Make it up


Mike asked me during our regular smoke break about the ties that bind. What was it that loosely connected our group: same alma mater, smarts, working in media?

But it’s not that.

We’re all bound by our creativity, our passion to express ourselves in innovative ways.


Mike should know. He shoots photos on a regular basis, something has become more than a hobby or an obligation during milestone family moments.

He could do it professionally and earn a good living. He could continue to do it as an outgrowth of his love of the equipment and the lighting and the million little details that make a good photo (or the one detail that can ruin it).

Writing, which has always been a companion of mine, has been a real outlet for me in the past year. I feel true freedom to express myself and my ideas, and even found ways to work within others’ (read: paying) formats.

In small ways, I could dabble a little in cooking, and I used to dabble in piano and flute, but it’s been so long. I still work on my storytelling — the stories usually take awhile and seem more interesting to me than my intended audience of one.

I like to make birthday cards, and funny lists, and playlists for the mood or season at hand. I chop up songs to make ringtones so that when my friends call, the mood is set.

I made a 48-hour scramble film this year, and put together a couple of simple videos. I’d like to get my house to reflect some of this unspent creative energy: paint colors, framed art, better flow and so on.

My other friends paint, write, play music, sing, shoot photos, cook, tell jokes, act and maybe a hundred other things to fulfill themselves. It’s a decidedly interesting group to know.

One documentary I watched this weekend was “Class Act,” which showed the elimination of arts education in schools nationwide. One expert talked about the nature of creativity. When he asked a roomful of adults if they were creative, only a few raised their hands.

When he asked a classroom of kids if they were creative, they all raised their hands.

The creative me is a like a little kid at play. And he’s having too much fun to ever quit.

Don’t you wish you were creative like me?


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