Earlier today I was scrolling through Tumblr when I saw that one of my friends had reblogged this:
Instantly, I made a noise similar to this because originality never really existed. Everything in the world is merely recycled ideas as it is since no one ever really truly comes up with something by themselves—we’re unconsciously inspired by the world around us to do so. Besides, that’d require for the mind to be a blank slate completely free of all ideas that’s ever crossed its path.
The beauty in originality falls in how the individual blends all their prior inspirations and opinions into a final product. Take this piece of artwork for example:
—a perfect example in how beauty is truly in the eyes of the beholder. The artist probably had initial fascination with shadow art, then worked with trash until they manipulated it into something rather incredible.
Originality steams from two main things:
1) Exposure to inspiration or experience
2) How the individual transforms what’s in their life.
Why do you think so many writers suffer depression? Because the depression itself exposes them to emotions so rich that they transform it into stories—just like JK Rowling.
Originality isn’t dead—it’s thriving everywhere we look.