Dreams #1

My girlfriend was a French-Italian gangster. They specialized in the drug trade, mainly heroin and cocaine, and were quite successful at it. They were based out of Paris. I took no part in any of it, but rather just knew about it, but didn't think that much about it. The main sequence of the dream was in the Palace of Versailles, where my girlfriend with her two dream sisters were sorting cocaine and heroin, while her three dream brothers sat at a long table right behind them talking about the cops and stuff. I was there to get my girlfriend, and I talked to the head brother for a bit. Then, in a dark alley with her against the wall crying, she told me that she had left a note for her brother because he was mad at her, telling him that she was going to bust the operation and tell the police about it. She was scared. Then I woke up.

Blog Reflection #2

With my seventh creative act, the poem "High Back Chair", I struggled with the writing of it. I originally conceived the idea after seeing a High Back Chair on someones lawn with a free sign on it while riding my bike. I thought about how something that obviously has so much history and craft put into it is just being tossed out, and how I felt about it. However, what I want to talk more about is the struggle I felt while writing it.

Creative Act #8

For my creative act this week, I've included the beginning of a short story I'm working on that is highly unedited. I did this because I think it can be more interesting to see the process of how people complete their creative acts, and thus by showing this little bit of what how I do it I can show my creative process.

Creative Act #7

High Back Chair

When I saw you
with your oak legs
sunk into that
golden lawn, I wondered why
you left me alone
in my magazine house.

"Maybe I should take
you home"

but that corner has
been filled, and
your colleages gone
because like
children playing outside
you never happen anymore.

It's time to get serious...

If I don't post some sort of new, edited/unedited creative work each week, whoever figures it out can give me a solid punch. Or eat my lunch. Or any other kind of punishment. I need to get serious.

Can Creativity Be Taught?

Creativity is one of those non-spatial things that no one can define or grasp. It isn't something specific, like pottery, and it isn't something general, like sports. It's a category inside a category, where different acts are all defined creative, but those acts are not always creative. A painting could be good, but it could also be a good painting that doesn't do anything creative, either mimicking a style or copying a subject. This brings to question, can creativity be taught?