Lately I have been revisiting some of what I remember to be my favorite books and movies from when I was a kid. It strikes me that I have always been drawn to the creative--dance, art, music, theater--and yet I don't think of myself as creative at all...
How much has been taken from me? I wonder. I am working hard on making this place in my life my new starting point. It is such a challenge though. I have to fight with every word I have ever heard about myself. Push back against every shove, smack, glancing blow I've ever taken. I still feel like a prisoner in my own mind much of the time.
What am I going to do about it? I'm not sure. I have no plan. I want to start trying things. Anything really. If it means I have to buy out the whole craft store to find something I like doing. Or if I have to haunt every art museum and gallery in town to learn what I need to. I don't care anymore.
So off I go, in search of my creativity. I'm sure its in there somewhere. For all I know it is just a wish of mine that's not going to go anywhere. But I have to give it a shot.
