It’s the adult voice in my child-oriented world.
It’s the ear that always listens when a human ear isn’t available.
It’s the transmission of mind to paper when a surge of artistic intention burns through.
For me, that’s writing.
It could be pottery. Or oil painting. Cabinetry. Cooking. Or chess strategy.
For me, I must. I must find a time to write.
Which can be challenging. There are most often continuous voices in my world. Soft voices sometimes. But mostly loud, full decibel voices. Game pieces moving. Dishes clinking in the kitchen. Brooms swishing. “Mom, she’s not being nice to me. Can you talk to her?” Thump thump thump of footsteps bounding down the stairs. Now bounding up the stairs.
I must go into my own place. Inside my head. To the quiet place.
And let myself flow into my creative place.
Differently, creativity takes its forms in each of us. But it always takes form when we allow it to manifest in our daily routines.
Presently, the flow is easier. The expectations of the day are less demanding, fewer writing projects to check, math work to check, communal history reading or anatomy discussions after lunch. The routine is filled with more invigorating activities, being outdoors and visiting, and learning new salad combinations and making yet another batch of preserves.
During the study year, I must be firm. I’ll be in my quiet space after the afternoon study time. I will not be disturbed. If someone is not dying or the house on fire, your interruption will earn you a chore. It is hard enough for me to get into a creative groove when I have spent five hours managing studies, processing new languages or gathering my children’s spirits to work together. But I often do.
Even with a trip to town for some extracurricular or other, I rent my table with a non fat cappuccino and I sit within the communal hum of my charming mountain town and focus on writing the weekly blog post, or cleaning up the 1500 word narrative piece of my greater novel.
What is your go-to creative and when do you make time to do it?