I’m a creative spastic.
Are YOU a creative spastic?
I often make light of my situation, and I’m also prone to assuming you, reader, have some idea what my words mean.
What is a creative spastic? What are the signs and symptoms, and WHAT IS THAT INFERNAL BUZZING NOISE?
A Creative Spastic refers to an organism that beer-bongs energy and then power washes creativity in the universe. This creativity might manifest as rhythmic gymnastics (waving ScoobyDoo-style linked sausages in place of ribbons) upon your neighbor’s trampoline, wearing a union suit, one strappy Jesus sandal, and a turban-style swim cap. Another creative spasm may involve raffia, a Segue scooter and loud chanting of the Mr. Belvidere instrumental theme song. Need I go on?
The Creative Spasm lasts hours or days in which the Creative Spastic devotes any/all available energy, headspace and time in creative pursuit…i.e. organizing bollo ties by color, size, texture, and sexual preference.
If you suspect someone you love is a creative spastic, look for the following signs and symptoms:
Mime typing in casual conversation—when someone doesn’t just say “and then I typed” but instead indicates silently with rapid crawly fingers. Mime typing is often accompanied by fast talking, house cleaning, and in conjunction with telephone conversation.
EXAMPLE
“So friend, oops, hold on (grabs toilet brush) so I thought of the most amazing idea and I didn’t want to forget it. So even though it was midnight I sat straight up in bed and ran to my computer and was all [MIME TYPING] Ah crap, I just dropped the toilet brush hold on…”
Emoticon eyes too wide, blinking, shifty, and in extreme cases—tipping a cowboy hat.
Gravity disrespect rather than walk, the creative spastic levitates and buzzes around the house at shoulder height. Similar to those dreams where you can fly, but it feels like doing the breast stroke–only faster and more animated. Accompanied by loud buzzing and propulsion. Picture my head on a bee body–Like that.THAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE INFERNAL BUZZING.
PHEW!
(TANGENT: autocorrect is anti-semitic. It changes PHEW! Into JEW! At least that is what a friend explained after I received her one-word email JEW! I’m taking her word for it. After responding CHRISTIAN! I’m taking her word for it)
Absence of normal conversation prompts paired with excessive impatience wherein creative spastic starts telling someone a story half-way through and cannot figure out why they aren’t following.
EXAMPLE
Me: So French, Italian, or Tagalog?
Husband: What?
Me: The root for our new last name.
Husband: We’re getting a new last name?
Me: Just for the restaurant.
Husband: What restaurant?
Me: It’s NOT a restaurant. It’s a food cart.
Husband: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.
Me: NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME (buzzes out the front door, around the block, flies back in through screen door, slams office door.
Loss of relationship to time/space continuum
EXAMPLE
Me: Why hasn’t he emailed me back? I can’t believe I haven’t heard from him. Time to rethink brilliant Scoobysnack rhythmic dancing idea, career trajectory, and gravity BUZZZZZzzzzzzz. Checks sent file: Email sent 7 minutes prior.
Uses fruit leather. Abuses fruit leather. OD’s on fruit leather.
WARNING: Often the creative spasm ends suddenly and existentially. She might appear catatonic and speak only in contractions (Ne’er. O’er, etc…) Do not intervene between her, the Cinnamon Chex, and the teeny-tiny THE POCKET PEMA CHODRON. They all need each other. And a good night’s sleep.
I think you’re part of my extended family. This is how we live. The good thing is we take turns being creatively spastic. Otherwise, it’d be hell when we all got together.
How is turning phew into Jew anti-semitic? Seems pro-Semitic to me…
unfortunately this pretty much describes a day in my life…it looks kinda weird all typed out like this.
Sigh. This is me. I will find a therapist now..
I’m going to need coffee to read this post, huh?
Please email picture of union suit/Jesus sandal trampoline romp ASAP.
Oh, yes. So sad.
But, who do we feel sorry for?
The creative spastic, or the husband?
My poor man, he spends 7/8 of his life just staring at my mouth open and close emitting phrases like “then I’ll.. and then we’ll…after that we can..”
HUH?
Segues are not okay. Ever.
OMG.. I spit my coffee out at “The pocket Pema Chodron”.
What, have you been spying on me?
At least now I have a diagnosis for all the buzzing around, compulsive fruit leather eating and jarring away at midnight with creative spasms.
I’m going to tell my husband this the next time I’m in the throes of it… “I can’t HELP it. I have a SYNDROME. I’m a Creative Spastic” Bzzzzzzzzz.
I was reading your post while alphabetizing my 80’s rhinestone jewelry collection and I just wanted to tell you I have no idea what your talking about. Except for the restaurant name thing. You’re friend’s an idiot if she can’t follow that!
UH to the HUH.
Is it true that tagalogs are a girl scout cookie? Would they be better named tagabons?
And don’t thin mints just make you fat?
Woo to tha Hoo….love this! So proud to have an official name for my madness, I mean name for me. Oops, name for myself. MYSELF. HA!
I’m substituting candy corn for fruit leather until my stash runs out.
Oh.my.goodness.
I also hear the theme song to Mr. Belvidere while I’m mentally writing the Next Great Novel while scrubbing the toilet.
You are my sister of the heart.
Only you, creative goddess, could coin “Gravity Disrespect”. I have Gravity Pandering these days as I can’t get my ass off a chair.
Seriously, best phrase since ‘Den of Slack’…this gravity panderer is watching Reality Bites right now.
End those spasms with triple contractions like I’d’ve and should’ve’nt and you can move come live with me.
I am frantically waving my toilet-brush in agreement!
BAPTIST!
XO
A.
Oh my goodness. Dying laughing, and so so glad to know I’m not alone in my crazy.
Steph
You forgot one important symptom — which is the Excessive Purchasing of Indispensable Gear with which to persue the creative spasm of the moment…such as, that one cannot merely take up knitting if one is a creative spastic. One must instead buy a spinning wheel and carding cards and learn to sort, card, and spin the yarn; dye vats to dye it; looms on which to weave it; large rolling tupperware containers in which to store it; and 138 different sizes and shapes of knitting needles, not to mention subscriptions to weaving magazine and non-refundable tickets to Peru because seriously? Have you *seen* the mad dying, weaving and knitting skills of the Peruvians?
Next month: salt water aquarium keeping….
Is it ok that I’m scratching my head? LOL!
I can relate to far too much of this post. But it does explain my head on a bee’s body. And Pema Chodron? Whom I believe is published by Shambala press? I used to perform the “Shamabala Chant” at my former publishing job. It always got a standing o.
From one creative spastic to another, brilliant.
Love your husband’s reaction. You are my favorite creative spastic.
I’m exhausted….
xo
NAMIOHO RENGEE I WILL CUT YOU!!!
I don’t think anyone has ever used the word “spastic” to describe me, but my slow motion version of this is no more intelligible.
I love the confused spouse conversation. That’s actually happened – hasn’t it? I usually limit my non sequiturs to a single exchange following silence. Like, “so I don’t think Spanish speaking people can be ventriloquists” (the Rs – think about it). Anyway – the response I get is more or less the same.