All of my kids are creative. Three of the four are creative in traditional ways people think about things…art, music, drama, dance, etc. (The other one is a stud football player, which obviously requires plenty of creativity!).
I could brag on their many accomplishments, but you’d likely click away from here, thinking: “Great more cyber home movies.” So you’ll have to trust me when I tell you that they come up with some truly amazing stuff…well beyond their years.
But here’s the point: they don’t know any better.
And because they don’t think it’s odd or unique or weird that they write novels, storyboard movies, spend countless hours attending to minute details of a single drawing (right), choreographing musicals, or writing elaborate soundtrack music…they don’t have to fall prey to expectations.
(Also see Luke’s first foray into claymation HERE)
They’re not worried if what they create is “good enough.” Or if it will ever “get published.” Or if they’ll ever “make it.” They simply create. And it’s a beautiful thing to behold. It’s the personification of childlike wonder.
And it’s something I think most creative adults should aspire to. I know I do.