I am passionate about light. Like a moth to a bulb, I am drawn to the sun’s warmth and power, sometimes searing my wings. It awakens the creativity within me and everything bathed in the glow is to me a visual masterpiece.
It’s been a while since I’ve made a blog post. It seems that writing a post is reserved for those moments when inspiration strikes so poignantly that I must share. Creative pursuits are an everyday occurrence in my life, but I don’t always write about them. Maybe I take them for granted? But sometimes life slows down enough for me to think of how creativity works in my life, and to marvel at how the best creations aren’t even of our own making. Creativity can be about intention, or it can be about noticing what is around you.
This week’s activities involved a discussion about book cover design, an evening of cardmaking, and a workshop with adults and small and wild and insistent creative people to make chrismons (decorations for a church Christmas tree involving copious amounts of glue and gold glitter). I loved seeing how a three-year age difference between sisters affected their style of creativity – the older one drawing carefully only with gold marker, and the younger gleefully churning out joyous pieces with great globs of glitter glue outside the lines. Each was happily creating in their own way. I came home and continued to glue and glitter with help from my niece. I had fun, and at the end of it all felt, well, happy! And it made me want to do more, to pay attention to that creative side of me. Sometimes we creative folk get in the doldrums and need something to get us out of the grey corner we are moping in. We need a little light to shine in and draw us out. And maybe a little glitter.
That was a lot of activity for a few days (cleaning up for a party, vacuuming, standing at the glitter station) and my back complained. Today, fortunately, I had no appointments, and eventually found myself in my dining room, resting on a chair in the sun, feeling my back twinge, listening to the fast chk-chk-chk of the dollar store nodding flower and the slower tick-tick of a clock work together.
Rhythms started to form in my head as I watched dust motes settle in the window and bits of glitter blink on the table in the sunlight. As I and the cat watched out the window, time seemed to stand still, in beat with my heart. If you are still and quiet, you start to notice things–in your head, around you, through your senses. The sun was my partner in this reverie–it touched yellow leaves of a birch tree from behind and they glowed like gold leaf in contrast to the grey street beyond. The cat stood in silhouette on the table. Items on the windowsill stood illuminated in full detail–candlesticks and sailboats under interrogation–where have you been? where are you going? Light traced the edges of a dish and revealed the ornate pattern on its bowl, then became a pool of white light as it filled the base, traveling on to create a creature of shadow by spilling through the delicate lace of its porcelain body.
Light draws me, ignites me. And for that I am grateful.
Sometimes your body knows more than your brain about what you need. Your body needs to heal. Your soul needs to be filled. Sit down, be quiet, and pay attention. The show is about to begin.