Tag: creativity

Why We Do.

When I was a little girl, I loved to write. Particularly sitting nearest the water’s edge, listening to the sounds of the creek coming to life.

The idea of wrapping thought into word both excited and intrigued me. As the ink flowed, I’d watch their tempoed pacing come to life on pages once barren to human view.

And in their wake, the gloriously unexpected – a sharing of heart through newfound connection. The impact of which might never be measured – for, how does one assess the effects of human kindness?

Though, would you believe a teacher once discouraged my course – humiliating me in before a class of my peers. “Ugh, why even try?” she droned with disapproval, “You know you’ll never amount to anything anyway…”

Truth be told, I nearly stopped writing – believing my thoughts not ‘good enough’ to be heard. Twenty years later, a dear friend pulled me aside – “You must write. You simply must.”

So, I did. And, everything changed – a community formed as hesitation relinquished.

That’s when I realized the answer was within me all along:

I try because I love. I do because it’s needed.

My darlings, in life there will always be these external forces trying their best to dissuade from this path before us.

That’s when the heart most speak louder, my loves. That’s when faith must carry us through.

Because, in the end, my dearest loves … it’s our actions which define us, not another’s ‘truth’.

In peace, my darlings ~ I love you all…

Namaste ❤️

When Less Means So Much More.

[blockquote source=”Natalie Babbitt”]“Like all magnificent things, it’s very simple.”[/blockquote]

I still remember my very first day of elementary school. I had spent weeks looking forward to this day – my mind spilling with the excitement of yet another brand new adventure.

My mother, an artist, had taken such great care to send me with only the very best of supplies – to include, a hand-stitched red stocking hat and a brand new box of 16 Crayola crayons.

The bus ride seemed to last forever. With every stop, I fidgeted impatiently. “Why must they walk so slowly?” The anticipation was nearly overwhelming, and…against my mother’s sternest of warnings, I pulled out that box and opened it.

The colors were so magnificent – mulberry and mint and a crisp shade of violet-blue. I ran my fingers of their ‘sharpened’ wax tips, imagining all the masterpieces I had yet to create.

I was like a child at Christmas waiting for Art Class to ‘arrive.’

9:56…9:57…then, finally, 10 o’clock!

I raced through my desk, eager to show off my newest acquisition. “My mom makes art,” I had rehearsed these words so many times over again in my head. I mean, with so many magnificent colors, I was certain that my artwork would be the best in town.

Until I looked around, and saw…that on every single desk surrounding me was a much larger box of 64.

I must say, I felt a bit betrayed. I mean, how could my mother has missed such a thing? She always took such great care in making sure we had all that was needed.

I watched as the others drew such bold scenes. Rainbows with indigo, and clouds traced with blizzard blue. Why, even the little girl sitting next to me drew a sun with 5 different colors.

With just 16 sad little colors, how could I ever compete?

I could hardly hold back the tears, as I walked through our kitchen door. The ‘masterpiece’ I’d created earlier had been relegated to the very bottom of my book bag. I was simply too embarrassed to share it with my mother, ‘the artist.’

I must have cried for at least an hour before my mother entered my room – in her hand, the uncrumpled drawing I had so desperately tried to destroy.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a tree more magnificent than this,” she smiled as tears formed in her eyes. You see, what I had assumed might be destined for the trash, was – for my mother – the greatest expression of love.

And, it had absolutely nothing to do with the number of crayons I had used to create it.

You see, love comes from within, my darlings…and creativity, is an expression of our joy.

“I believe that we are all creative beings and that no matter what you’ve been told – you were placed here on this earth to create something of value to the world. Something that will help others break free, something that lights you up with passion and something that is larger than just you.” – Mastin Kipp

That little tree, in all of its simplicity, had the capacity to transform my mother’s whole world.

Because, my dearest darlings…in art, as it is in life…sometimes less is more.

Preserving the Heart of the Child Artist Inside.

[blockquote source=”Pablo Picasso”]”Every child is an artist. The problem is staying an artist when you grow up.” [/blockquote]-

Indeed, my darlings – how to preserve that spirit of innocence, when all our world seems crushing in.

To believe beyond all shadows of doubt, that this life – is indeed limitless.

When we are young, we paint the sky every brilliant color known to man – a hint of ‘Sunset’, a dapple of ‘Burnt Orange’, and every Blue from ‘Indigo’ to ‘Cerulean’. Never mind the matching of hues, what we *felt inside* became our universe.

That’s the very thing artist Pablo Picasso wished, that every child remain – in spirit – an indomitable force of artistry.

“Ideas are simply starting points.” he began. “I can rarely set them down as they come to my mind. As soon as I start to work, others well up in my pen. To know what you’re going to draw, you have to *begin* drawing. What I capture in spite of myself interests me more than my own ideas.”

My darlings, when we were much younger – we drew without the burden of reason. And, never knowing what these colors might reveal – until the last pop of ‘Razzmatazz’ completed our picture.

Every child is an artist, my dears – and the energy of this child artist is always within.

When we allow ourselves to….just begin.

I’m going out to pick up a box of Crayolas today. Now, who will be joining me today?

Let’s come back and post our drawings here 🙂

Much love, my dearest darlings ~ <3