A creative dead end can produce wonders.

That was proved to me once again in a most dramatic way. It
involved the cover design of my new book, a provocative biblical
novel, titled, “Abraham, The Dreamer / An Erotic and Sacred Love
Story.”

I had submitted my thoughts for the cover design to the
publisher (iUniverse.com). I explained that the story is about a
love triangle, involving Abraham, his wife Sarah, and her
handmaid, Hagar, “the other woman.” I suggested that the cover
capture that relationship.

Of course, there’s much more to the story, and I filled in the
details at some length. After all, this is not a contemporary
novel in a contemporary setting. We are talking about life 4000
years ago, with its many gods and goddesses, its child
sacrifices and erotic Sacred Marriage Rites. Abraham’s wife,
Sarah, could very well have been, what I portray her to be, a
high priestess serving Inanna, the great goddess of Love and
War. We have Abraham, who turned against his society to follow a
new and different God. What made him do that, I wondered, as I
tried to recreate his life and tell his story. Furthermore, what
made him transfer his love from Sarah to Hagar?

I tried to give the designer a sense of the individuals and of
the story that lay hidden in the laconic biblical account.

When the cover design came back to me I knew I was in trouble.
The artwork suggested a knightly romance set in England during
the Middle Ages. But the story is about Sumer, Canaan and Egypt,
and nomadic, biblical characters who lived some three thousand
years before the Middle Ages. How could the designers have been
so far off the mark? I learned, what I had not known before,
that the design department was not set up to provide original
artwork. The designers could only work with existing stock art
and clip art. Though plentiful, this art could not produce the
“look” that I was looking for.

I was now faced with two problems. First, a deadline. I had
about two weeks to come up with an idea that could be made to
work. Otherwise, the book would be canceled and I would have to
start with it all over again as a “new” project.

Second, I didn’t know if I could come up with a satisfactory,
workable cover idea. I considered hiring an outside graphic
artist. A quick check indicated that there would not be enough
time for this and that it would be costly, if not prohibitive.

So I did what was only proper under such circumstances: I
freaked out! Or, to be perfectly honest, I freaked out — some
more! I was desperate. I knew I had to stop thinking about the
original cover concept. I had to stop my circular thinking, or,
to put it another way, I had to start thinking outside the box.
In short, I had to think creatively.

The creative process itself is elusive. It works in a most
mysterious way. It usually consists of stating the problem,
defining it and turning it over to your mind to think about and
solve. I have often found that the answer, the solution comes to
me when the mind is relaxed and at rest. Invariably, I wake up
at two or three in the morning. At first I’m annoyed. I wonder
why I woke up. Then I lie quietly. Presently, I become conscious
of some answer or solution to a “problem” floating into view.

The first thought that came this way was “lapis lazuli.” I had
used lapis lazuli jewelry in the book on several significant
occasions. The gold-speckled, deep-blue gemstone was highly
prized in those times. In the book, it is presented as a gift to
Sarah, the high priestess, during the Sacred Marriage Rite.
Elsewhere, I have Abraham giving Hagar a lapis lazuli necklace
and matching earrings upon consummating their love. A lapis
lazuli-colored scarf also figures meaningfully in the story.

“Yes,” I thought to myself. “That’s it! That’s my cover. A lapis
lazuli necklace and earrings and a lapis lazuli scarf. A perfect
metaphor for the full story.”

I was elated, exhilarated. I loved the simplicity of the idea,
the richness of the deep-blue color, the poetic symbolism.

But there was only one problem: I could not locate images of the
scarf and jewelry. I even had trouble locating an image of a
lapis lazuli gemstone. Though I still had a couple of days left
to find the right image, I now feared that my book would be
canceled since I had nothing for the cover.

I paced nervously through the house that evening, going back and
forth between bedroom and study. I paused before my nature
pictures which cover the walls, photographs that I had taken of
sunrises and sunsets, lakes and oceans, trees, flowers and
clouds. I don’t know why I turned to these images — perhaps to
relax me, to comfort me, to inspire me, which they have always
done. Suddenly, my eyes fixed on a blazing red sunrise, with a
white cloud spiraling into the sky, hovering over a dark lake.

Whenever I looked at that spectacular image, in the past, it
always left me awed and breathless. This time, however, the
sunrise addressed me in a new way — its blazing colors spoke to
me of erotic passions, its cloud spiraling upwards spoke to me
of the sacred and the heavenly, of dreams and dreamers, the
fiery pillar emerging out of the darkness spoke to me of the
immanent and transcendent God, the great Mystery, the awesome
Mystery, the holy Mystery, the loving Mystery in which we move
and live and have our being.

Yes, this was the cover! This was my cover! It had emerged from
the wondrous mystery of the creative process. It reminded me,
once more, to stay loose, remain flexible and trust that
process, that Mystery, in all its creative variations.

Copyright 2002 Rolf Gompertz. All rights reserved.