When God Hit Publish

This is just an unfinished thought, which is probably ironic; the thought centers around the idea of what happens after a creator releases their creative work into the world. The operative word here isn’t create, it’s release. When a band produces an album, the date everyone anticipates, and the one we look back on decades later, is its date of release. The creator no longer clings to the project in their studio, it’s not bouncing around the offices of industry executives and marketing networks . . . it’s released to the public. The creator lets it go. No more changes. No authority over how an audience will interpret it. No direct connection between this creative work and any other creation or any revelation about the creator’s character.

What triggered this thought was a concept from Rick Rubin’s book, The Creative Act: A Way of Being, though I can’t find the exact quote (I read almost everythin by audiobook, sue me). The idea was that once we put a work of art into the world, it’s no longer ours. So that got me to thinking: What if the creator of this universe was like any other creator of any other creation we know?

What if the universe were The Cosby Show and the creator was Bill Cosby? What if the universe were Star Wars and the creator was George Lucas? What if the creative counterpart to our existence was the Mozart to our Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, and he’s decomposing in a potter’s field in some ethereal plane?

I’m stewing over this and will have more thoughts later. For the time being, though, I’d love yours. Please release them.

Thank you for reading Under Deconstruction. This post is public so feel free to share it.