There is a creative energy that simmers, locked under the surface skin of routine, of ‘real’ life. It seeps through cracks, dripping melancholy into old days and new ones.
Most days there is no space to bring it to a rolling boil.
And so, my Creativity is a soup seasoned by time. This is not necessarily a bad thing. I am a watcher, and time spent observing, moving and being with others and the world brings me contentment. I have little obsessive passion that needs to be seared in the pan, captured in immediate clouds of musts and needs.
But when the time comes, when the ingredients conspire… what deliciousness… what fizz… what music!
In these moments I see the magic. Magic in the wilding wind, the tiniest creatures, the sweet lipped flowers speaking in whispers, rain choreographed for my skin, & books become songs, scent becomes stories, and so
I begin mixing.
Photographs taken with the inspiring Shannon Aroha (shannonaroha.com)