“The key question isn’t ‘What fosters creativity?’ But it is why in God’s name isn’t everyone creative?”
—Abraham Maslow.
The creative process is like a banquet. We graze and pick, consuming from the selection as we go; almost as if in response to our inexplicable interests as they wax and wane, in season or out. We cannot describe this as a ‘process’ per se; it just is. Its requisite is the chaotic and risky. It happens when our minds are sufficiently lubricated from the temporal cognitive space-state that exists in that moment of reflective, non-spatial thought.
We know when we’re ‘on song,’ because it flows; we’re transformational and we ride it like a wave, even onto the shoreline, and we’re either disappointed or exhausted when it finally dries up, leaving us either hungry or spent—the fin of our board stuck in the hot sand.
The creative mind is the nexus of life in the ‘other’ world. It rejects the seen for the preferred abstract. It takes the long scenic road past the cedars, fog and chilly plains—leaving the freeway of the transactional, logic-focused mind. And never the twain shall meet!
The life of the person is contingent on this creative capacity. They walk dead without it; not even half the person remains.
The creative nature exhumes the dead person in the midst of life and it springs forth in that person—very surprising things occur as a result. These things both shocking and splendiferous—but always good, full of life and health—happen as a riskier, livelier life is enjoyed.
And love springs from the life discovered, love and every good thing. Vivacious, curvaceous love blossoms within the heart and out upon an unknowing, unsuspecting world—the captive world that thrives on the entertainment of creativity, never quite knowing why.
The world is the oyster for the creative person; yes, even now!
© S. J. Wickham, 2009.
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