Finding Your Creativity
Where does creativity begin?
Is it born, or is it bred into us?
Do we wake up one morning painting, or do we find it woven into our lives as we mature?
My dad had an engineer’s mind and training. Among the eight of us children, I was a little shadow, lurking at the edge of the workroom, just wanting to be near my dad, fascinated at the process, as he fixed broken things, as he sawed wood, and as he spent time remodeling our home.
My mom, with the gentle busy hands, always with a baby on her hip, a load of laundry to fold, or cheerfully humming in the kitchen, churning out endless meals for all of us each day.
On special occasions, or a special nights’ meal, she’d send me out to find plants and flowers to construct our “natural centerpieces” for the dining table. I had no idea growing up that people actually paid for arrangements created by a florist.
Going to Parochial schools meant there was always a charity event, bazaar, or fair.
This also meant that I would be helping at school to make things to sell; like poured wax candles, and other decorative items that the nuns taught me to make. These would provide much needed funds for whatever good works the church was involved in at the time.
In high school, I was fascinated with the sewing arts and cooking skills I learned and loved so much in Home Economics. I was so proud to sport a dress, matching coat with bound buttonholes, and an evening gown I made to wear for prom that year. We modeled these at an end of year fashion show at our school.
Mom’s love of singing was infectious to me in our home. We seven girls and mom would pop the records on the hi-fi and go to town cleaning the house on a Saturday. We’d belt out songs from Camelot, My Fair Lady, Oklahoma, to name a few. Later it was the Beatles, and grabbing our hair brush we would lip-sync to Dianna Ross and the Supremes.
When I married Mike and we had our two girls, Amy and Laura, we too would set the records on the player and sing songs from musicals like Annie. I would always serenade the girls at bedtime, and recite children’s poems, and say some prayers to calm their minds before rest.
They thought my voice was wonderful, though I never gave it much thought then.
I wanted my girls to be resourceful.
I gave them both a little pink tool chest so they would have their own tools to be able to take apart those bunks, when they’d change their minds again and again about sleeping in the same room together.
Amy found she liked art and had some lessons in painting, Laura ended up an actress and singer in high school drama. Where did all that creativity come from?
Both my daughters today are very handy in their homes, painting, refurbishing furniture, carpentry, gardening and decorating.
I once imagined I could be resourceful and tried my hand at making and selling jewelry. Although not all dreams pan out, I still find myself enjoying the technical nature and the satisfying process of creating in one form or another.
Lately I had a sweet friend teach this left-hander to crochet. I’m experimenting with chain-stitching beads onto wire, and have made some necklaces and bracelets. So much fun!
The last few years, my mother’s legacy of singing is now a joy I share with my husband. We both sing and harmonize together and have fun entertaining our friends and family.
Maybe I do have a pretty good voice after all.
Born or bred? Where does creativity come from?