Creativity? What is it? Who has it?
So many single, instantaneous moments of beauty go unnoticed, unrecorded every day.
The flicker of a tree shadow across a plain wall; the purity of a newly unfurled leaf; the perfection of a new petal; the sunlight filtering across a man's body as he reads the newspaper surrounded by street grafitti; the gloss of a duck's feather in the grass; the perfection of a smooth stone.
All of them triggers - touchstones to memory, to starting points for creativity - things that stir some deep, intuitive response.
I gather things. I gather moments. I surround myself with the visual prompts that give me the key to memory, to my own subconscious. I accumulate and display these 'tiny moments of beauty' because they whisper with my imaginings.
My house is full of the unexpected. Even the curl of a dried leaf may stir some half-formed idea; it may hold the key to a short story, a painting, a photograph, a new handmade book.
Creativity is making something of those unformed inspirations, those "vapoury, floating intuitions." It is catching at the shadows of moving thoughts.