Seeds of Creativity

When I hear people remark that we are all connected on some deeper level than what appears to the superficial eye, I quietly think about instances in my life where I find it difficult to disagree.

Think about how easy it is to get caught up in the flurry of energy generated by a group of people aligned with the same goals or beliefs. Are you religious? Do you keep up with the games of your favorite sports team? Have you ever partnered with a favorite cause?

Attending a football game or a Sunday morning church service illustrates the power of being on the same wavelength with others. It's as if people all tune into the same frequency and are guided by the collective power of their own energy.

But then again, I've found that it doesn't necessarily take a large body of people to inspire and motivate us. In our relationships with our friends, spouses, and children we often exercise great influence over their lives, not by telling them what to do, but just by being who we are. In the same vein, we are also influenced by the residual energy (expression) of others delivered through books, films, music, art, and our own memories.

In recent years I've paid more attention to things that influence me. I've realized that I'm inspired by art and creativity of all kinds: children's sidewalk doodles, blooming lilac flowers, clever marketing ads, beautiful watercolor paintings, and even the swirl milk makes in my morning coffee.

The influence others has over our lives was reinforced to me two nights ago when I attended a garden party art gallery featuring the work of several local artists. One of the artists I personally knew, Anna*, remarked to me that "artists are a dime a dozen." I found it disheartening that she didn't realize the impact her artistic talent had on others, specifically me.

I had known Anna since I was 14 years old. Anna was a friend of the family and gifted with the ability to paint. I remember visiting Anna's house many times as a teenager, one year watching the progression of a mural she was painting on her basement wall with acrylics. Each time I'd visit, the mural would be further along with more detail added. I remember thinking to myself at the time how awesome it was that Anna could paint things to look as realistic as they did. Because I couldn't draw my way out of a paper bag, I deeply respected Anna's ability and would be inspired by the memories of her efforts later on in life. Seeing Anna Friday night brought back a flood of memories and rekindled a certain enthusiasm within me.

I hope Anna will someday realize that others are touched by her creativity and appreciate that her work is worth more than 'a dime a dozen.' Maybe she's not realizing the empowering potential of the creative process ... or doesn't know how inspiring she is to others.

I left the exhibition with an abundance of energy, inspiration, and gratitude. And on a deeper level within I knew that I was changed somehow, just by taking in the works of the local artists.

By the way, I asked Anna about that mural on her wall... she never finished it. •

* Not her real name