Most of my posts on this challenge so far have been pretty short. It feels a bit like a cop out because the whole point is to give the ol’ writing muscles a good work out, isn’t it?
So as I sit here and try to think of anything at all to write along this theme, I am reminded of the dozens of things I’ve dreamed of making and doing over the last many years, all inspired by something that I’ve seen or read or listened to, somewhere along the line.
I could get quite ridiculous about it and go into a discussion on what can or cannot be considered art but I won’t because a) I’m too clouded in Brain Fog to think that deeply about it and b) I’m not sure anyone – even the most revered of academics and critics – has the right to decide whether or not someone else’s creation may be called art. My humble pennies on the subject amount to the opinion that if it is the result of a creative effort and it communicates something, anything at all, to someone, then it’s art.
So I have been and am inspired, often – almost all the time, in fact, by some form of art, to do, create, have or pursue something…
I remember watching movies as a child and feeling a surge of energy afterwards, a sense of possiblitly. That’s inspiration by art.
I once had the idea to buy a bunch of coloured, disposable cameras and take my kids out to parks and museums, letting them take random pictures of the things they saw there and then decorating their rooms with giant blow-ups of their photographs and making hanging mobiles or sculptures out of the disposable cameras.
And tonight I went to the launch of the latest book by one of my favourite authors and, listening to the interview questions being asked and the answers she gave, I was inspired. I used to draw on the things I saw in everyday life, too, and write and write and write. It didn’t matter if it was a poem or a letter or just a few descriptive paragraphs. I was reminded tonight of how that felt and it made me want to feel it again.
So you can count on my being here for a while yet.