Norwegian artist, Edvard Munch, created “The Scream” in spite of or perhaps because of his own admitted bouts with anxiety. I find this oddly comforting. I certainly have no delusions of grandeur: painting a masterpiece, writing a novel. And yet from a simple creativity perspective, perhaps rather than viewing my own melancholia as a weakness, I can instead channel it into something that is authentic and meaningful.
“My whole life has been spent walking by the side of a bottomless chasm, jumping from stone to stone.
Sometimes I try to leave my narrow path and join the swirling mainstream of life,
but I always find myself drawn inexorably back towards the chasm’s edge,
and there I shall walk until the day I finally fall into the abyss.
For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety
which I have tried to express in my art.
Without anxiety and illness I should have been like a ship without a rudder.”
— Edvard Munch