Raw Stories and Creative Sparks
This special and fragile li’l essay is about two of the numbers that exist inside the privilege of turning fifty... Thirty-four. And sixteen. Maybe you’ve experienced your own version of this sort of transition or change?
Pulse. Stirring. Spark. Burst. Flood. Ebb. Ache. Breath. These are some of the words I’ve been collecting over the past few years to describe how creative energy feels as it moves through me (and maybe you?).
Before you price anything (a painting, a logo, a photo session, a brochure) you need to know three numbers. (Just three!)
I could wear the other words. But I couldn't breathe in them.
What if we're not the manager of our creative life? What if we're the SOIL?
