It turns out that I’m a big fan of the film Gladiator. There are a lot of reasons for this, from the writing, acting, and direction fronts. I’m a fan of Ridley Scott, Russell Crowe, and I do like the way it was filmed quite a lot.
It’s also one of those films that I have in my mind quite often, due to a particular line rolling around in my head. It’s also true of The Incredibles, Braveheart, and a number of other films, and Gladiator‘s line is this: “What we do in life, echoes in eternity.”
Now, certainly, the swell of one my favorite movie scores by Hans Zimmer helps my love of that scene. But it’s also something that sticks in my head because of what I want to do with my life. As a creator, be it writer, or artist, even filmmaker, I want nothing more than to live forever.
However, that pesky old science reminds me that I can’t live forever. Damn.
In fact, I’ve been reminded quite a few times this year that we all have a finite time on this little dirty rock of ours. From high school friends passing away from cancer, other friends who were in serious, life threatening accidents, and plenty of friends with serious health problems, the world reminds me quite often that time is of the essence.
As I’m coming off of a year-long, sorely needed hiatus, I’ve come to the realization that my priorities have been rearranged. In the past several years, through quite a rough patch in my life, I reached a point where I needed to pause and get things right. At the end of the hiatus, I realized that my ideas have really come full circle from my beginnings as an artist.
At the beginning of my illustrated life, some fifteen years ago was when I was first published, I could see only three goals. I wanted to do cover art, I wanted to be in the prestigious Spectrum annual, and I wanted to be in a gallery.
All three goals of those took a mere two years.
One of my echoes: Gravity’s End by Russell Dickerson
From that time until my hiatus began in 2013, as much art as I created, I had no real sense of what I wanted to be when I grew up. More importantly, why I wanted to do the things that I was doing.
The hiatus began simply because I could not say exactly what I wanted. Sure, I wanted to make money as an artist, and get fame and acknowledgement, and all of the things that go along with being a known artist. But those were just a means to an end, they weren’t really why I wanted to create things. They were benefits, and nothing more.
The hiatus only ended on the day that I realized the truth. More than anything, I wanted to live forever. Not in form, of course, since that form is in many ways already failing. Living forever means creating art, stories, and all manner of other things that will far outlast this fragile human form of mine. To make an impact on those around me now, and those in the future, through the passions that I put on the page.
None of us can know when our ends really will come. It could be sitting here while you are reading this. It could be from an alien stabbing you after you were frozen in the ice for a thousand years. I, for one, don’t want to reach that moment and see that I’ve accomplished nothing, and touched no one.
The only way to make that happen might also be the simplest idea of all. Simply, do it. Forget about critics, or what your family thinks, or the condescension so prevalent against creative types. Put aside your fears, and start creating the things you love. Not the things that will sell, not the things that you think people will love. Create from who you are, be unique and take the chances that life affords us.
We all have an end to meet, the final stop in our journey. As creators especially, it is the journey to that end that defines who we are, and what we are willing to do to live forever in the hearts of the people around us. No matter what my end is, I want to look back at the creations I’ve made, and know that the journey was worth it.
The journey, all of those creations we’ve made, are the pieces of who we are that truly can echo through eternity.
Russell Dickerson has been a published illustrator, author, and general malcontent since at least 1999. His work has been included in the prestigious Spectrum annual, and he has created art for many publishers and authors. He resides online at www.darkstormcreative.com.