I enjoy trying to inspire myself. I enjoy the artistic side of

The words of Chris Kirkpatrick — “I enjoy trying to inspire myself. I enjoy the artistic side of everything. Music, art, fashion, everything. I just like to be on the cutting edge of it. I'm into designing houses and interior design. I like change. I like creating things out of nothing.” — reveal a spirit of restless creation, of a soul that refuses stillness, and finds meaning only in the act of invention and renewal. In these words, there is more than mere interest in art or design; there is a declaration of a way of life — that to be truly alive is to create, to transform one’s surroundings and one’s self again and again. For the ancient sages knew: the artist’s work is not only to make things beautiful, but to make the world new.

This love for inspiration, beginning not from others but from oneself, is a rare and noble impulse. It is easy to be inspired by the world — by music, by fame, by beauty that already exists. But Kirkpatrick speaks of something deeper — the power to ignite one’s own fire, to draw strength from within, to challenge the mind and heart to surpass yesterday’s limits. The ancients would have called this the work of the daemon, the inner spirit that drives one toward excellence. To “inspire oneself” is to become one’s own muse, one’s own teacher, one’s own wellspring of creation — to live not by imitation, but by authentic invention.

In his reverence for all forms of art — music, fashion, design, and creation — Kirkpatrick reflects the ancient belief that art is not a single craft, but a divine harmony binding all things. The Greeks spoke of techne — the sacred skill by which mortals mirror the creativity of the gods. Whether one shapes stone, composes song, or designs the space in which people dwell, the impulse is the same: to bring order out of chaos, beauty out of emptiness, something out of nothing. And thus, the artist becomes not merely a worker of materials, but a partner in creation itself, echoing the first light that shaped the world.

To like change, as Kirkpatrick says, is the mark of a courageous soul. For change is the test that many fear — it shatters comfort, it strips away the familiar. Yet, as every philosopher of old would tell us, change is the essence of life. The river that ceases to flow becomes stagnant; the tree that refuses to bend breaks in the storm. The artist, by loving change, aligns himself with the rhythm of the universe — a rhythm of continual transformation. To resist change is to resist life; to embrace it is to evolve, to ascend, to renew the self in infinite ways.

There is, too, a quiet power in his confession: “I like creating things out of nothing.” This is the heart of all artistry — and indeed, of all human progress. Every great monument of civilization began as nothing but a thought. The pyramids were once dreams in the mind of a builder; the symphonies of Beethoven were once only silence waiting to be filled. Even the modern world — its cities, its machines, its art — was once formless, invisible. Creation from nothing is the most divine of human powers, the act by which we step beyond limitation and participate in eternity. The ancients would have said that to create is to awaken the god within.

Throughout history, those who thrived on this divine restlessness have reshaped the world. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who saw no boundary between art and science, painting and architecture, invention and dream. Like Kirkpatrick, he was never content to remain in one realm; he sought to design, to imagine, to reinvent endlessly. His life teaches us that creativity is not confined to one discipline, but is a state of being — a way of perceiving the world with wonder and curiosity. Such souls live at the edge of the known world, always building bridges into the unknown.

Thus, the lesson of Kirkpatrick’s words is both simple and profound: to live is to create. Seek inspiration not from applause, but from the quiet voice within that longs to build and transform. Embrace change as a gift, not a threat, for it is the soil from which new art and new life grow. Dare to begin, even when there is nothing — for from nothing, all greatness is born. The true artist is not one who masters a craft, but one who continually recreates himself in pursuit of beauty and meaning. And if you can learn, as Kirkpatrick has, to find joy in this sacred act — to draw creation from emptiness and inspiration from your own heart — then you, too, will live not as a mere observer of the world, but as one of its builders.