I’ve written in past blogs about fanning the flames of your creative spark. We’ve discussed how empowering it is to seize the moment in unexpected artistic endeavors. Today, I’m offering different thoughts.
As you know I wear many hats. I work full-time as the Director of Communications for a non-profit, plus I have two part-time jobs which are keeping my fine art and writing careers going. I also have a family, and volunteer in my community. I say this not to toot my own horn but to lay the ground work for what comes next.
I’ll paint the scene for you. It’s early November here in New England and it’s been unseasonably mild. A small, white window box hangs from the open-on-three sides front porch of my house. Each May, I plant annuals in this petite box. Every year I have fun choosing different flowering plants, based on their colors (they have to make me happy), my mood, and budget. I love mixing it up year after year.
This past May I planted red, yellow, gold, and blue flowers and enjoyed a summer of lovely emerging plants. Then a few weeks ago as I briefly looked back at my house while driving to work I saw a profusion of pink. Perplexed I used great will power not to stop and investigate. The following morning I made sure I had time to look into this situation. Unbeknownst to me, Mother Nature conspired to give me an autumn gift. Steadily growing and blooming were pink flowers that I must have planted at least five years ago, and they must have been perennials.
Once summer ended I haven’t been watering my window box regularly. The plants are completely root-bound, and all the vegetation just sits there during Connecticut’s freezing winter months. This little pink plant has been steadily chugging along, staying alive underground for years, until the conditions were just right for her to pop up.
The metaphor in this is that sometimes we have creativity inside us that is natural, pure and real. Even when we don’t tend it, it is there waiting, healthy and ready to come out when we least expect it. The additional symbolism is that this past September I exhibited a clay monoprint in an English international art exhibition and in October sold two original fine art pieces. It’s as if my art career is like this pink perennial bursting to life after years of dormancy. For decades I didn’t have time to tend daily to my fine art, but the goods were always there, safe and sound, and waiting for me before they bloomed.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Trust that your imaginative glimmer is there. You don’t have to water it, just allow it to flourish.