When I was in 3rd grade, we had this project in art class. The assignment (at least as far as I understood it) was to pick a picture out of a magazine and paint the picture. So, I did. I was pretty happy with my painting. When I got done, the art teacher looked at the painting and said rather brazenly “well, that’s not really what I had in mind”.
I blame this one incident for my lack of creativity. (Screw genetics—when you’ve got an event like that to use as an excuse, run with it, right?)
My husband thinks I’m creative, and for this I’m grateful. I’m glad I’ve got him tricked—what he doesn’t realize is that every single creative idea I’ve ever exuded was an act of desperation—a survival technique which exists only when I’ve made a mistake. Basically, I’m only creative when I’ve screwed up and don’t have the time or resources to start over.
Sometimes, this means that we buy pizza instead of eating my mistakes, and other times, things turn out incredibly well. I just wish there was some consistency.
I want to be more creative, so I’ve decided to go on a sabbatical from responsibility. No more grocery lists. No more making lunch ahead of time. No more measuring the fabric I buy, or writing things down, and no more instruction manuals. Ultimately, I am going to create as many panic situations as possible, thereby optimizing my creative genius. I see this going really well…watch out world, here I come.
11 years ago
3 comments:
Perhaps you should consult your husband before undertaking such reckless abandon? ;-)
Well, I am pretty confident that we have a real money maker on our hands, but whatever. If you want to walk away from millions, that's cool. :-)
you may have been trying to hide, but too bad. I found you and your blog and you're totally getting linked on my sidebar.
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