A friend of many years asked me recently about the source of my creativity. I had never thought of it in quite that way. I am from a creative family. My grandfathers, father and brother are Irish storytellers, my father a carver in bone, my brother Jerry a self-taught artist along with my mother. My brother, Pat is incredibly poetic, even though his dyslexia is a haunting factor. If he had patented all of his metal fabrications, he would be famous for them.
I loved the beauty of words on a page, even before I could read. Coming from a creative family is a factor. Living in the beauty of the Western United States for most of my life is another.learned early to look for the first crocus of spring, to listen for the first cricket, and to be outdoors at the time of sunrise and sunset. I developed an artist's eye, to see beyond a stand of buffalo grass to what lay beneath, and what over eyes had observed similar grasses.
I have always encouraged students to honor their own creativity. We don't have to be artists, or dancers, or writers to be express our creativity. It can be in the way we dress, the way we decorate a room, or plant a garden. We all know people who live creatively, who are different from the norm.
Dare to be different. If colors are drab according to fashion, wear brights because they suit you better. You don't need to be stylish if you don't like what style is. Be you, but first you have to discern who you are, or who you want to be.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)