Creation

what does creativity mean to me

Have you ever wondered how you end up being you?  

Why you are so hooked up into creation?

I am a curious person. I wonder about everything, including the beginning of my life which started with creativity.

Walking into the surgery room, I felt like it was so unreal. I did not expect a surgery room to be that non-white. Shouldn't it be snowy white? How come it looked like greyish? Where were all those knives and those huge lights? DISAPPEARED. F**k, ER; you lied to me! All these thoughts flushed away when I saw this red tiny thing in my cousin's arms.

Sorry, I should not have called it a thing. She was after-all my so called "niece". She was so tiny and fragile. I felt like if I sqeezed her, she would be like a balloon with water filling inside...Pop just like that. Her greenish veins were visible against her thin red skin. Her fingers were curling in her hand,trying to hold her hand like a fist. Her hair was sticky and wet...not a great hairstyle I would say, and for a little girl, she did not have a lot of hair. However, she was so cute against her mother's breast. She looked so peaceful, like she was not disturbed by anything in the room no matter how loud we were.

I remembered it differently though.

When I was in my mum's stomach, everyone was very excited, looking forward to my arrivial. Whenever they saw my mum, they would speak rather loudly and often tried to feel my presence by leaning their heads against my mum's sticking out belly. Sometimes they would try to talk to me too, but what they did not know was I was not impressed by that. They sounded like monsters when they were speaking next to my mum's stomach. I had no idea what they were saying because I felt like my ears were being bombarded. I hate that feeling, so I aimed at the noise and kicked at it. I thought it would work, but it did not. They even got more excited, thinking that I was responding to their noise.

I tried to kick again...but suddenly a huge shout stopped me. He was yelling Auntie Emily...Auntie Emily until he saw my mum. That was my other cousin, Ryan. He stood there in front of her and asked a rather interesting question about how babies came to the earth.

If I was a mum, I would not come up as better answer as my mum did. I could see my creative genes might be from my mum.

She just giggled and answered, "babies are gifts from God. God creates everything, including us, Ryan. He uses mud to create our bodies, then he gives each of us different talents, personalities and appearance, so that we are all very unique. At last, he blows on us, so that we have soul.”

As a little developing fetus, I would not have understood anything that both of them had said, but interestingly enough, I did know creation marked the beginning of my life. I was created by another Father up in the sky. This creativity kept on growing in me.....

I was five when I first went to a live firework celebration. The blockades were surrounded the roads, so no car could pass by, and that everyone could walk up onto this bridge. For a little girl, I hate this walk. It was really something for me since it was super hilly and crowded. I did not know whether my dad had the ability to read my mind (I do believe everyone has a special ability) or not, he carried me on his back. A piggy back ride was just all I wanted. I liked being a giant and looked at everyone from up top, except for this bald guy next to me. I just wanted to knock his hairless shiny head so badly. However, something distracted me from doing so...

"BOOOOOM! BAM! BOOM!" Fireworks were starting. I could not help but looked at all those light-drops which was so colorful. At the same time, I was scared that the red and green sparks would fall for me, so I wrapped around my dad's neck rather hard. Soon, I started to relax and enjoyed the show. After I got back home, I did spend some time to capture this special moment with my crayons and papers. My mum was impressed with my drawing since I did try to perfect it by drawing the circles with coins, the straight lines with rulers, etc. Whenever I saw this drawing, it did bring me a smile. I realized I was once that creative. Creativity gave me a sense of achievement, success.

I should have kept my maths tests too. It would show how creative I was at that time. I hate maths a lot because creativity was not allowed during a test. Numbers looked like cute symbols, but they were difficult to understand. They were another foreign language which I could never master it.

So oftenly I barely passed my tests because I would forget most of the things that my mum had taught me before. Then, my panic mode was on. I could just stare at the question and tried my hadest to make sense of the equation. Yes, I tried to make sense of it in my own way. I would used the formula that I was most familiar with and figured out the answer. Honestly, the teachers should have given me a mark or two for my effort. How did you know my answer was wrong...math was something people created too...I just tried to make my own kelology. Oh well, creativity did not help me with my maths. Maths was limiting our creativity because everything was definite...even an infinity.

Creativity is not definite though; it is infinite. non-stop. keep on going.

I am trying to keep my creativity running as I know my life has started from nothing into something because of creativity. It is important to acknowledge that everyone does have the ability to create in the most mundane situation. It just depends whether you are able act it out and realize what you have done is called creation.

I am looking for the pleasure that I got from my creation when I was young. I am trying to keep improving. Feel free to criticize and leave a review.

Author's Note

Just a way for you to know more about me!

Reviews

[Laughing-Bear]

Creativity is not definite though; it is infinite. non-stop. keep on going. I like that statement it reminds me of art. Like the Great Father with this painters brush always creating with expectations the universe.

[Libby]

I really like this :D It's really different, and the memoirs in the womb are fascinating.