Is it the case that the creative process is almost always autobiographical at its heart? An example:
In the past week, two events of significance took place in the life of the person updating this blog:
a) I opined that my ex-partner should never contact me again;
b) I opined that I should look for alternative employment during a consultation with my manager.
The first was a sober e-mail exchange; the second a quiet-voiced conversation. No causality exists between the two. The creative process, however, allows speculative twists and trails without end.
Dateline: Monday June 2, sometime in the afternoon.
The two men walked up the stairs of their workplace in more-or-less silence, save for the periodic beating of their feet on the carpet.
The taller man was the senior of the shorter one, and the company's dress code made this self-evident. It was a Monday afternoon during what passed for summer in England - weak sunshine deflecting off teeming droplets of rain - and the pair were headed for a dark corner room for a 'quick chat.' Those two words are a 21st-century euphemism. We'll call the two men 'management class' and 'subordinate,' as the capitalist society prefers that real names, which hold no meaning, are abolished in favour of validation statements.
After the heavy door lumbered shut behind them, the pair of them sat down and began to talk. By dint of a microphone carefully hidden in an ornamental bowl of fruit, I can present to you a transcript of their conversation.
MC: So. Can you think of any reason why I might have taken you out of work to bring you up here today?
S: I would assume it's something to do with the direction the company's going in. I'm aware that some announcement has been made. That, then, would be my supposition.
MC: Not exactly. It is true that an announcement was made. I'll brief the team on that later. But no, we're up here because - unfortunately - someone's complained about you. Can you think why?
S: I'm not sure, and I mean that. As far as I can understand, the quality of my work is good, and nobody's given me any reason to think otherwise. Is that not the case?
MC: Do you remember.... sending an e-mail the other day when you were on your break? Does that ring any bells with you at all?
S: An e-mail, you say? Well, yes, I remember. It wasn't work-related, though.
MC: I quote: "It's better if you just fuck off. Whatever constituted my life disappeared when you left it. I can't believe that you have the audacity to contact me. You might as well ask me to put my heart in a box and send it over the water to you. Just fuck off. I'm sick of it."
S: I accept that I shouldn't have used such coarse language - certainly not on a work computer. I apologise to you and to the company for that.
MC: I'm sorry to have to tell you that you've broken clause 13(c) of your contract of employment regarding the bringing of emotional baggage into the workplace. 13(c) clearly states that emotional baggage must be left either at home, or in a designated locker in the reception area.
S: I have to confess that I never really read my contract before I signed it....
MC: I'm not sure that the company will regard that as an adequate defence. There are, unfortunately, options open to us in the light of what you sent.
S: Options?
MC: The company, I have to tell you, have taken a dim view of your actions. There are, as I said, options available to us. These range from pelting you with Jelly Babies from a moving juggernaut to giving you a paper cut. So you can see how seriously we're taking this.....
