Right now, in the guest room next to the loft, you can’t see the bed because of the stacks of fabric and yards of ribbon strewn about. You can’t shut the door because the ironing board is set up in front of it with the iron ready and waiting to press any hem that crosses its path into its proper crisp place. If you walk in with bare feet, you will walk out with thread clippings covering your soles from toe to heel. There are buttons and bobbins, sketches and scissors, paintbrushes and pin cushions.
Right now, on top of the new dining table, sits my camera–it’s digital belly filled to the brim with dancing eyes and happy smiles. Little fingers and tiny toes, proud mamas and loving papas, laughing children and beautiful faces. Memories captured for the moments of reminiscent longing that so often comes with the arrival of tomorrow.
Right now, inside my dreaming head, are patterns and ideas of what to make tomorrow. I see purses and paintings and dresses and wooden toys. I see poses and stances and framings for photo shoots to come. Ideas on how to capture love, or exuberance, or mischief, or excitement, or peace with the simple click of a shutter. I’m dizzy with the possibilities.
See, I believe that we, as human beings, at our most fundamental level, are creative beings. Whether it’s a math equation or a fabric flower, a diesel engine or an oil painting, a slam dunk or a symphony, we are all creators. Creators of memories, traditions, and beauty. Or on the flip side: hatred, prejudice, and war. All are creations made by creative beings–us. With every breath we breathe, we create. To live is to create. And the most beautiful creation of all–life.
It’s a sacred miracle.