Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Where do you find inspiration? How do you stretch the creative muscle that we all have inside? How easily do you find the words, the voice, the expression that uniquely makes you the (you)man/woman that you are? What makes you gasp in wonder?
What makes you cry spontaneously? What color makes you look twice and keeps your gaze for just a little while?
We all have inside of us curiosity that causes us to take a little while to assimilate with our eyes, ears, noses. We take thousands of stimulus in each day.
Sometimes, it's just too much to absorb. A day of over-stimulation with noise, including human conversation, often sends me into hibernation the next day. I love people but need balance. When I need a creative fix, I'll take myself to nature, including communing at the beach or our local Arboretum. I find the greatest fix of all in my beloved New York City. The activity heightens my senses. I find in each area of Manhattan a treasure-trove for ideas for writing and reflecting. The creative me sings after a day walking the City streets and being with all that energy. I can tap into my inner Steinbeck or make a date with the ghosts of the Fitzgeralds at The Algonquin. I hear the musicians in the Subway and stop for a while, acknowledging their talents.
At our local Arboretum, year-round, there is ample time to smell the scents of each season, hear the leaves or crunch of snow under my feet. The salt mist from the ocean calls upon the Melville inside of me, imagining what goes on out in the vast ocean. As I sit on the shore, I am called to look at my own "Gifts from the Sea" ala AML.
I take the time for inspiration. It is a discipline that seems more like meditation. Without it, we may as well live under rocks.