Create By Watching Creativity

The music, the beat, the sounds; it moves them. They groove to it, they move their body in the way they’re supposed to, in sync with the woman wearing a costume the same as theirs, holding the prop, smiling at the audience—these are performers doing what they do best. They do this all while sending the message of love, compassion and unity.

Damn. I think. I have no beat and no rhythm. This art form that they believe in, not just believe in the end product, but believe in the process too. Hours of preparation, hours of costuming, chorography, planning, practicing—all leading up to their moment on stage to shine!

One solo performer, Cornflower, felt his music. You could see it flow up his spine and out his dread locked hair. His unique style moved me, made me tap my foot, inspired me to close my eyes and let it drip down my body until I was moving my body. Sitting in the grass his words of love and compassion floated in the air and touched every person in the audience. This gift, this awareness of music and power and beauty was inspirational through my entire body. My body wanted to move, my hands wanted to make art, my mind wanted to write a story.

Inspiration leads to more inspiration, right? I mean, that’s what a so-called muse is for. People feed off of one another, we learn from each other and eventually create something new from something we’ve seen, heard or felt. We steal from one another only to rebirth and re-gift it in a new form.

Earlier that day I spent time with a pretty centered acupuncturist who truly thrives on what he does. I’m always curious how healers and therapists separate themselves from the hurt and pain they hear from their clients; this man says that he must learn to not absorb the pain but work to help them work through it. Find the route of the issue, whether that is emotional stress manifesting in physical pain or vise versa, and treat it, using the skills he has.

Creativity is pretty powerful. The creative soul, the art created, the music, the mood, the motion—we all thrive and are inspired some how. Watching art makes me want to create art, talking with people who are passionate and sure of what they’re doing make me want to continue on my journey to finding what truly makes me tick, what can I do that will inspire this in someone else? What movement, what form of expression is next? I hope this performance stays with me long enough to create something else and in hopes inspire someone else to create or feel what I felt as I watched passion explode on stage.

Important ‘Things’: Goodbye (Part 2)

If you know me, you know that I’m easily distracted from where I am, perhaps in hopes of being somewhere else or discovering something new. Some call me nomadic, others flighty, others have told me I have the Wanderlust. My Dad, at a young age, told me that I was a Child Of The Planet. I listen to stories of people who have traveled and seen the world, have gotten lost to only find the most magnificent of places and I yearn to be one of those people.

 

My last post highlighted some amazing unforgotten friendships. One that I skipped is my friend Quincy. Q and I know each other only because our Dad’s grew up together, him and I recently in the last few years have become good friends through chance and mutual love for having fun. Whenever I travel to NYC Q makes up his guest room like a perfectly cozy hotel, complete with mini shampoo and conditioner bottles and a snack. Being in Brooklyn, seeing shows, slowing down and being there makes me want to be in New York City all the time. I end up feeling more like a local than a tourist because Q knows how to do New York.

Fabulous date night with Quincy!

Fabulous date night with Quincy!

The hustle and bustle, the creativity that flies around the Village is tangible. Jazz music wafts our of bar doors, dancers walk down the street hoping to catch the next 6 train up town. Even the shops are eclectic and hold my interest for much longer than the chain stores in Soho. There are fortunetellers on every corner ready to tell you your future.

I was also was able to meet up with an old high school friend who was a director of one of my schools shows. I watched him audition people for a one act he’s directing, silently pleading him to need to cast a curly haired brunette and then beg me to stay in New York to perform. And then I’d eventually find a job, an apartment and make my life there—poof! If only life was so simple.

Q, being the caretaker he is, gave me the number for a car service to call that morning to get me to the airport from Brooklyn safely and on time. Eventually I’ve had to say goodbye. Goodbye to Manhattans in Manhattan. Goodbye to easy public transportation, fashion, cheap but amazing street food. Goodbye.

Walking below ground at Union Square with my director friend, we embraced, promised to keep in touch—my dreams of off-Broadway fame fleeting as quickly as the subway cars taking tourists to 42nd street. He going uptown to his day job (because being creative won’t make anyone money,) and me heading back to Brooklyn to soon fly back to the left coast, we let go. It was hard. Saying goodbye to my past and perhaps a future I may be destined to have one day; I said goodbye too much on this trip.