraw into our shell, we should learn to gloss over thorny issues and carry on regardless! Actually, my analogy about snail shells was to illustrate that we are all capable of withdrawing, even without the presence of creative criticism. Fear makes us withdraw. Not just fear of criticism, but fear of violence, fear of ridicule. It sometimes feels like we are surrounded by a climate of fear that seems to encourage us to withdraw.
I don’t wish to pontificate about peace or love (or how filmmaking is like priesthood). I believe that being able to express yourself creatively, using whatever media or outlet that you choose, is an important part of our personal development. It takes bravery to bring any form of creativity into this world and it should be respected. It is easy to be destructive and far harder to be creative.
Back to the frailty of snails – the shell is weaker when it is younger and still developing. It is constantly developing and gets stronger as it gets older. So let us recognise development too. And that a shell doesn’t just pop out of a snail’s ass on the third birthday. It grows. And creativity should be seen likewise. When everything else is trying to be instant, craft can sometimes take time.
3 thoughts on “The frailty of snails”
Very well written! and so true. I loved the part where you say “We shouldn’t withdraw into our shell, we should learn to gloss over thorny issues and carry on regardless!”
Absolutely…here’s to some high level mucus in all our lives!
Thank you so much for visiting and your kind words! It feels great when people take part and we realise that others feel this way too. Here’s to some mucas in our lives!