right brain, left out

I’ve always been a creative person. I’m enamored with color and design and imagination. I see things differently from a lot of people. As a kid, it was frustrating. Why couldn’t math just magically make sense to me? Why wasn’t my first reaction to see the logical solution? Why was my answer to a question always so different from everyone else’s?

Growing up in a family of left-brained people, I thought there was something wrong with me. So I put my creativity in the closet, treating it like that winter coat you use only when you need it but ignore during the other seasons.

Over the years, I’ve slowly come to accept my creativity, to open the closet and let my dominant right hemisphere roam freely. And a big part of that process was a book – A Whole New Mind by Daniel Pink. It was therapy for me. (more…)

reclaimed

Confession: Yesterday I tore a page out of a book.

I’ve never done that before. I’ve never even dog-eared a page. I try to keep everything as new as possible. If I could make things look newer than when I got them, I would. I’m the person you want to lend books to, because I can promise there won’t be a single wrinkle in those pages when you get it back.

So what was it that compelled me to rip a page? It wasn’t anger. There was nothing wrong with the book. But I tore in the name of craftiness. (more…)

on inspiration’s way

It whispers and begs and bids me come,
“I will be but a moment,” say I.
But a moment grows from one to two.
“Just a moment, a moment more,” say I.

Louder it grows as it pleads and cries,
But focused on my task am I.
Though I long to lay it aside and come,
I cannot. “Please wait, please wait,” say I.

‘Tis a fickle creature that asks me here,
And yet so devoted am I.
For when it calls, I answer and beg,
“Do not leave. Stay here, stay here,” plead I.

For once it is lost, ’twill not be regained.
Oh what a fool, what a fool, am I.
For I seized it not when it was mine.
“Come back, come back to me,” cry I.

Yet all is quiet and much too still,
For now it has left me alone.
When next it comes I will answer post-haste,
“But for now I wait, I wait,” say I.