Last night, I went to a wonderful art show at the Fulton Street Collective where my friend Bryn (pictured above with her son Fischer) is an artist.
A poet named John Rybicki did some readings of not only his poems but also poems by children he had taught, and I was blown away.
Here's one:
Inside Each Snowflake
there is a waterfall
where God is taking a bath.
--Helena Markus, 4 years old
I think for children, being creative is just natural. Reminds me of something I read in one of my favorite kids' books The Dot by Peter Reynolds. The author mentions that if you ask a room full of kindergarteners who's an artist, everybody raises their hands, but if you asked a room full of older kids or grown-ups, hardly any one raises their hand (or something to that effect).
Why do so many of us lose our inner artist as we grow older? I think part of it is that we tend to view "real artists" as those who've been trained formally in art school and folks who know their art history and whatnot. Everybody else is a crafter.
It's late now, and I can't really follow through on this post, but Rachel of Magpie Girl wrote a most excellent post recently about embracing authority over who we are and what we do as artists. I highly recommend reading it.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009 at 12:01AM | 
