Thursday - June 07, 2007
"Permission to take calculated risks."
Your mind can be the safest playground on earth.
You can fall off your mental swing and as long as you don't say ouch in public,
no one will notice or care or think you're a doofus. I talk to myself a lot.
Which several colleagues have found peculiar. Given that it is only one
peculiarity in a host of other peculiarities, everything smudges into relative
normality. "It's not stranger than the other strange things she does."
What, how and whom we play with molds us more than reason can explain. My sister and I were very close growing up, but I always found the time to play on my own. I captured bottle-green flies on the clothesline out in the backyard, placed them into empty matchboxes and buried them with all due ceremony, including the careful placement of a matchstick cross. I made up characters and spun their stories while wiping dinner crumbs off the table. When I played alone, no one was around to tell me no, that's not proper, or no, you must be kinder to flies.
Playing alone lets us risk without hurt. We are built social from the chromosomes up, true, but what we do when we are alone and free from comment defines other parts of our character. It permits us to experiment without fear.
When alone, our creativity does not suffer sanctions. It can grow. It can put on some muscle. And then, we can bring it out to play in front of other people, with a little less self-consciousness.
We talked about bravery today, in our workshop. I do prefer the word audacity, though - it's bravery with a hint of cheek. It's bravery fueling creativity, and the other way around. Brave ideas change what we believe and how we behave, but brave ideas cause no little fear in those who need to realize them with money.
Successful artists and entrepreneurs must be audacious, and yet temper that audacity with hard sense, like poker players. It is a tightrope walk I wish more could walk; we would all be the richer for it.
What, how and whom we play with molds us more than reason can explain. My sister and I were very close growing up, but I always found the time to play on my own. I captured bottle-green flies on the clothesline out in the backyard, placed them into empty matchboxes and buried them with all due ceremony, including the careful placement of a matchstick cross. I made up characters and spun their stories while wiping dinner crumbs off the table. When I played alone, no one was around to tell me no, that's not proper, or no, you must be kinder to flies.
Playing alone lets us risk without hurt. We are built social from the chromosomes up, true, but what we do when we are alone and free from comment defines other parts of our character. It permits us to experiment without fear.
When alone, our creativity does not suffer sanctions. It can grow. It can put on some muscle. And then, we can bring it out to play in front of other people, with a little less self-consciousness.
We talked about bravery today, in our workshop. I do prefer the word audacity, though - it's bravery with a hint of cheek. It's bravery fueling creativity, and the other way around. Brave ideas change what we believe and how we behave, but brave ideas cause no little fear in those who need to realize them with money.
Successful artists and entrepreneurs must be audacious, and yet temper that audacity with hard sense, like poker players. It is a tightrope walk I wish more could walk; we would all be the richer for it.