On Optimism and Creativity

This is the product of last night's movie night at Nana's. About 8 of us gathered to watch Harold and Maude, that old Ruth Gordon and Bud Post story about a deranged, suicidal youth who falls in love with a deranged, suicidal woman four times his age. I'd seen this movie for a film class in college, and all I remembered was hating it. I can't even remember now why the professor picked it.

I did enjoy it more now than I did back in college. Some of the gags made me laugh right out loud. But I also remember why I hated it. This notion that a boy who was born with almost everything should become obsessed with death and suicide because he wants even more -- well, I just wanted to slap him. Spoiled brat.

But there was a very subtle theme underlying parts of that movie, so subtle that I'm still not entirely sure it was deliberate. Both main characters have creative temperaments. Neither one has figured out a good method for channeling that creativity. Both are suicidal -- and both are very damaged people in need of a lot of therapy.

So I watched this, and knit half the cuff of the second cashmere mitten, and pondered all the ways stifled creative urges can muck up a creative person's head, and then I came home to this:






















Miss Seven, our first grade diva, has always had a thing for writing notes. Even before she could write actual letters, she would write me "notes" of all kinds, chicken scratches and swoops that neatly followed the lines on the page. When she learned her alphabet and could start writing actual notes, they were always these heartfelt (and occasionally heartbreakingly sweet) notes about how much she loves different people and animals. These were usually appended, "P.S. No Boys!"

Lately, she has taken to sprawling across various surfaces in my office and concentrating fiercely to come up with these notes. The postscripts are gone. She talks to me at length about how sometimes she doesn't know what she wants to write, or doesn't know the exact words she wants to use, but she still wants to write all the time. There is usually much pencil-sucking and harrumphing while she writes these days. She is clearly going through a creative growth cycle that includes a bit of blockage.

And I adore her for it, and of course will do everything in my power to encourage her -- I mean, listen to the rhythm in her fledgling poem, the child has an ear for language -- but my god. Another writer in the family. Poor kid has no idea what she's in for.

So I've been getting her some personalized notepads from vistaprint -- if you guys don't already know about vistaprint, you should get on their mailing list for their free offers. You can get really nice personalized notecards and the like for the price of shipping and handling, and the quality is fantastic. Anyway, I thought personalized notes would be a subtle way to encourage her to keep her creative channel open and flowing. After that movie last night, I'm really feeling committed to that particular mission!