Creativity doesn’t stop

David Bowie has passed away. I didn’t even know he was sick. I won’t claim to be the hugest fan in the world of his, but so many of his songs I did like. And I laughed the day my son’s friend was making him watch “Labyrinth”. He was all “Meh.” She was all “OMG BEST THING EVER!”

I told him to listen to his wise friend.

I was the child of the 70’s, born to parents who may have possibly fought over the record collection more than their own children when they divorced. Mom, Dad, it’s okay, we understand, the record collection was a thing of awesome. Eric Clapton, The Who, Dr. Hook, vinyl, reel-to-reel, you name it, my parents had it. I was probably the only kid who knew all the words to “American Pie” by age five. Okay, and to “Hotel California”. Okay, and I went through a Mamas & Papas phase as well, which was a bit odd when it was 1987 and I should have been into Bon Jovi.

But that was my childhood. Music. Always music. So much music. There was art too. Tons of art. All kinds of art.

Art and music, music and art. It was all parts of my 1970’s childhood. I remember watching my mom the artist leaning over the table, putting finishing touches on her latest work. I remember my father playing guitar, and being so very impressed that he could pick out tunes by ear after listening to a song just once.

My mother has gone through phases as an artist. Mixed media, fiber, paint, pastels. She’s always trying something new, always learning new techniques and forms.

My father didn’t pick up a guitar until his 30’s. It turns out he was bored waiting for me during my piano lessons, so decided to take guitar lessons at the same time.

My mother used to tell me that Grandma Moses didn’t start painting until she was in her 80’s.

Today I realized that David Bowie kept creating literally until his death.

I wrote this on Facebook, in just writing, but it wasn’t until my sister quoted it that it really struck me – Creativity doesn’t stop until you stop it yourself.

I learned this from my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather.

I need to remember this.

I have control over how creative I get to be. And the past few months, I realized I haven’t allowed my creativity to shine, to thrive.

It’s time to let it thrive. Time to release the glitter bombs!