I've been thinking about creative pursuits a bit lately. Particularly about the drive, the need, some of us have to be creative. I count myself in this group ... though thinking about it for a second, I should revise that to read 'that all of us have'. Not to get all heavy about it, but to be able to express yourself in some way, shape or form must be kinda fundamental to being human.
I spend three days a work working for a huge publisher, doing a job I like: subediting. Now, to put this in context, that means reading (where I work, generally very well written) articles, tightening them up and (hopefully!) improving them, cutting text, writing snappy headlines and witty intros. In effect, I think this would qualify as a creative way to spend the day. I mean, it ain't cleaning toilets or manning a checkout or emptying bins, is it?
I feel the need to write stuff that's mine. My words, my thoughts, my expressions. I spend Mondays and Tuesdays at home cramming chores and household mundanities into every waking second so that when E goes to sleep I can sit down and write stories. I am lucky that I have a steady trickle of freelance work to keep me going; I've not yet had to go out there seeking it.
So despite the time crush there's a little bit of me that goes 'aaah' when I sit down and write an article. Or on this blog. It's a bit of a revelation for me that I might get the same creative buzz from blogging. I guess it just hadn't occurred to me, which is a bit dumb because I am (well, used to be when I had the time) a prolific diarist.
It's nice, even if only for the creative outlet.