Is creativity a bad word?

Sep 22, 2010

What does creativity mean to you?

For some these are tools of torture: coloring pencils and paper.


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Amy's daughter Hannah making collages at the dining room table.


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Handspun cotton yarn and weaving tools.


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Petra didn't like photos of herself—but Alice, whom Petra was teaching how to weave, was happy for me to take her photo. 


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In planning a newly added class I'm teaching about designing for tapestry at SOAR 2010, I started thinking about creativity and spinning. When I teach spinning or beading classes, I'm often surprised at how many students balk when they hear the word creativity. When that happens, I remember two incidents from my childhood that gave me the same squashed feeling that I see reflected on the faces of these students as they stare down at the materials of torture: paints, paper, coloring pencils, crayons, rulers, and tape.

Squashed creativity

Both incidents occurred in school—but in completely different schools, even states. In one, I sat next to a little girl, Maria, who drew the most amazing birds. I despaired—I knew that I'd never be able to draw birds as beautifully as Maria. The more the teachers talked about Maria's natural talent, the more I sank into my self-created pit of despair. I still don't fully understand why Maria's gift and well-deserved praise diminished my confidence. In the other incident, I was merrily painting a beautiful picture of a tree and my teacher came by, took the paint brush from me, and started painting over my work and telling me how I should do it. I was devastated—she turned my beautiful tree into a muddy mess and expected me to be happy with the results.

Nurtured creativity

But I was fortunate. At home, my parents were very encouraging of creativity and self-expression. My mom, a watercolor artist, provided my brother, sister, and me with lots of paint and paper, play dough, chalk, crayons—I even remember one afternoon blissfully marbleizing paper for greeting cards and wrapping paper. I learned over the course of many years that while I didn't have the kind of natural talent that Maria seemed blessed with, I loved creating enough to want to pursue it as a regular activity. This lesson changed the course of my life, literally. Throughout high school and college I had taken art classes as electives—for the pure pleasure of it, but without a sense of purpose or path. I had decided that I was going to be a professor of Spanish when I grew up—art was something I did on the side.

Learning to spin

That was until I went to Costa Rica as a student abroad (nearly twenty years ago!) and lived with a spinner, weaver, and natural dyer in the Costa Rican jungle in a heavenly thatch-roofed, dirt-floor house with chickens running through it. Petra Lazaro Lazaro harvested colored cotton from the trees that grew around her house, pulled the cotton from the seeds, and patted the cotton into fluffy batts. She then spun a strong singles thread on a handcarved spindle with a rubber whorl (cut from a tire). After dyeing the yarn with bark, iron-rich mud, and precious dye from mollusks gathered on rare trips to the ocean, she would warp a backstrap loom. The weavings required strength and patience to create, as well as creativity. I observed Petra deriving the same pleasure from making beautiful things that I did, and I realized that making things isn't a luxury, it is part of being human.

Permission to create

Not only did Petra teach me how to spin, she taught me how to give myself permission to create things for the pleasure of it. While I'll always strive to be better, I realize that it isn't a competition. There will always be someone who can make things more successfully than I can, but that's not the point. I'm not making things to be the best, I'm making things because in the making I find contentment, peace, and a self-sufficient joy that fuels me and gives meaning to my life. Sure, I'd like the things I make to be expressive and beautiful, but it is a journey, a process—and not everything I make will be successful, but I'll learn a lot along the way.

New inspirations

Whenever I talk to Judith MacKenzie, I'm reminded of Petra—they both have a very gentle way of nudging me toward a better understanding of spinning, of my path, of the world at large. Which gets me to an important announcement: Judith's book The Intentional Spinner is being re-released, packaged with a DVD that contains excerpts selected and compiled from two of her DVDs, The Gentle Art of Plying and Popular Wheel Mechanics. What we've done is taken some of the best sequences from the workshop videos and presented them in a fresh new way that complements the book.

 

—Happy Spinning

Amy

 

 


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Comments

on Sep 22, 2010 7:02 AM

Amy, what a wonderful essay! It's a subtle but important point you're making. I couldn't agree more: "...making things isn't a luxury, it's a part of being human."

Denise Bolger Kovnat

Weavers' Guild of Rochester

Rochester, NY

Gwen Powell wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 7:20 AM

Amy, you could not have said this more eloquently.  This is what our art is about.  I hope others find the same wisdom in their hearts.

Gwen Powell

MidoriW wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 7:58 AM

Amy,

I loved your newsletter today. I was especially intrigued with the idea of dying with mollusks since I live near the coast and have a plethora of shells etc available to me. Do you know of a source for learning more about dying with ocean related products?

Midori

jan grover wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 8:01 AM

A lovely evocation of the necessity for beauty and creation in everyone's life. Bad childhood experiences can prompt people to believe they cannot make meaningful beauty, and if they don't manage to rethink such experiences as adults, they can lose out on the joys of creating for the rest of their lives. Thanks for reminding us!

Crystalheart wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 8:17 AM

Dear Amy,

Your post really compelled me to write a response this morning. I too had elementary school teachers who told me "don't hold the brush like you're painting a house" and painted all over my Grade 4 painted trees.

And the Grade 2 teacher who criticised my printing and said "Look how nice Elizabeth Yetman prints." (I'm 45 years old, that was a long time ago and I still remember it!)

