I Am Creative

I was born creative. As a child, I had imaginary friends, fashioned bobby pins into dolls, hung upside down from chairs to imagine walking on the ceiling. My world, as I saw it, was a malleable playground for my imagination. I learned early how paradigms are to be broken, how life itself is an artform.

Drawing, sculpting, writing, painting ... you name it, I've done it over these many decades because that's how a creative is[i] supposed [/i]to channel one's expressive impulses. You're supposed to make it "real", something tangible that can be hung on a wall or read or put on a shelf. As a creative, you're prompted to sell your art, put it "out there". Otherwise, it's considered a waste of time. Time is money, so they say. Why create without it being marketable, or even seen?

Creatives are hounded by validation. To have [i]anyone [/i]say "I like that" is an endorphin rush.
To be paid for something you created is ambrosia.
These validations can kill creativity.
Judgment can kill creativity.

Most of us know the old question "if a tree falls in the forest, does anyone hear it?"
Creativity is like that. It does and must grow and fall in a forest where no one may ever witness it.