Is Creativity The Art of Concealing Our Sources?

It has been said that “Creativity is the art of concealing your sources.” But what does that mean? Is it about passing off other people’s work as your own? Or is it less about copying influences and more about concealing them like seeds in the soil?

In this episode of The Gentle Rebel Podcast, we explore what this looks like and consider the impact on our natural creative spirit when we do (or don’t) conceal our sources in healthy ways.

The randomiser prompt wheel selected this phrase for me on Tuesday ahead of our Serenity Island Picnic. I’ll be honest, when I first saw “Creativity is the art of concealing your sources”, I was tempted to spin again. But, I gave it a go and found a few interesting threads to pull at.

Concealing Our Sources Like Seeds

Concealing our sources about misleading or deceiving. It’s about letting inspiration settle deep enough that it becomes more than it is. Like planting a seed. We don’t bury seeds to hide them; we bury them so they can grow. Our influences need space, time, and darkness to take root and become unique to us.

This applies not just to creative work, but to life itself.

When Sources Weigh Us Down

Sometimes, a source casts a heavy shadow. I remember when I started writing songs and held everything up to my Thom Yorke-ometer. I compared what I created with what I believed Radiohead would produce, ignoring the other sounds and voices that wanted to be involved. This had an impact on my creative freedom until I let go of the desire to emulate the music I loved, capturing instead what truly inspired me about the band.

The Subtle Power of Concealment

The word “conceal” can sound suspicious, like trickery or withholding. But it can also be a positive source of protection and consent. Sometimes we need to conceal our sources from those who want to steal, exploit, or imitate without effort. Or those who want more information than we are comfortable or willing to share.

We also sometimes need to conceal our sources from ourselves, especially when they become yardsticks for comparison and judgement. When a parent, mentor, or idol takes up too much space in our heads, our actions can become reactions. Instead of creating from a place of freedom, we’re trying to impress, appease, or prove something.

Our Creative Lineage

At the beginning of Meditations, Marcus Aurelius devotes an entire section to acknowledging how family members, teachers, and the gods (both directly and indirectly) shaped his character, values, and worldview. For example, honesty from his father, humility from his mentor, resilience from hardship, etc. This collection starts on a platform that essentially rejects the romaticised idea we often hear about today with people described as “self-made”.

I thought about the deep processing a highly sensitive person does and the impact of SO many things on influencing who and how we become.

Each of us has a creative lineage/heritage. We are shaped by countless sources—people, experiences, stories, relationships, and chance encounters. Some sources give us strength, others weigh us down with expectations and demands.

Some we learn directly from (we receive wisdom from the example they set). Others we learn indirectly from (we are invited to grow in response to the example they set). We are all a messy mix. And while we are infused by them, we are not defined by them.

Here are some reflection questions we used in our Serenity Island picnic earlier this week.

• Who or what would you consider part of your creative lineage?
• What part of that lineage feels overgrown, overweight, or overbearing right now?
• What might shift if you pared that influence back, cut it out, or intentionally replanted it as a new seed again?
• Which elements of your lineage would you like to feature more of and amplify in your life?

These are the questions we explored together at the Serenity Island Picnic. Learn more about the course here.

Creativity isn’t about pretending we’re original. It’s about transformation. It’s about letting sources become part of our soil, rather than dragging them around like monuments we have to live up to.

Let them settle, shape, and grow.

Join The Conversation

If this stirred something in you and you want to explore ideas like this more deeply, you’re welcome to join us inside The Haven community. Already a member? Read what others are saying here.