It's when we are compared to others we often become intimidated, then discouraged. If only we were taught to appreciate our own worth, and taught to express our own version of a Grade 4 painted tree. If our teachers could have only appreciated our own individuality instead of expecting everyone's trees to look the same, or what our teachers thought a tree should look like as painted by a child in Grade 4 ---

Think of all the heartache and despair we could save ourselves.

Despite my father's insisting art was a waste of time and I was no good at it. (Why, because I couldn't  paint a tree like a photograph of one?) I became a commercial artist almost straight out of high school, earning some design awards and occassionally wonderful thank you letters from clients.

Later on when I was teaching 12 mentally ill adults how to weave a dreamcatcher, and all 12 of them made a different web, I had one of those life-altering "aHA!" moments when I realized it was OK if I couldn't paint a tree like a photograph! I could still paint a tree. It was my version of a tree and that was OK.

Nowadays, I hand-dye and handspin yarn to graph a tree into a knitted piece or needlefelt it into a felted landscape, or that particular shade of green may find itself hooked into a tree on a rug design. Or I may decide to weave that shade of green into a shawl.

Making things definitely is a part of being human, its a form of expression, of emotion and its an historical record of who we are and where we have been.

Telling someone they can't create is like telling someone they can't communicate.

Denyse Milliken, Textile Artisan

St. James Textile Museum - tour guide, spinner & weaver

Dorchester, NB Canada

on Sep 22, 2010 8:22 AM

Thank you for this!  I had tears in my eyes by the time I finished it, because of one thing you said - "...making things isn't a luxury, it is part of being human."  How eloquent and simple a statement for a concept that is so central to our lives!

Amy@137 wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 9:40 AM

Hi Amy,

Your experience in school reminded me of an experience my son had in school,  although he probably doesn't remember it.  He was only 5 years old and was given a picture of a girl to color.  He colored her face purple, earning himself a serious reprimand from his teacher to used "real" colors.  I told my mother about the incident.  From then on any picture she colored (even in her 60's she loved to color) she deliberately colored "wrong".  No one was going to tell her grandson how to color.

Amy

Ramona Gault wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 10:07 AM

Amy, this is a really vital point that you make. Teachers and parents taught so many of us that only a few people are creative (and "you aren't one of them!"). It's good that there is a shift happening, in which children now are encouraged to create in their own authentic ways. Thanks for the post.  A sky in which only a few stars are allowed to shine wouldn't be much of a sky, would it? So let's all let our light shine like the star-filled night sky!

on Sep 22, 2010 10:38 AM

When I was in third grade in Cody, WY I was asked to draw a picture of a tree so I drew my Grandmother's Catalpa which was very large and spreading with massive roots exposed by a dozen or more children digging and playing under it for many years.  The teacher asked me to look out the window at the trees outside and asked me if I saw any trees that looked like mine.  Of course, there weren't any.  She told me to never draw a tree like that in her class again.  She was well-meaning but very hurtful and had never been to my Grandmother's house in Arkansas.

atomicblue wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 11:16 AM

Ugh....that reminded me of the high school math teacher that asked in a loud voice "are you retarded?" I forget my answer to him, it was just as loud a response!

Teachers can be weird, though thankfully I had enough very good ones to balance things out. So many folks tell me "I'm not creative" I hear this alot when I sell my yarn at crafts shows. I\My response? I say sure you are! Maybe you're great at getting people together. Possibly you're a fabulous cook! I urge people to not think of themselves one way. To try to think out of the box. It's being in the box that's limiting. Think beyond it....

riillaweave wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 12:06 PM

I read a few days ago that Andrea Bocelli believed his talent a gift to give to others.  The feeling one receives in giving of the gift, having them accepted and hopefully having that gift lift the spirit of the receiver... not a luxury at all.  It is a sharing that bonds humans into families, tribes, civilizations.

Thank you, Amy, for the gift of your article.  It has brightened my day.

Grits and Grunts,

Priscilla

Priscilla Curry Hale

Chief Yarn Pilot for The Sisters Curry

JuliaE wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 12:28 PM

As Pablo Picasso said, Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up."

It's really unfortunate how many creative people have had their creativity squashed because whatever they did doesn't "look like [so-and-so's]." That just sends me through the roof every time I hear it. Last week I attended an art workshop presented by Robert Burridge (www.robertburridge.com) and a key theme was that we had "permission" to paint however we wanted to. He even gives out "permission slips," because, as you remember from your school days, a "permission slip" gave you the power to be outside of where you were expected to be.

Grab the power and make YOUR art, everyone!!

on Sep 22, 2010 1:07 PM

No truer, nor wiser words spoken, "giving ourselves permission to create for the pleasure of it". I certainly could have used that many years ago. However, I'm there now and very grateful. Thank you for sharing. Michele

J.W wrote
on Sep 22, 2010 4:24 PM

What a beautiful post.

In the middle of a 2-years-plus bout of unemployment, I confessed to a friend that I had been trying to stay busy looking for a job and hadn't been allowing myself to spin, knit, or do anything else besides seek work.  She scolded me (gently) and said, "you're a creative person and you need that outlet to be happy.  You need to give yourself permission to be happy, and to be creative."  How I needed that.

After pounds of fiber and miles of knitting, I'm also employed.  :)

Pass the crayons, please.

Karenjean wrote
on Sep 26, 2010 4:04 PM

Amy I loved this editorial! Creativity is a birthright. We all need to support and encourage each other to find our own way of expressing our vision. We all have one, even if it has been squelched by some misguided person in our past.