What is Creativity?

Antique Illustration, Artist Unknown

Rhythm and rhyme, poetry, painting and piano. These things I got from my mother. Order, practicality, patience, deliberation and self-reliance ~ these came from my father.  Sometimes the blending has an excellent, really pleasing effect. Other times it’s conflicted, my free spirit feeling trapped inside its Virgo shell.

But however these traits play out on any given day, (perhaps depending on the star’s alignment), I can’t imagine life without a pen for words, a pencil or brush for pictures, without the ability to make music, or dance my own dance. Maybe it’s DNA, maybe it’s God-given. All I know is that it’s all just there. Demanding my attention, every day, at all hours.

So at some point in life, I accept and embrace the call, resign to the destiny that DNA or God (or both) bestowed. I know it’s not a hobby, a fancy of youth, a moment in the sun. This thing called creativity throbs with every pulse. I choose to honor it, even though I’m not so sure the choice is mine, and even though it would be so much tidier to work at something with obvious beginnings and ends. But such, it seems, is not my fate.

Of course, I have no corner on this thing called creativity. There are many of you out there, and you know exactly what I’m talking about!

There are, however, many of you out there who also live and breathe creativity and (I think) don’t know it. You think it requires the painting of a picture, the writing of a story, the composing of a song, the designing of a home or the sculpting of stone into an angel. I don’t believe that it does.

What about the teacher who gets through to an otherwise struggling student, by using an original approach? What about the doctor who discovers a unique treatment? What about the accountant who produces an efficient software program? What about the farmer who figures how to grow a tastier tomato or develops a new fertilizer? What about the pilot who dreams of a better aircraft? What about the engineer, like my father, who measured things with facts and figures, and invented industry-changing processes?

I think that “this thing called creativity” runs through all our veins ~ it just manifests in very different ways. (Thank goodness for that!) And whether or not it’s nurtured  ~ and whether or not, like a muscle, it is used and strengthened or becomes limp from neglect ~ simply makes it seem more real or not.

© Patricia Saxton


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In Praise of Black and White: Part III

Almost like clockwork, my mind turns to black & white imagery… as it did last January, and the January before that. I hadn’t realized that! In truth of course, it’s not just a once a year thing ~ I’ve always been drawn to the power and beauty of black & white art, probably from the first time I picked up that favorite tool of mine (the #2 pencil), and sensed that magic was held within its lead.

So, once again I’ll post the original text (which remains meaningful to me), and share some choice imagery. (If you want to skip to the pictures, I won’t be offended!)

……………

Each year, a new Ansel Adams wall calendar hangs on the door leading to my studio. His superbly articulated, stunning black and white photography reminds me daily of my love for the natural world and the innumerable shades, shapes, shadows and tones that create, change, and emerge from, our world.

Yet the classic beauty and the powerful visual possibilities of black and white are often neglected. Straight black and white design is often passed by in favor of any use of color. As if black and white implied something dull or less important. Which is far from the truth!

When used well, black and white is intensely dramatic, vigorous, elegant and rich. It can make a powerful point without the distraction of colors. It plays on bright or moody, or edgy or slick in ways that color cannot. It can sparkle with cleanliness, and shimmer with subtlety. When used well, it expresses itself with undisguised strength, character and integrity.

Of course, not all photographers have the eye nor skill of an Ansel Adams. Not all designers *see* in black and white. Clients rarely consider it. But it would be nice to see a greater appreciation of the noble duo of black and white.

When people want straight talk, when they want the truth, they’ll say “tell me in black and white”. But people often speak in shades of gray, or dress their language in garish colors for dramatic effect. And so it can be with design – a multitude of colors may become too competitive, potentially drowning in an undifferentiated sea of tones or gussied up so much the point is lost for the color, like shouting for attention in a crowd.

Color, in and of itself, is naturally beautiful. Bold, rich fusions of color. Earthy color, otherworldy color. Pale, cool, warm or dense. It’s vibrant and alive and emotional. But color alone will not make a bad design good. And it’s not so much that color is overrated, but that black and white is underrated. The effects of black and white can be pretty spectacular.

Stripped of color, a million shades become a lansdcape of lights and darks that blend and weave and bounce against one another to create a very rich whole. A striking black and white image often touches us unexpectedly …  refreshing, engaging, and wonderfully inspiring. It’s raw and fundamental – and like a good story, it’s satisfying. Like a good story, it allows your mind to add its own color by filling in the parts left unsaid.

Enough said. Enjoy.

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The Great Gift of Curiosity

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
~ Albert Einstein

I love this! The following is an inspiring lesson on the enormous value of curiosity and wonder, shared through a truly worthwhile video from a community-based online education group called Skillshare. Many thanks to the Skillshare folks for putting this out there!

If you have kids or young adults in your life, share it with them too. Share it with anyone who appreciates learning, life and the human potential, anyone who thinks they’ve “done it all”, and those who may have temporarily misplaced a passion for what makes things tick.

Above all, keep asking questions. Keep wonder alive!

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The Lost Pen

I’m working on a project that calls for a special kind of pen. A marker, to be exact. My favorite marker. I might even go so far as to say the perfect marker.

