Creativity. . Look, what I made! . . .

I scribed. . . .it is a bag of wind we seem to contend with and problems never ending.  The problems stem from diverse personalities complicating and darkening what should be an enlightened situation.  What is obvious to one is dark to another.

You think the world’s state of affairs too complicated to solve.  Yet should they be solved, what then the reason to continue?   People then would simply start trouble to spark things up a bit.  Too simple an answer.

When peoples are not operating on the same level, coming from such diverse beginnings as culture, genetics, health conditions, etc, you have a coloration that confounds even the Solomons.  One swipe does not wipe out problems.  Even annihilation would not be the answer. 

For the desire to create is so strong that another place would be found for manifestation.  And the creativity that would explode would put the same situations into play. . . .

Creativity requires expression, which will take on the coloration of the individual souls, the emotional as well as all the previous adjectives.  And memory being what it is, would soon also color situations and promote problems for people working and living together. 

With creativity, lesson plans burgeon.  Problem solving nests within the problems, within the creation, within the creators.

Unless there is personal growth, there will be unrest.  Look to solve what darkens your life.  Begin where you are.  When you bring peace to yourself,  you also bring it to others.

My argument. . . one man can ruin a world and a world of prayerful men cannot save it?  (what is the lesson here?)

Creation. . .

An ear from here will touch an elbow there
and mid the deafening roar, hear the shout,
‘I am here!’   ‘I am here!’

And another world is given birth with form
strangely reminiscent of a time and place
where you held me and I, you.

Together then, a life, a birth and a new world
created by the unmistakable combustion
amidst the resounding silence of an I love you.

Sublimely exiting, noisily entering, within
the crackling cartilage of old and new forms,
new worlds are born of memory, of experience,

housed in the eternal mind.

 

artwork by Claudia Hallissey

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