Creativity.

  I think of myself as an artist. It’s a little difficult to be considered an artist when you have absolutely no talent for drawing, painting, sculpting, or even writing, but that only means that I have to be an especially creative artist.

  Most often, I express my creativity through acquiring beautiful things and arranging them in lovely ways. I have a very low tolerance for ugly. I literally spend hours in Goodwill sifting through many, many items that were created in poor taste, searching for the one beautiful item I think I’m meant to buy that day.

  I wish I were someone who could take ugly items and make them beautiful. Perhaps I do so with space. I suppose it’s possible that my decorating is actually pleasing to others…that I have taken a plain space and turned it into one that is at least comfortable.

  It seems possible to express creativity in interactions with others, as well. I adore buying and giving gifts. That always feels like a creative endeavor to me.

  It feels creative to put the convertible top down on a hot day, tie my hair back, put on a scarf and drive.

  I am a mediocre piano and guitar player, but playing has never been about passing or failing. It’s about something entirely different, something almost indescribable, transcendent. My dad used to say that every song I chose to try to play made tears well up in his eyes even if I played the chords too slow to decipher the melody.