Creativity

Last page of a story I wrote in 3rd grade

When I was a little kid all I liked to do was draw and paint.  I used to make books of my drawings -  for instance, I once drew the alphabet in animals with names that corresponded to very letter.  Art supplies were always my favorite gifts.  I was obsessed with a Crayola Caddy that my mom bought me for Christmas one year.  It was like a lazy susan that was filled with paint, markers, pencils and crayons in a rainbow of Crayola colors.  I even won a few prizes at art shows and contests around town and had a watercolor painting a did of a deer in snow with a fuchsia sky on display at the local library branch.
     I'm not exactly sure when I let the creativity slip away for the 1st time.  My parents got divorced when I was 7 and that was physically, mentally and emotionally crippling for me at that age.  Some other traumatizing life events took place after that coupled with the fact that I was cruelly teased and bullied in school - all of this lead me to retreat within myself with a profound desire to escape and disappear.  I exiled myself to TV Land and anything else that would distract me from the emotional pain I felt in reality.  I would shop lift and spend my whole afternoon at the arcade and slowly and surly the creative stuff fell by the wayside.  Of course later on when I discovered drugs and alcohol it was a match made in heaven - until it turned to hell.
     When I got to high school I finally had like minded friends.  We were definitely a motley crew but the thing that bound us all together was a level of intelligence that was generally missing from the majority of our high school peers.  We sought out cool bands and artists to explore and we challenged and accepted each other no matter what freaky style we had going on.  It was a pretty creative group to say the least.  In my senior year of high school I felt like I was ready to explore my creative outlets again, being surrounded by all of my artsy friends inspired me.  I took a ceramics class with this amazing art teacher that had been my mortal enemy in 9th grade.  This time around we got along like gang busters and I let her teach me and expand my horizons and it felt great to make art again.
     Around this time I had also started doing photography.  I took some classes and got an amazing camera for my Bday and even joined the yearbook committee which was a life saver my senior year.  It meant a stack of hall passes and "get outta class free" cards that my favorite English/Photography teacher & yearbook advisor had given me at the start of the year.  I spent a majority of my year stoned in the darkroom and then had the privilege of flooding my senior yearbook with photos of all the cool kids and paying little mind to the jocks.  It was a very Breakfast Club moment.
     Since then my life has been this constant tug-of-war between me and my creative side.  For some reason when life gets tough I'm generally inclined to let the artistic side go instead of exploring it and using it to reach new heights and depths of art.  These days I've gotten a lot better at expressing myself and even let some of my uglier truths rise to the surface so I can tell on myself and free myself from them.  The writing has helped a lot.
     I 1st got the idea to write a book of my stories about 8 years ago on a trip to Costa Rica.  I was going to meet a large group of friends, mostly from NYC, and when I booked my travel I had the dates wrong.  I ended up arriving 4 days before everyone else and it was the best thing that could've happened.  In those 4 days all of the stresses of city life melted away, I read 2 books and had this creative avalanche pour out of me when I put pen to paper to start jotting down one of my famous stories involving a really expensive pair of custom made pants and some cheap ass cocaine (you'll have to read the book!)  It was one of those moments when the words literally flowed out of me as if it wasn't even me writing.  The pen was furiously scribbling words on paper and I was sitting in the backseat like a passenger or observer.  When you have those moments while you are creating something it is truly magically - it's when everything aligns and you are really in the moment.
     Just this year I have re-committed myself to finishing this book that was conceived on the sands of the beach, next to the jungle of Costa Rica many moons ago.  I have been getting up every day a 1/2 hour earlier than normal so that I can write before my day gets going.  Some days it's a challenge and other days the words flow out from that magical sweet spot of creativity.  The book will be done in a few moths time and I cannot wait to share my ridiculous happenings with you and the world!!!!