By Tricia Lunt, English Faculty
These last four weeks (coinciding with the beginning of this term), I’ve failed to make space for creativity in my life; my work as a teacher has claimed the bulk of my time and energy. This is problematic in several ways, and ironic in at least one: I am currently teaching two “Creative Expression” classes, yet have found little time to do so.
This is a challenge most people face. Listening to our inner creative voice can be difficult amidst the thunderous din of life’s demands, but we ought to listen, and respond.
Creativity is essential to productivity, so while I am busy being “industrious,” I would be more so if I took the time to create (as I am doing now, grading be damned). Hence, this blog, and countless others, exists. Yes, to communicate, but also to create something where once nothing was. Hence the fancy cookery flourishing in kitchens of extremely busy people (you gotta eat). Hence the whole expansive world of imaginative Lego landscapes, constructed by young and old.
Though I do not make my living through the creative arts, I practice creative endeavors to connect more fully with life, through writing and dance and art. Countless extraordinary people I love work to make time for creativity in their lives: gardening, baking, crocheting, sewing, designing, painting, crafting, sculpting, acting, playing and singing: a river of dynamic energy overflowing its banks, nourishing us all.
The struggle to create is an essential part of living, of fulfilling the promise of lifelong learning, of evolving and realizing how many vistas remain in the distance, beckoning us to keep moving forward. Undertaking an artistic journey is particularly compelling, especially when it becomes all too clear that life really is what we make it.
The Flâneur's Turtle 