Creativity comes in a range of guises. It could be the sudden impulse to paint, the newfound longing to learn guitar or the utterly convincing conversion into a 1920s flapper girl.It could be what you feel rushing from your fingertips as you type a blog post, or it could be the feeling of excitement as you start hand making your best friend a present, just because you can. It could be what you’re desperately in need of, when you can’t make the chords match the melody and you’re about to have a breakdown, or when your art coursework is due in tomorrow and you’ve lost your paints.
It could flow from your fountain pen as you write that English essay, or be engraved in the guitar-strings-induced callouses on your fingertips. It could be in the sigh of relief that escapes when you finally nail that chord progression, or in the feeling you get when you see hundreds of smiling faces applauding your performance.
Creativity could be hundreds of different things, but it’s always the thing that makes time fly, people smile, pens run out of ink and guitar strings snap. It’s always the thing that connects countries and continents, teenagers and pensioners, the 12th century and the 20th century. It’s the thing that takes you out of this world, and into a place where anything can be achieved.