A case of lost creativity… Or am I just taking a break?
How Kiki’s Delivery Service gave me a new outlook on my own creativity
This article contains spoilers.
Recently, 8 Miyazaki movies appeared on Netflix. And so, I found myself drawn again to their poetic universe, carefully composed dreamy landscapes, strong characters, cities belonging to another time, and unmistakable soundtrack. I savored every film once again like a delicious cake.
Just as the last time I watched it, Kiki’s Delivery Service had a long-lasting impact on me — much more so than other films, no matter how powerful they were. I still related a lot to the main character’s struggles, despite her being a thirteen-year-old witch in training and my being in my early thirties. I know that for many people, Kiki’s Delivery Service is a coming-of-age movie about becoming independent and finding your own voice. The Take, a superb channel on Youtube, explained how it referred to the struggles of starving millennial artists entering the workforce. To me, as a young creative, the core message of the film is slightly different: it is about the creative journey, from instinctive creations to self-introspection and finally developing your own style.
Like any person who likes to draw, write, or play music, sometimes I just don’t have that “fire” that gets me going. I don’t really know where to start. I’m hesitant about what I want to say. Or I will simply stare at a blank canvas before giving up. It can be pretty stressful, daunting even, to feel deprived of your usual ability to create, especially when part of your identity is built around your capacity to be the inventive one without thinking about it.
You might say: in the movie, Kiki is not an artist, but a witch. However, the parallel between magic and art is made very clear: both are based on a form of mysterious cyclical energy, which changes through time and experience. One of the characters, Ursula, makes that point as Kiki is in full identity crisis mode. I’ll get back to that in a second — but before I get into her words, I feel it is necessary to explain why her character is so important.
Ursula is a bit of a dream artist (to me anyway — If your role model is Jeff Koons, walk away). She lives in the woods for the summer, and is entirely dedicated to painting. You can immediately spot that Ursula is at a different life stage than Kiki whom she meets during a delivery imbroglio. Older, bolder, closer to nature, she is not affected by the stress of the city and does not have to hold down a demanding job like Kiki. Her look and her way of seeing the world exude confidence. She is a breath of fresh air. But, most of all, she plays a great role in reassuring the main protagonist who feels nothing but disillusionment with her life.
At this stage of the story, Kiki has started her delivery service on her flying broomstick with her sassy talking cat sidekick, the cynical Jiji. After a few deliveries, a series of unfortunate events trigger a sudden loss of confidence in herself : she doesn’t see the point of her business and feels constantly exhausted. One event in particular does it for her: a spoiled rich girl dismissing her grandmother’s special herring and pumpkin pie, stating that “she hates it”. On top of everything, she misses out on a date with her energetic friend Tombo (who clearly has a mega crush on her, but that is beside the point).
As a symptom of her disarray, she falls sick, but that is still not the worst. The next day, she realizes with horror that she can barely fly more than 2 meters (that is a bit of an issue when your entire business relies on your being able to fly), and cannot understand Jiji anymore. And that is a pity because Jiji is just the best. (Again — beside the point).
That’s when she reconnects with Ursula. When Kiki worries about her declining magical abilities, Ursula delivers one of the most important messages of the film: it is ok to not be able to create. It is a difficult journey, and you have to power through:
Ursula: “Painting and magical powers are very much the same. Sometimes, I’m unable to paint a thing.”
Kiki: “You mean it? Then what? What happens? Without thinking about it, I used to be able to fly. Now I’m trying to look inside myself to find out how I did it. But I just can’t figure it out !”
Ursula: “You know, you could be working at it too hard. Maybe you should just take a break !
Kiki: “Yeah but what if I still can’t fly?”
Ursula: “Then stop trying. Take long walks, look at the landscape, doze off at noon, don’t even think about flying. And then you’ll be flying again! It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”
The second part of the discussion expresses what we can gain from moments of self-doubt:
Ursula: “I loved to paint so much, I painted all day until I fell asleep. And then one day, for some reason, I just couldn’t paint anymore. I tried and tried, but nothing I did seemed any good. They were copies I’d seen somewhere before. It just seemed like I had lost my ability.”
Kiki: “That sounds like me!”
Ursula: “It’s exactly the same. But then I found the answer. You see, I had not figured out what or why I wanted to paint. I had to find my own style. When you fly, you rely on what’s inside of you. Trust your spirit!”
She then explains to Kiki that her painting is unfinished because she started it when she met the young witch. She got inspired by this unlikely encounter, and now that Kiki has come to visit again, she feels she will be able to pick up her brush and finish it.
What I find really comforting in this scene, is that an inspiring figure, a role model like Ursula, admits that she struggles too. She teaches us that it’s ok to not be able to channel our creativity when we need to. The comparison with magic is pretty interesting in explaining the beauty and mystery of creation, linking art to a mystical force (the qi, an intangible but vital energy.) For an early-career artist, with the constant pressure of posting on social media to make yourself known and work within the rules of an algorithm, this is a message of hope.
Captain obvious here — but it bears repeating — we are simply not in-sync with a machine’s rhythm. It is up to us to impose the beat of our own drum. Otherwise we might just turn our passion into an infernal repetition, by giving in to the pressure and posting on social media, or creating as much as is required at work. If so, prepare yourself to star in a remix of Modern Times, AI edition.
Being able to take your time, to do nothing even, is necessary in the creative process. We do have to admit that it is becoming increasingly harder in a world bombarded by a cacophony of images and sollicitations, and in which “taking your time” is not a positive value. But perhaps it should be. It is no accident that Kiki finds her energy back by recharging her batteries with her friend in nature, cutting herself from the pressure of the city. Nature always represents a sanctuary. It is sacred in all of Miyazaki’s films.
When creative energy flies away, your passion stops feeding you like it used to. Either because of external factors — stress, work alienation, other people — or because of your internal state of mind, which is often a mirror of your own experiences. The ultimate powerful message of Kiki’s Delivery Service, is that when you lose your creative energy, you can get it back by recharging and finding your why. And once it happens, you gain a better understanding of what it means to create — whether you’re an artist or not.
Another big message is the impact made by the people you meet. Ursula appears in the story after an incident, and even if we can feel it’s random, that encounter changes things for Kiki later on. In the movie’s final chapter, the affection she has for Tombo pushes her to help him. She finds her mojo back when the stakes are high — he is holding on to a rope at the back of a deflated airship threatening to crash.(spoiler alert: she saves Tombo and catches him mid-air, on a cleaning broom.)
At the end, Kiki’s outlook on the world and herself has quite simply changed. The final scene shows her cat Jiji curled up in her arms. He still can’t speak — or rather, she still remains unable to understand him. She just smiles at Jiji, although she would have freaked out before. Now, this is only my interpretation, but I feel that she is no longer scared of not being able to always control her magic. She simply smiles because she thinks: I know it will come back.
***************************************************************
Ursula’s tips to get your creativity back :
- train. (We often see Ursula sketching and practicing her art).
- if that doesn’t work, take a break. Take care of yourself, take a walk, give yourself some time.
- accept that it’s hard, and that moments of doubts will enable you to learn to find your own voice.
- create an environment in which you feel good (Ursula chooses to spend a summer in nature).
- follow your intuition and trust yourself. (In the story, Ursula senses that Kiki needs help, and doesn’t hesitate to invite her, without thinking too much about it. This has a strong impact on the rest of the story.)
