I am Human, Hear me, See me, and Understand Expression
Greetings!
Creativity and expression can be held in many capacities, through the spoken and written word, art, dance, voice, instruments, dedication to work, spreadsheets, business proposals, all the way down to how your morning coffee is brewed. Creativity and expression seem to be intransigent to the human being. In some way, shape or form we want to express and to be seen, heard or understood. I have been writing creatively ever since I was capable of putting words together. In elementary school we had a writing lab. During class time we would write out story lines and then when we were finished with the story line we would type it up on the computer, print it off, and take it across the school to the writing lab. There we would work with the teacher's aid in binding and decorating the cover. While the rest of the class was finishing 4-5 books each semester, I walked away that year with 23 little books that I had made. I have always loved writing, reading, written word and the preformed word.
This love of words is what pushed me to pursue a writing degree. I love writing creatively but through academia, it seems, the creative impulses and desires must be cast aside for the more contemplative, realistic, and educational styles. I try to supplement some creative writing within my academic schedule. Here and there on scrap pieces of paper are poems and short little stories. It helps to keep the mundane way of academic writing from overshadowing and loosing the spark and need for creation. I was talking with some friends about how this blog came to be and where I was when I started it. I was sitting in an intensive class and I needed an outlet to keep my mind from wondering, so I started writing. After my first post I started filling out the profile for the blog. There is a random question generator that prompted a question for me to tell the story of the frog and the wig. I started typing away and hit submit. That is when the little error message filled my screen "this post may not exceed 400 characters." 400 CHARACTERS!!?!?! (that is including punctuation and spaces) Telling a writer they only have 400 characters to express them selves is like telling a surgeon they can only do have of their procedure. I was a little indignant at this outcome, but modified my well written short story to accommodate this unfair treatment of expression. So while there is a short snippet of this story, here is my full expression:
Expression is what makes each of us unique. It develops who we are, strengthens our own understandings and opens our minds to the understandings of others. The world tries to limit and suppress creativity and expression and by doing so extinguishes the next Rembrandt, Mozart, Spielberg, or Prima donna.
Creativity and expression can be held in many capacities, through the spoken and written word, art, dance, voice, instruments, dedication to work, spreadsheets, business proposals, all the way down to how your morning coffee is brewed. Creativity and expression seem to be intransigent to the human being. In some way, shape or form we want to express and to be seen, heard or understood. I have been writing creatively ever since I was capable of putting words together. In elementary school we had a writing lab. During class time we would write out story lines and then when we were finished with the story line we would type it up on the computer, print it off, and take it across the school to the writing lab. There we would work with the teacher's aid in binding and decorating the cover. While the rest of the class was finishing 4-5 books each semester, I walked away that year with 23 little books that I had made. I have always loved writing, reading, written word and the preformed word.
This love of words is what pushed me to pursue a writing degree. I love writing creatively but through academia, it seems, the creative impulses and desires must be cast aside for the more contemplative, realistic, and educational styles. I try to supplement some creative writing within my academic schedule. Here and there on scrap pieces of paper are poems and short little stories. It helps to keep the mundane way of academic writing from overshadowing and loosing the spark and need for creation. I was talking with some friends about how this blog came to be and where I was when I started it. I was sitting in an intensive class and I needed an outlet to keep my mind from wondering, so I started writing. After my first post I started filling out the profile for the blog. There is a random question generator that prompted a question for me to tell the story of the frog and the wig. I started typing away and hit submit. That is when the little error message filled my screen "this post may not exceed 400 characters." 400 CHARACTERS!!?!?! (that is including punctuation and spaces) Telling a writer they only have 400 characters to express them selves is like telling a surgeon they can only do have of their procedure. I was a little indignant at this outcome, but modified my well written short story to accommodate this unfair treatment of expression. So while there is a short snippet of this story, here is my full expression:
A Wig of Many Colors
Philip the frog lived deep in the woods and all by himself,
because, on the tippy-top of his little green little head there was but one
strand of blue hair! One day Big Momma blue bird flew through the deep woods.
Looking down upon the land she caught a glimpse of blue leaping through the
trees. Big Momma swooped down into the branches. Philip quickly hid himself
behind near by leaves and spoke with a shaky voice,
"Who are you and why are you here?"
The blue bird replied, "I am Big Momma, I have a nest
of baby birds on the other side of the Crystal Lake. I crossed the lake in
search of food." Big Momma hopped to a closer branch.
"Who are you and why do you hide behind the leaves?”
Philip peaked out form behind the leaves. "My name is
Philip, I live here in the deep woods to hide my blue hair from the rest of the
woods."
Big Momma was confused. "Why do you hide your blueness?
I have blue feathers and soar through the woods with great pride.
Philip hopped out from behind the leaves. "I am but a
small green frog with one stand of blue hair on the tippy-top of my head. All
the other frogs have many hairs and I have but one hair of blue."
Big Momma saw the sadness and embarrassment on the little
frogs face. "Meet me here tomorrow, on this branch," Big Momma said.
The next day Philip heard the flapping of many wings. Big
Momma had brought all the birds of the woods to laugh at Philip and his one
blue hair. "PHILIP!" he heard his name. Philip did not want to leave
Big Momma away from her babies. Carefully wrapping his single blue hair around
the lowest branch and in one little jump Philip’s only blue hair was pulled
from the top of his head. Philip was greeted, at the top of the tallest tree,
by many colors of birds. Each bird had a single feather within their beak, "Philip,
the bald frog," Big Momma said, "each of the many colored birds from
across the woods, would like to give you a feather to fashion a wig to place on
your little green head. You are now a frog with a wig of many colors!" To
this day while gliding over the woods of Crystal Clear Lake a flash of many
colors can be seen hopping through the woods.
THE END
"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms." ~ 1 Peter 4:10
Blessings & Joy
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