littlecolourfulteacher

littlecolourfulteacher

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what right do i have to be THIS creative?!

July 3, 2019

As I luxuriate in free time and start to really trust that I am on holidays, I find myself completely engrossed in various creative ventures. With complete freedom from a teaching schedule, from holding the reins, from mentoring, guiding, loving and problem-solving, directing and inspiring in choir rehearsals, and all together doing work akin to air-traffic control on a daily basis, I find my mind absolutely alive with creativity.

I am joyfully alive, and so happy to engage in playful conversation with myself, the world, and all those creative ideas which have lain dormant for months. Oh, the joy of realising that pathway back into myself is still there, despite the hammering my energy levels and creative being have taken through everyday work!

I find myself writing words and looking back on my experiences, re-living events, examining happenings, and honing my descriptions on a daily basis in a way that makes my own heart flip with recognition. I realise that I have been so busy, and so mentally and emotionally stretched by teaching, that sometimes I do not recognise myself in my words during the school term.

Just keep going, you know the drill.

Journalling now is pin-prick accurate. It is both enlightening, and lighten-ing. My mind feels lighter, like there’s more room and freedom for ideas to play and be seen. There is no protective film or professional work-front to get through; I can just be. And it’s not to say that I am two different people, but there is a treadmill and speed that comes from teaching which inevitably puts you into “teaching go-mode”.

Two speeds, on or off.

Being reflective and compassionate in my teaching costs every ounce of energy I have, and it is solely directed at the students under my care. I give my time and energy freely, completely in love with my work.

But now…

I am playing the piano as if I am painting my every feeling and emotion, every sound is a colour that I shape like words being formed. I’m not practising accompaniments, or hurriedly cobbling together a transcription, I am playing from the heart. My heart. I am playing and creating for the pure joy of playing, and it is intoxicating. Plus, those of you who know the hoops I have jumped through in the last three weeks as a teacher and accompanist will know that I also have a fierce ulterior motive for practising; a somewhat fiery determination to play + hone my technique (and sass) to play the goddamn arse off my Year 12 accompaniments. But I digress…!

I am composing as if I am speaking. It’s magical to be playing with a palette of words, like coloured beads, and creating a thread of sound which is both an expression of my thoughts, a message I want to bring to life, and a connection of music and living ideas. It’s slippery, frustrating work, catching and refining those beautiful, elusive melodies, and yet it’s a conversation I am absolutely, completely enraptured by.

 

And I look at all that I am doing; journalling, writing, reading, composing, speaking, creating and I ask myself: What right do I have to be this creative in so many different fields?

Yes, I am on holidays and I have time to indulge my creative self and spirit. But shouldn’t I choose one place to refine? One place to strive for excellence, and to hone my ideas? Why am I being so selfish, so carefree, so audacious with my creativity that I am squandering hours joyfully engrossed in everything expressive?

How wasteful. How audacious. How selfish!

And then I think: Why shouldn’t I?

I am not being creative to strive toward excellence, even though I know that if I do it for long enough, excellence comes off what I create naturally, like a heat and light that others gravitate toward.

I am being creative for myself. I have a voice that is fluid and alive in many different mediums, why shouldn’t I delight in using it?

It actually doesn’t matter if I don’t reach a level of excellence in anything that I do at this moment in time; the only thing that matters is that I create. 

That I create because I am human, with a heart that works, and a spirt that is alive.

That I create because I feel, and that alone is enough for expression in any medium.

That I create because I am moved to do so, filled with inspiration and something to say.

That I create because it creates freedom, movement and life within my cells, mind and body, to allow new ideas to connect, and new understandings to form.

I am not creating for anyone. I am creating because I am human with a voice.

I can hold as many paint brushes, notes, sounds, keys, words, threads, and ideas as I want.

Create with quiet regularity and commitment long enough, with enough openness and courage, and excellence and uniqueness will resonate from my words, my music, my playing, my conducting, my voice, and my ideas. The authenticity will be unmistakeable.

Let me remember that I am creating for myself first, and if it resonates with others, then I am lucky and joyful indeed. If my creative and artistic endeavours gives voice, understanding, and connection to others, then what a privilege be allowed to affect them.

If I’ve moved someone with my creative work, well then, T H A N K Y O U.

For allowing me to move you.

 

a hundred and one strokes…daring to be creative…

March 12, 2015

hope-through-creation-nhowellLast year, I wandered through 33 art galleries in Seoul, Tokyo, London, Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague, Hungary, Munich, Milan, Florence, Rome, Barcelona, Madrid and Lisbon…each so different, breath-taking and thought-provoking.

So much life in each piece of artwork!

There were stories of whimsy, hums of contentment, joyful illuminations, crystalline clarity, rich old-worldliness, history, upon ache, upon time, upon suffering, upon space…every emotion was evoked as I wandered through the wonderful, enveloping calm that is an art gallery.

I can’t do this during normal teaching life! Yet here…it was so normal to wander through colour in parallel with my thoughts…and often with snippets of a composition being unconsciously inspired.

There was the gift of space and time to get to the heart of a thought or idea during these delicious wanderings…!

Hundreds and thousands of strokes and gestures, hundreds of re-paints, hundreds of changing, shimmering thoughts…heartaches and agonies I stood at the edge of and was asked to consider. Pure rage and harsh truth…all through the voice of the artist. They never once complained…all these strokes…they had just the same amount of time every day as I do right now.

What a blessing it is to have a voice, to be able to write, to compose + to shape a melody.

Each time I am afraid as to whether my idea will come to life, let me keep loving, shaping and practising my craft, as each of these artists did.

They gave voice to their most beautiful and creative selves…if I don’t have the courage to do that, I am not sharing all of my voice and all of my heart.