TOAD Talk: Anne Gregory CdeP 2015

This weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the Film Society and TASS’s screening of Freida Lee Mock’s A Strong Clear Vision, about Maya Lin and her creation of both the Vietnam War Memorial and the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery Alabama. If you attended the film, you too were probably struck by Lin’s artistic genius, and yes, strong clear vision of the purpose and messages of her work. It was an incredible film.

When I got home from the movie, I said to my husband, “Wow, that movie really made me wish I was creative.” And he said, “You are creative!” And I said, “No, no, not like coming up with creative solutions to problems or painting our bedroom, I mean creative like Maya Lin.” Of course, I made this fantastic film about veterans, civil rights, and a host of very important topics, about myself. I was whining. 

But after being down in the dumps and then trying to get over myself, I was still thinking about creativity. And of course, there are so many ways to be creative, and not all creativity needs to look like the sheer genius of Maya Lin’s. But I want to talk about one specific type of creativity that really appeals to me, and I think appeals to all of us: the creativity of children. 

Children are the most creative people you’ll ever talk to. They let their imaginations run wild. No drawing, no playtime scenario, no made-up game is too complicated, too fantastical, too nonsensical. Recently, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of hanging out with Ms. Bastian’s 6 year old daughter Caroline. One day this summer, when we were at the pool, Caroline immediately came up with a game for us to play. She said, “OK, so we each need to pick a color and a theme, and then we both go underwater, and we need to act out something that has to do with that theme and color, and then we come up and guess what we acted out.” I thought “fair enough, I can do that.” I picked the theme basketball and the color blue (in my head, of course). And the moment I went underwater, I found myself frozen. How do I act out something within the theme of “Blue Basketball?” We came back up from the water and she asked “What was that?” and I was like “I don’t know, basketball?” And she said, “Just do anything! It doesn’t matter.” So we continued on in the game, and I started acting out sports. Then we started acting out tea parties and dancing and gymnastics and singing karaoke, and we were having so much fun that when Ms. Bastian came to pick up Caroline, I found myself wanting to stay in the pool and keep playing. I hadn’t had that much fun in the pool for a long time. 

I also get to hang out with Mr. Garris’ son August. One day recently, August came to work with Mr. Garris, and ended up wandering into my office to hang out on my couch. We took out a notebook to draw, and I tried handing it off to him. But he said, “No, you draw!” I was filled with dread. I consider myself a terrible artist. My dread only increased when he said, “Draw mama and dada and Tyler and Erika!” Humans?! I can’t draw humans! I wanted to ask him, “Have you ever tried drawing hands?” I hesitated, but then I just drew. Granted, the drawings aren’t getting submitted to any competitions, but just the act of drawing, uninhibited, was freeing. I couldn’t stop myself from saying to him, “Sorry, they’re not very good.” But still, he said, “It’s Mama!”

One last story: I went to a concert last night, Durand Jones. He is an incredible singer and performer---I highly recommend you check him out. Now, he’s not a child (he’s 35), but the way he performed and danced and lept around the stage was so free and child-like. He got on the ground and waved his arms, he whipped his microphone around, he twirled and giggled and shouted. Part of me was saying, “Oh my god, he’s going to hurt himself, this is so crazy!” But the other part of me was dying to dance around in the crowd along with him, twirling and leaping and yelling like a child. It made me thing of a line from Taylor Swift’s song “seven” off of her album folklore about being a child, 

Please picture me

In the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream ferociously

Any time I wanted

There’s a point along the way in growing up where the world tells us to stamp out our childlike creativity, to quit our wild stories and silly dancing and nonsensical games in the pool and terrible drawings. Instead, I put so much pressure on myself to be good at art things: to be good at drawing, to crochet a beautiful sweater, or paint something that actually looks like a landscape. I don’t let myself just be creative in whatever way feels fun and silly and wild to me. It stops me from actually starting any creative project, because I just heap judgment on myself. Kids don’t do that. Caroline drew me something called a “pumpkin cat” and presented it proudly, with no explanation or justification. I loved it, and it made me want to draw a pumpkin rat to accompany it. 

Yesterday, I started painting frames to hang up family pictures in my house. I didn’t plan them out, and I tried not to look at Pinterest for aesthetic inspiration. I just started painting. And it felt wonderful. 

So, my advice in this TOAD talk: don’t put the pressure on yourself, like I did, to be Maya Lin. But try to draw inspiration from her creative spirit. She said in the movie that often doesn’t have a plan, she just lets the ideas flow out of her, uninhibited, and she starts making something.

Also hang out with children. They’ll push you to be creative in ways you may have forgotten how to be. Go to the Fab Lab and make things. When you go to the pool, play a game. Dance around with your friends like ferocious little children. Get out of your own way and let yourself be creative in ways that feel true to you, without judgment or pressure to be good at something. Find a blank canvas and just start painting.