Then I remembered a sad truth: these most magical of markers have been discontinued. They don’t make them anymore. Which is just wrong. They were the best. They were beloved. They should bring them back.

You think it silly perhaps to mourn the loss of a pen? Maybe if you understood that they had just the right feel, just the right flexibility, just the right fluidity and just the right saturation. They didn’t dry out easily and lasted for ages.

Any professional knows that the right tools matter. For designers, no artist marker held a candle to these.

The good news is, I found 3 remaining markers tonight. In a special box, hidden inside a cupboard, hoarded like secret chocolates. The bad news is that the end is near. It’s the last dance. And I’m not happy about that.

Seriously, they really should bring them back.

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MacNaughton Peace

Because sometimes you feel peace in your roots. Sometimes honor. Sometimes you just like ’em.

saxton.peace_macnaughton

Week #58 / 52 Weeks of Peace (squared) / © Patricia Saxton

And on this day ~ just an ordinary day ~ I wish you peace, and offer a few favorite ancestral words to the wise:

“Love of our neighbor is the only door out of the dungeon of self.”  /   “One good turn deserves another.”  /  “Fair words won’t make the pot boil.”  /  “Twelve highlanders and a bagpipe make a rebellion.”  /  “Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.”  /   “He was a bold man who first ate a Haggis.”

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Palm-Reading

The palm-reader said I’ll live a very long, very healthy life.

This isn’t really news, as all the psychics I’ve known have said the same, but this one backed it up by mentioning that I inherited a “long-life gene”, which made it sound pretty official. And I have to say, whatever your feeling about these kinds of things, considering that my father is in a pretty remarkable 94th year, I think she could be on to something.

Of course, you never know. But the long-healthy-life concept is comforting, since I can’t imagine running out of things I want to do. I’ve got at least 6 more books in me, hundreds of art pieces, and who knows, maybe I’ll be discovered in my golden years and star in something fabulous on the silver screen. :  )

I like the idea that every day holds potential for something grand. Or even something that’s simply, thrillingly sweet. Or a kind and lovely gesture.

There’s just no end to what you can learn and discover. Not to mention there’s still much of the world I’ve yet to see. There are mountains to climb and streams to ford! (well, okay, apparently The Sound of Music hijacked my thought process for a second there…)

How can anyone, ever, really, I mean really, be bored?

Sure, now and then we can feel dull. We can get the blues. We can get discombobulated or all worked up in a twist from life’s challenges. Maybe feel discontent, or anxious or scared or like you want to put your fist through a wall.

But you tough it out. You laugh, you cry. You make it through. The sun rises.

With all life’s quirks and curves and turns, colors and personalities and wonders ~ just imagine all you can do and be and give and share. How cool is that?

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Unfolding

Probably because I’m craving some time with brush in hand in front of a fresh canvas, I’ve pulled up an old drawing that reminds me of art for art’s sake. It also reminds me of the roots of what I do, and the kind of invisible forces that have driven me in the directions I’ve gone.

I say “invisible forces” because you can’t explain “why” you may have spent days drawing a larger than life Iris, or why it was an Iris you chose, not a face or an apple or a street scene. Of course there had to be a point of intellectual decision along the way, but you can’t necessarily say why in that moment it was a pencil you used, not a pen and not a brush.

Because time then becomes suspended  ~  the same as it does for a musician, a dancer, a poet; conscious thoughts dissolve, almost as if your being, through the act of creating, becomes a meditation.

© Patricia Saxton

And it is this piece pulled up today, I believe, because it also speaks to me now, years later, of gentle unfoldings, as opposed to dramatic, coarse unravelings. It speaks to me of a natural grace within life ~ one perhaps we all wish to nurture and maintain but feel we seldom do. It whispers of quiet gestures and grand plans, and of patience, and the knowing that all things blossom best with care and water and light.

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Peace Prayer

Week #57 / 52 Weeks of Peace (squared) / © Patricia Saxton

Under one sky
Our blood runs red
Our eyes see, our feet walk
Our hearts beat.

We love, we laugh
We grieve.

We hope.

Red, white, black, yellow
We circle and dance,
Fight and rejoice,
Dream and breathe
And raise our voice

For peace.

~ P. Saxton

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Cheers! ~ A New Year’s Guest “Plethora of P’s P” / Prosecco

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

Raise a glass to the New Year. Raise a glass to all the good yet to be realized. Raise a glass to hope and dreams, and the passion, stamina and grace to carry them through.

And with my warm thanks to Diane Ioas Householder for this wonderful image and her cheerful handwritten text, I also raise a glass to friendships near and far. Because friends, like kindness, can lift us up and smooth out life’s frictions. And like Prosecco, no special reason is needed – every day is a good day to appreciate their sparkle.      ~ Cheers!

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A Plethora of P’s / #52: Peace

proactively punctuating life with the plausible, powerful possibilities of positive thought presented through a plethora of “P’s”.

– ♥ –

I’m not holding my breath for the whole world to catch on just yet, but hope springs eternal. So maybe we can help it along; give it some attitude…

Maybe we can hang out our shingles with peaceful intent, toss some into our breakfast, wrap it up in our clothing, walk it into our stride, put the idea in our hearts ~ and practice peace, a little bit, every day.

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