Ok, I’ve hit the wall! Daily posting proves rigorous for this full-time teacher and at times I will miss the mark. The posts will still be numbering although they will not coincide with the day’s date. I am also working on categorizing them better for finding past favorites. With that said, here is day 25 a little late:
I do not remember when the first song visited in the night. What I do remember is every word dancing melodically through my mind upon awakening.
This experience began a trickle of music returning after many years of neglect.
The musical visitations increased into a stream of melodies and words awakening in the night and surprising in the daylight—especially when I was driving.
For some reason, I was reluctant to pick up my guitar except for the times my students begged me relentlessly.
Finally I gave in and agreed to a musical day right before school ended last year. Students, another teacher, and I enjoyed a sing along with many taking turns playing their favorite songs.
As a child, I learned to play the guitar by going along with my mother to our neighbor’s home. Pat provided lessons to a circle of women in our quaint Leona Valley town. Come to think of it, this is how I learned to dance as well—through another neighbor who transformed her garage into a dance studio. This tiny girl—who continually walked on her toes—came alive when the music began.
A dance teacher and guitar teacher captivated my youthful soul with passion for a particular art form they enjoyed. Seeds of desire planted grew into a life filled with dance and music. I danced my way through high school and then joined an amateur international performing arts team overseas when only twenty.
Currently, my dance outlet is co-leading and choreographing “The Endeavour Ballroom Dance Group” with my daughter, Andy. We seek to inspire youth to explore dance as we did when young; those drawn towards this amazing art form that I first discovered in my neighbor’s garage studio.
Homespun creativity is contagious! Perhaps because once the pressure to perform is gone, you can try something new without fear of failure.
Sunday I spent a delightful afternoon with my parents and their dear friends, Marty and Kari. Mom crotched and Kari quilted as we visited. I have watched mom quilt my entire life but Kari was sewing squares with fabric from a Renaissance dress she made for her granddaughter. The fabric and colors drew me. Before long, I was snapping pictures so I could take remembrances home in digital form.
You never know where your homespun creativity may venture. A few months ago, the daughter of my former missionary friends contacted me through facebook.
I had taught Zoe to dough sculpture when she was a child while living as neighbors in Amsterdam, Holland. I will never forget her email, “Your dough sculptured roses made it all the way to Costa Rica! I worked with children there and taught them to sculpture with dough.”
No, we may never make it to “American Idol” or become famous by this world’s standards. However, neither talent nor fame validates our art. We create because we love to do so. Moreover, artistic people tell of someone in their past who inspired them.
What could happen if we spun a little more creativity at home and shared our gift with children in the world? Today I am thankful for those who shared their talents with me, homespun style!
Blogging Identity Quest: http://kayellen.typepad.com/ Kay left a wonderful comment and I traced her link to find an amazing blog site. Kay is a designer whose photography highlights her amazing work.
Blog learning noted: I so enjoy the many friendly people who take the time to leave a comment. What a wonderful world of bloggers there are!