Whimsy

"You must not ever stop being whimsical. 

And you must not, ever, give anyone else 

the responsibility for your life."

-- Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

Self portrait 3-7-13

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, 

who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, 

and gave to it neither power nor time."

-- Mary Oliver

These are words I try to live by.

They are the words of poet Mary Oliver, and they strike such a deep chord in me. I don't want to be a regretful person who neglected -- or worse, suffocated -- the cries of my needy, unruly, goofy, curious, rebellious creativity and let it turn blue with neglect in its cradle.

In the end, my "work" may not make a damn bit of difference to anyone else.  But I can't worry about that because I can't do anything about that. I am the caregiver of my own creative life. It is my responsibility and I take it very seriously. I must feed it. I must teach it. I must discipline it. I must indulge it.

And above all else, I must let it out to play.

Self portrait 3-7-13

That is what this blog is about, really.  It is a nursery where, for these 365 days at least, I am feeding and teaching and disciplining and indulging and playing with my "restive and uprising" creativity. There is necessary structure -- crib rails, if you will, to keep the child's body safe from falling while its dreams spill and burble unbound. But the structure and rules also have doors that open wide onto abundant freedom, a sprawling playground with plenty of vast space for whimsy and silliness to shout and swing, to run and ramble.

I am not trying to impress anybody. I am not trying to be profound. I am simply trying to nurture my own personal and creative growth by giving it a space where it can explore, experiment, try, fail, succeed and test possibility. You are invited to join me as often or as rarely as you like. I hope you feel welcome here. I hope I make you smile sometimes and I hope I make you think sometimes. I hope I make you feel something. If I am occasionally profound, I apologize. It is most likely an accident.