creativity

My mom once told me that she wished she was creative. Her mother sewed beautifully - was a costume designer for a Broadway star many years ago - her sister was an art teacher.

She didn't see the things she did, and took for granted, were amazingly creative. She's a baker and took such care and paid such attention to presentation and detail. I remember there was always a rejects pile - cookies and tarts that didn't live up to her high standards - we gratefully were allowed to eat those right away.

My daughter wishes she was more of an artist. She doesn't paint or draw the way her friends, who are in the fine arts programs do. But she has more creativity, more original ideas, more unique projects, more inspiration than just about anyone I've ever met.

People think of creativity within such tightly drawn boundaries at times. If you can't recreate a perfect still life or play the violin like a master what you're doing doesn't count as creative.

Nonsense.

(it took me a long time to realize that)

I was such a creative kid only I thought the things I made, crocheted, sewed, designed weren't worth anything. I couldn't draw or paint realistically. And I didn't know what I was doing might be valued by anyone. Not monetarily but for originality or crafting or even perseverance.

My life as a graphic designer, as a writer, as a knitter, jewelry maker, costumer came after years of being shut down and shut off. In retrospect not having a creative outlet was soul starving.

This new endeavor - imagining projects, shopping for supplies, crafting disparate pieces into a finished whole, photographing my work, writing about it - is pure, joyful flow.

Now that I'm back to making things, I will never stop.

Click here for what I'm making now.