It is the end of November, and I realize I didn’t blog everyday. While I wouldn’t call it a success, I wouldn’t call it a major failure either. I did push myself to write more, and when you include recaps of our wedding for Adventures to the Altar, I did do a lot of blogging this month. I thought a lot about what to write, and even came up with some funny ideas that I was sort of afraid to share with the world. Sometimes it’s a challenge to overcome the fear of putting yourself out there. I also noticed a lot about my creative process this month.

I didn’t think I was a very creative person even last week. I can summarize a great story or tell you about my mundane life, but I don’t think I could offer you anything original. I don’t ever remember my imagination running wild as a kid. I didn’t feel the need to. I had my cousins and sister who would come up with the game or story, and I would play along. I read books, and they opened up the world I lived in, but I never came up with anything on my own. And the stories I wrote were so painfully boring that you would think I had never left my house.

Now, what I imagine the most are huge kitchens. Kitchens with marble countertops, nice appliances, bar stools, a huge bay window with a breakfast nook, and a pot rack where beautiful copper cookware hangs from. Nobody is ever in the kitchen. But the kitchens change daily. They are different colors, have different tile, overlook the beach one day and a lush forest the next. I think that my imagination may be telling me more about my desires rather than a need to express myself or produce original ideas.

As an adult, there is little that I find completely original. Pinterest basically feeds me every craft I want to make and every recipe I’ve considered cooking. Weddingbee gave me tons of wedding ideas that I ripped off for our wedding. Why am I telling you all this? I don’t think creativity is dead. In fact, I know it’s not. My husband has a great imagination. He sings random songs and tells great stories and knows exactly what every character he’s read sounds like. I find this so different from myself. And I love it, but I wonder if I am the one who is stifling my creativity.

My friend offered that perhaps I haven’t pushed myself far enough, or as I said before, maybe I am scared to release my creative thoughts. There is much I admire about people’s creativity, and I wonder if I myself have that capacity to, literally and liberally, create. The key might be practice, writing down things I find inspiring or ideas I have. This is a fairly personal discovery and development. And thanks for reading.





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