The Nightwalking Creatives

Season 2, #2: Finding positivity in a mostly solitary, moody activity

No, they’re not zombies, although some people might count them as such.

And it might take more than a casual acquaintance with them before you start to feel…well, in the presence of “someone scary-ish.”

Who are they? They are the Nightwalking Creatives.

Uh, yah. Okeeey. So what’s Nightwalking?

Here’s a primer:

Clear as mud, mate.

Fair enough.

“Nightwalking” is a made-up word, granted.

Then again the world is full of made-up words. In fact, humanity thrives on made-up words (aka portmanteau words, like “motel” or “brunch”). They’re fun, they’re socially stimulating, they’re inventive—but they can be easily misunderstood, reviled, or even just ignored.

I’ll break it down.

“Night” has different connotations depending on your own experience with it. In centuries past, nighttime was a terrifying recurring experience evincing respect, dread, and ritualistic behaviors to mitigate its ominous passing. As an older adult, I prepare for it and respect that it’s a time for me to rest. When I was younger, I was energized and inspired by it—hungry to escape the house and wander the streets, fascinated by how nighttime seemed to carry sounds differently and how lights distant or near played on my imagination.

“Walking” implies action, but definitely not highly active movement like running, jogging, or sprinting. It’s leisurely and at whatever pace the moment requires. If I’d meant “Nightjourneying” or “Nighttreking” then that would imply a goal or destination. “Nightwandering” is a very nice choice and more in line with my original intent. To add to that, it’s a self-imposed disruption—that is to say, I’ve chosen not to stay in but to go out wandering at night, a potentially dangerous activity, only to connect my feet (walking) with my brain and emotions (thinking and feeling) but in the nighttime.

Nightwalking seems sad, but even so I’d insist it be done alone; it’s a solitary activity. “Can I go Nightwalking with you?” is an absurd question. LOL.

I can only imagine my response:

Me: You want to what?
Friend: Go Nightwalking. With you. Right now.
Me: No.
Friend: [gapes in amazement]
Me: Later. [leaves]

Rude, right? Well, I did say Nightwalking is a dark emotion. And dark emotions need to be dealt with, even though there’s no cure for it so just let each to his own and see you on the backside. To be honest, you could go Nightwalking with someone, but it’s not a particularly expansive activity and you’ll likely say little to each other on that walk.

My earliest memories of a “Nightwalking sense” came from music and literature—murky, moody tunes and stories by Poe or even the early paintings of Vincent van Gogh. These days have been strangely Nightwalking-free (the first week of November was the only hint of it, but things turned a corner mid-month). However, I’ll continue to pursue the issue of Nightwalking’s insistence on solitude and reflection—which does dovetail nicely with this prewinter time of year.

For example, take a gander at this photo I shot while out on a walk.

What catches your eye is the light and shadows on the leaves, right? It does the same for me, but even more so, the dark space between the leaves—almost a vortex of mystery that goes down to the roots—that’s also interesting, and probably serves as a visual metaphor for Nightwalking’s attraction.

“…a vortex of mystery that goes down to the roots.” (Photo by StoryShed Media)

It’s those interstices between the leaves—as much of the whole as the other parts. Maybe that’s why despite its melancholy and “darkness,” I’m willing to fight for Nightwalking’s place in my personality triad between Daytalking and Stargazing. Is there a fourth aspect? If so I haven’t discovered it yet.

When have you befriended your darker moods and sourest feelings?

What did you learn in the process?

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Thanks to all the new subscribers of the StoryShed Substack! Over the past month a couple dozen new peeps came onboard and I’m happy you’re here. Please chime in and say say hello if you’re so moved:

Announcement: The Guy Stevens Weather Report launches Dec. 1 as a paid-only sub-publication to this always-free newsletter!

Primarily about my other loves, music history and a spec TV drama series I’m currently working on, the debut post is titled “Pop Music’s Crazy Origin: ABBA picks up where a 19th century songwriter leaves off.”

I hope you’ll check it out.