Creativity

Walking along unenthusiastically she enters the open doors to the gallery. Other things on her mind as she strolls along thinking about what she’s going to wear tomorrow, what she’s going to do on the weekend. Walking hastily through the gallery she takes a glimpse at the canvasses on the wall. Slowly but surely her pace slows down, her concentration begins to focus on what she’s there for in the first place. The colours and forms begin to merge together and she starts to take notice of whats around her. She thinks of the way the piece has been created the use of materials, medium, passion and sanity of the artist. She starts to fill in the 'missing' parts of the jigsaw with her own views on the piece. She puts together a story in her mind of how the piece was created. She considers the inspiration for the piece, other artist’s spring to mind. It's like you've seen that piece before just in a different form everything has always been done once they just take different formats .She thinks to her self, how long did it take? , where was it done? was it in a studio, at the side of a lake, in the great outdoors or perhaps like herself at home in the kitchen. Anything and everything goes through her mind. She thinks of the climate in which the artist worked in, it may sound funny but heat can affect the mind in strange ways.

She moves on to another piece with the urge to step over the wire and touch the painting for herself. It’s like her fingers are itching to reach up and feel the texture, the brushstrokes. She knows its oil on canvas its not like she hasn't used it before but she still wants to run her finger tips over it .You can look but don't touch ,one of those things all you want to do is the opposite. It’s a way of communication rather than just looking as a viewer you can relate to the artist through sense of touch.

She reassures herself that she could do that, conjuring up ideas of how she would attempt it in her own way. She must be in that 'CREATIVE' mood otherwise it all goes tits up as soon as the paint brush touches the canvas. She must be inspired, motivated this is the perfect time once she goes to a gallery its all systems go from then. Her work must be played attention to by all costs otherwise this sense of under achievement draws over. At least one comment although a shy person within and hates being in the spot light she feels satisfaction from people taking an interest positive or negative.

She leaves the gallery many ideas running through her head.Subconsciously she notices things on the floor just items if rubbish, little things like that she thinks of ways of turning them into pieces of art. Inspired by other artists she’s on a roll, even by a clump of dust on the floor. Walking up the escalators at the train station notice boards and posters with new exhibitions become apparent. She finally gets home collapses on the sofa, her mum asks her about her day and she talks of the pieces she'd seen with such enthusiasm.Her mother gets involved asking questions while her dad sits there completely confused ,oblivious to the world of art ,unable to understand how a splash of paint on a canvas can be called art. That night laying in bed thinking about what she'd seen, just about to fall asleep an idea will pop into her head that’s it she has to get up jot it down can't have the risk of losing this one.