Day 24 – Creativity
If you think of your life as a tapestry, what are the threads that have been with you as long as you can remember?
My primary thread has been creativity. The colour of the thread nay have changed over the years as I moved from painting and printmaking to photography and now writing, but the thread has been consistent.
It’s how I express myself, and what feels most natural to me.
Like this woman I came upon at a market in Santa Fe last year, I’m positive I will still be expressing my creativity as I get older. It’s part of who I am.
But how about you?
Do you own and acknowledge your creative gifts?
Or do you believe you are not creative?
Maybe you were told as a child that you were no good at drawing, writing, painting. . .fill in the blank.
It’s sad when that happens, when an adult says something that damages a child’s belief in themselves.
What if that adult was wrong?
cre·a·tiv·i·ty
– characterized by originality of thought; having or showing imagination: a creative mind
We are all creative in some way and just because you can’t draw a stick figure to save your life doesn’t make you less so.
Picasso said, “The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.”
To give that adult from the past the benefit of the doubt, let’s just say they were coming from a positive intent to keep you safe. And being creative, especially as a means of making a living, is not a safe path.
At 18 I knew I was going to art school, but for a few months I wavered as people who cared about me tried to convince me to study teaching or architecture; fields where I could presumably use my creativity while making a living.
Whether it was blissful ignorance or my stubborn Aries nature, I didn’t consider these options for long and found my way to art school as intended. But that’s a story for another day.
Today is an invitation to look again. Look through your grown up eyes, and see the threads of creativity that have been with you since childhood.
They are there.
You only have to look.
“The thing is to become a master and in your old age to acquire the courage to do what children did when they knew nothing. ” – Ernest Hemingway
Over to you:
- What threads of creativity run through your life?
- Which of them set your soul on fire?
#reverb11 is a prompt driven writing project during the month of December. Its purpose is to inspire reflection and create intention for the coming year.
I love this: these threads from childhood are what made me begin my pursuit of acting after nearly thirty years away from the stage. Now, I use acting in my teaching, in my poetry performance and the stage presence for so much more than just being on stage, although I just got news earlier today I was nominated for an acting award. I never thought I was very good at interior design, yet I took a class in high school and now am showing lots of love to my home and realize… wow. I am good at this!
I love what happens when you begin acknowledging your gifts rather than listening to those voices from the past! Woohoo Julie!
Storytelling is my creative gift…in fact with Christmas around the corner I’m reminded of a tradition I created as a child. I would get out a Christmas story and sit in front of the home video set up by my dad to retell it.
As an adult this tradition has been lost but I’ve continued my love for storytelling through my writing (and once every blue moon, through a bit of filmmaking).
Perhaps I’ll bring an aspect of that back in 2012? Mischief to be made…
Storytelling is such a gift and the world needs more of it, especially from someone like you who brings together all aspects of humanity Sabrina.
Mischief to be made…yes, indeed 🙂
I know all too well about what the words of an adult can do to the creative side of a child. I tried drawing when I was young and anytime my I showed my father a drawing I was particularly proud of he would accuse me of tracing it.
The same thing happened when I first attempted to write. We were handed composition notebooks in English class one day in 9th grade and told we had to start a journal. Wll there was no way I was going to write down anything about my life, not for anything, so I wrote a fictional story in journal form and handed it in. The next day in class I was pulled aside and asked if I wanted to write in English. I was allowed to sit at the computer for the rest of the year and work on anything I wanted to. I had to hand in what I had written everyday, to assure that I wasn’t sitting there messing about, and the teacher would basically act as an editor. I assume the basic premise was that I would learn enough about English this way.
When my father found the edited pages in my room, he went nuts. Told me I was wasting my time not only writing but in a school foolish enough to allow me to do it. It took me 20 years to even try again.
Jason,
As you shared in one of your posts upon finding out some of your father’s own painful past, he did the best he could with what he was given. Doesn’t make how he raised you ok, but it does allow for some compassion.
Your English teacher spotted your gift in grade 9. People reading you now see it clearly. That you persisted and picked it up again is a testament to your spirit. From over here it looks like writing is the thing that makes you come alive. Pursue that with everything you’ve got my friend.