In the wild.

Ideas cannot be protected.

Because ideas are like air. All around and formless, in the same omnipresent way that believers define God.

One of the things I’ve struggled with as a creator is trusting others with what I create.

I would imagine I’m not the only person who’s ever felt this way. Uncertainty is bound to surface where copious amounts of soul searching and sleepless nights have gone into birthing some kind of tangible proof that you were in fact, here.

In an ideal world designed by me I would love for my ideas to be handled with care, and for the people I share them with to react honestly – whether they love it, hate it, or wish they’d created it.

But that’s not how it all works, I’m learning.

Ideas can’t be contained. Really, they shouldn’t be. Why cage something that was meant to fly, and soar and sing?

There’s no controlling what anyone will or won’t do with an idea. How they might see it, not see it, change it, use it.

That’s the point of something so powerful that it can take on any language, any form. Ideas can be whatever we want them to be, because thoughts are ideas and so are dreams.

Each was born in the wild, and each will continue to thrive there.

The truth is that even with all the reasons in the world to protect the extension of our purpose, the act of protection goes against what the artist stands for and defends – that no conditions shall ever be placed on expression, inspiration and perception.

When we hold back even one creative thought from becoming everything it could be, we are breaking the laws of art – a risk not worth taking.

Certainly not for the sake of our ego – the most feeble and fleeting thing of all.

A creative breathes ideas and bleeds creativity.

So at the essence of everything I do is an unrefined faith in my purpose, which is to make something that’s meaningful to me.

Whatever happens to all of it in the wild was never up to me in the first place.