Not I, nor our host, Kathy Peterson, had any idea I had pneumonia when she first invited me to share with you. And, I still do. The doctor's diagnoses was "early peumonia" I've been sick for the last month, and before that who knows? I forget. Time is elapsing into a foggy seamlessness now. If this is "early"? Well? Good night. I hate to think.
Having been sicker than I have ever been (or ever pretended being while my husband was nearby) I've had the dubious opportunity to lay flat on my back for days on end to contemplate the necessity of repainting, obsess over my dog's annoying habits, and feel increasingly guilty for feeling crummy. You've heard the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak? These last several weeks I've built a portico, bathed the dog too many times to mention, and helped my husband help me. In my mind, that is.
During this time of convalescing the joy of surfing- thank God- from the sofa was available, and I subsisted on nutritional supplements of creativty from other artists. Creativity is a healing virtue, in and of itself. I've created things my entire life. This is what I've done for me and it has been healing. Beyond words, healing. But, as I lay with zero energy I can not make my way to any of it.
I'm realizing that watching online and seeing the vast creativity of others is healing as well, and no small thing. Finding energy to shave my legs while showering, or to rummage around for materials for crafting is out of the question. (Not simply because my studio is a wreck. (which it is, and almost reason enough to abandon desire.)) It's not the lack of ideas, I have ideas all right. Ideas aplenty. I can change the world, I can. Almost predictably, I can't help remembering asking my dad once if he ever got a wild burst of energy where he just wanted to "go run". He paused for a moment, then answered making his way to the sofa, "Yes, (another pause) but I always try to lay down til that feeling passes."
Having a portable computer has made this sickness bearable. Between checking my emails, and commenting variably on face book (oft in a stupor with all it's impending repurcussions) I bound along on the first class pre-paid flight of imagination visiting New York, Paris, Holland, Poland on and on. Explosions of color, palpable textures, filmy aged fabrics sing to me, they caress my soul. These lyrical possibilities of hope and creation engage my senses even if my hands move slowly and minimally across the page.
A long time designer, I'm realizing the true value in creativity resides not only in the doing as I've grown so accustomed to thinking. It resides in the God-given endorsement in the act of creation itself. It resides in the imaginations of those who create. Creativity is a transcendent experience. We make, we share, we love. Heart and soul is infused into each creator's work, whether he is aware of it or not, & it doesn't matter the level of expertise. It only matters that the artist is moving along to a inner prompting.
It is that inner prompting that has grabbed me. It is this same creative force of life itself, that seeks in our hearts, no matter our condition, anemblematic but compelling creative act on our own behalf, right here, right now. Tune into the sheer act of movement by the imagination as it plays across your mind. Upon this, the canvas of our minds, our hearts can then become brushes dipped into love's imagination to create a beautiful masterpiece framing an original artists' perception of our own life scenarios. We won't use paper, paint and palette.
Stillness is our fodder, silent is the song. Can you imagine?
Since this writing Colette has fully recovered and appreciates her typical high level of stamina more than ever. She has grown deeply compassionate for those who are ill and find themselves without energy, no matter their determination. Colette has experienced and believes creating beauty and outcomes filled with extraordinary excitement and cheer is potential within our hearts and minds using love's imagination.
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