Every once in awhile, I will hear someone bemoan their lack of creativity. I never have a good response. My instinct is to tell them that perhaps it is just misplaced. An early critic probably dashed their hopes. Who among us cannot recall, word for word, what a teacher said about our earliest artistic efforts? Stop the paint from running down the easel. Stay in between the lines. Your figures are too small, too big, are not in the middle of the page and on and on. Well intended instruction can shatter the fantasy that fuels our tiny geniuses. Somewhere along the line, I think I decided to ignore everyone. I had a secret audience, and I looked to them for approval. They never let me down. I could tell them stories, give speeches, sing and dance. I showed them my knitting, my drawing, and I told them all of my troubles. They encouraged me to no end. Who were these lovely creatures? They were two hundred strong. They were a herd. They were the cattle on the family farm.
Last night on NBC Nightly News, Lester Holt showed us a video montage of Derek Klingenberg playing to his cattle. Then he demonstrated a drone inspired painting in his field in which the cows created a picture. My husband and I laughed and laughed and then had a great discussion of how each innovation mankind creates, there is a burst of creativity somewhere. New inventions inspire unique and individualistic, original ideas. It is just one great aspect of what makes life so precious, and so entirely worth living.