Cult. Circuit #004: I am Your Inspiration.
Inspiration (noun).
1 - The feeling of wanting to do or express something, especially something creative.
2 - The polar opposite of what you feel when your grey matter is corroded with caffeine and thick with writer’s block.
3 - A divine, nebulous warmth, a whisper in your ear, the melted-chocolate satisfaction of a new idea, that is felt by all of humanity, except this magazine writer, at least right now.
Blocked
This article took longer to finish than I wanted, and now it’s taking even longer. I have a few other potential topics and some funny titles in the mix, but I thought it would be a good exercise in slugging through writer’s block, while being meta writing about inspiration. It’ll also set a tone where I can be sardonic and pass it off as witty.
Feeling inspired isn’t just about creating. You can be inspired to go for a run, or do that thing you’ve been putting off, or make that joke at dinner you instantly regret. I’m inspired by places, people, books – Whatever the source, there are always wells I go back to. But is there a way to synthesise a genuine, triple-distilled hit of inspiration? I think I’ve cracked it.
Couch-surfing
In my mind, when I get inspired (from what I remember when it happened) I feel like the protagonist at the end of the film. I’ve got a master plan, this subtle but vibrant confidence and certainty; a rush of wanting to jump into whatever idea I’ve had. I don’t have trouble with inspiration that often, but it comes (to perfect the cliche) when I least expect it. Right now, it feels like inspiration and getting inspired is some joke I’m not in on, some memo I’ve missed.
The perfect irony is that the idea for this article hit me like a wave. I could feel it swell, and then roar over me. In that moment, the mind’s swept up in it for preciously few moments. Then everything’s still. I have the idea, the memory of the wave ringing in my ears, but I’m dragging my feet through the shallows with sand in my hair, waiting for the vacuum of tension in the tide and the horizon to warp and rise.
I liked the idea that inspiration is some kind of spirit, a faerie in the shape of a lightbulb flitting from person to person, lighting up over their heads. There’s an idea out there that ideas flow from person to person until they find someone can express it to its potential. The second element in the formula is the courage to realise the potential. It’s easy to swallow, but a little boring. I thought a little harder about the question, “what inspires you?” – like it’s a secret. This makes sense to me. It’s the kind of question that you need to lead into, to set the mood for; it catches people off-guard, it’s difficult to answer, and in my mind I like to pretend, “no, it’s not because they don’t know the answer – they know full-well, they just want to keep it hidden”. Inspiration is like a rare element, inherently positive because people use it as a compliment – “Oh, that’s just inspired”.
Intermission
God, I was on a roll, now I’m blocked again; I’m second-guessing if my angle was actually good or if I just had a 90s-movie-sounding portmanteau of ‘inspire’ and ‘conspiracy’ and decided to roll with it. It’s an inspiration expiration (if you will). Action comes before motivation, and also before inspiration – inspiration, while it could come from aspiration, it can’t (based on my education) come from desperation. Sorry, I’ll get on with it already:
The seed of creativity is the new, even if inspiration can come from a source that already exists and has moved you so. You experience something new, putting into motion fresh thoughts, perspectives, and if you’ve got the guts for it, the creation of something new, built on that perspective. Right? Making sense? I’ve hurt my leg, getting out and about today is out of the question. Sorry if I’m being a bit short with you.
I’m telling you, it goes all the way to the top
Inspiration isn’t something you can just will into existence (don’t you think I’ve been trying?). Think of this as how to catalyse a reaction. It’s different for everyone, but seeing something, meeting someone, being somewhere you haven’t before, will inspire you. That’s a Joseph guarantee. After watching a new film, I will inevitably end up at home with my guitar in my hands. Base-Cast’s Creative Director, Toni, took his dog for a walk at a new beach spot he’d heard about – within weeks we had the crew back there bright and early for an editorial shoot.
Sydney is so unbelievably big that anyone who says they’ve seen it all is just lying to you. Go exploring. Find weird and/or wonderful nooks that look ordinary to everyone but you. Secret beaches, coves, hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Take it from me, sitting up late, writing this. It’s veryyyyy hard to feel especially inspired between 4 very same-looking walls. New.
Sites for Sore Eyes
Is this an ‘a-ha!’revelation? Yes, of course it is. You’re smart enough to have read this far, so you’re smart enough to know that maybe, you already knew (get it?) what you had to do to feel inspired. The answer was inside you the whole time. Give your brain something new to work on – inspiration is the catalyst; the first push that drives the reaction. Objects at rest need a push to realise motion.Isn’t this conclusion just inspired!?
These places inspire me greatly. You may have heard of them, but have you really seen them? Explored? I invite you in to dig deeper, to get inspired.
The Circuit.
Photos/Joseph AgiusBrown’s Rock
Off-road coastal walk down a shaded tunnel of trees to Brown’s Rock, a secluded fishing cove off Cronulla State Park. A walk with plenty of time to think, to then be totally cleared by a jump in the water. One of my favourite hideouts.
Photos/Joseph AgiusCentennial Park
It’s hard to believe that a park so close to the city could be as expansive and lush as Centennial. Ponds full of ducks, eels and turtles, paddocks, forests, a swamp – I don’t know if you’re more likely to get lost than inspired. The perfect place to wander and wonder.
Photos/Joseph AgiusKandos
While not technically Sydney, the regional-NSW town of Kandos is beyond inspiring. Its looming cement factory made a huge amount of the cement in Sydney’s own Harbour Bridge, and has been decommissioned for decades, hidden in the woods like Dracula’s castle. The Mountain sits sublime, like an ancient protector, at the town’s border. A short hike to the summit lets you overlook the whole town easily, and the surrounding valleys for literally as far as the eye can see.
Photo/@ramenauru InstagramRamen Auru, Chatswood
Certainly one of the most authentic Japanese restaurants you can find. You order ramen through a vending machine-style docket printer, remove your shoes and kneel at tables. The food is fantastic, its atmosphere is peaceful, and the immersion is subtle but incredibly pure: there are no signs yelling at you that this is ‘authentic Japanese cuisine’ – or at least there weren’t any I could read, everything was written in Japanese.
What happens when inspiration disappears halfway through writing about it? CULT. CIRCUIT Issue #004 explores creative block, new experiences and the places that get ideas moving again.