Marie Taylor, Ink

There was a popular book titled “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” that discussed how modern transportation and refrigeration allowed people to have a wide selection of food from which to choose. This book title came to mind when I was evaluating the food that gives me sustenance as an artist and writer.

I have a vast cornucopia of resources; to whit, everything and everyone is grist for my creative mill. The question I put to myself was, what is my responsibility towards those I may make a meal of at some point in the future?’

I am not really a fiction writer so I cannot hide behind a slippery statement such as, “I made it all up;” nor do I change the names to protect the innocent. When I write about my neighbor Gina, for example, that is her real name and what I am saying is true – at least from my point of view. Or, when I reminisce about a friend or relative from childhood, I am telling the truth, to the best of my recollection.

So, I asked myself what would Gina say if she read what I had written about her? Would she see it humorously or would her feelings be hurt? Would she view it as an invasion of privacy or be flattered to be written about? Even though I have a great fondness for Gina, did my rendering of various situations in the service of humor do injury to her?

I think these are real questions that every creative person must ask, for people are our raw materials. In creating art we look at others with some degree of clinical detachment; perhaps showing how they reflect the outlines of an archetype; or play the villain or buffoon in the human comedy. We use people as engineers use steel, or bakers use flour, or mathematicians use numbers. They are the puppets in our Punch and Judy show.

Did satirists like Swift and Voltaire or the great political cartoonists have second thoughts about those they portrayed? Or did they believe that by virtue of their fame or infamy they deserved to be the targets of a greater scrutiny and assessment?

The portrait painters of high society walked a greased tightrope for they had to render their subjects who were paying dearly for the privilege, in a somewhat favorable light. How much light do you shine on that big nose or those mean little eyes or slack and aging jowls? How much of the soul do you dare reveal – and have you as an artist the confidence that what you are seeing is true and not a projection of your own prejudice.

If a writer is within your circle of acquaintances, you can be sure that sooner or later, you or some personal experience of yours will end up in a story, essay, poem or play. You may not recognize it at first but it will be there. The seemingly random comment coming out of some character’s mouth might seem strangely familiar. The erotic encounter described in lusty detail in the best selling novel might provoke a sense of déjà vu.

If you want to keep your secrets secret, never date a poet for the most intimate and sacred moments you shared will one day be loudly read in iambic pentameter by suburban book clubs. The only saving grace is that few people read poetry today. Unless you have the misfortune to be in a relationship with a really famous poet, only a few graduate students will ever want interview you for their thesis.

Songwriters are a somewhat safer bet because their lyrics have to appeal to the masses and are thereby more general – unless the breakup was very public or very bitter in which case it’s best to change your name or move to Paraguay.

Another good bet for dating within the creative tribe are artists — not the cartoonists who often have a mean streak under their word balloons, or the caricaturists who are the true anarchists of the visual arts. The serious oil painters can be trusted as casual friends but not lovers. Safety lies with the abstract expressionists. Nobody will ever recognize your countenance, let alone your backside, among the drops, splashes, streaks and spills of their passionate declarations.

The safest creative association is with novelists, I believe. They have to create such long and convoluted plots that your particular eccentricities and foibles will be spread over many characters and many chapters. Unless he or she is a real blabbermouth, the odds are in your favor that there is little chance of recognition by your parents, ex-partners or co-workers.

Finally, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is a “caveat emptor” situation in swanning about in the creative pool. Let the buyer beware. If, by any twist of misfortune, you find yourself near — or even suspect you are being observed — by any of the creative types, I urge you to be extra alert.

Take the necessary steps to safeguard your privacy. Watch for the bulging pocket which can contain a sketchbook. Beware of fancy phones that come loaded with cameras and recorders. In particular, be cautious of any slightly seedy person wearing glasses and a cardigan sweater slouching in the corner of the local coffee shop.

And you can quote me on that!