As part of my day job's ongoing quest to teach its new managers to be better managers <some Borg reference here> we've created a book club whereby a group of us read an agreed upon book and chat about it over lunch. Somehow I've become both the captain and steersman of this effort through some circumstances that still baffle me. That I'm leading a group of fellow managers when I'm the original anti-authority figure amuses me.
Anyways, the book we're currently reading is Orbiting the Giant Hairball, about creativity in a corporate environment. And as I read this book it strikes me that I really lucked out. Through sheer stubbornness and bloody-minded obstinacy I've managed to hold onto my artistic sense and allowed it to flourish. According to the book, and in line with my own observations, most people aren't so lucky. So the question arises how do we encourage creativity while still maintaining some form of standards...
The book talks about play and spontaneity as being necessary to fuel the creative process, but that from the outside such activities appear to be a waste of time and are thus frowned upon. And so creativity dies. I'm not quite sure how to foster play and spontaneity in others since by definition both things begin to wither the moment you attempt to codify them. And most people's lives are set up for the maximum convenience and the minimum zaniness.
On a note of personal craziness I like to go grocery shopping without a set list. Yes, this practice sometimes results in my forgetting things like toothpaste, but also allows me to pick things that I wouldn't normally have seen if sticking to a boring list.
Tonight it was raviolis, and now I've discovered a need for a slotted spoon (to fish the pasta out without having to use my colander) and yet another case to not follow the written instructions. The bag said boil for 8 minutes... don't overcook. At eight minutes the raviolis were hard little pillows, not soft pasta stuffed with squash. Liar I called the instructions and boiled for another 5 minutes to achieve edibility, because blindly following instructions is stupid. The whole argument of spontaneity vs formula loops nicely back around into my ongoing discussions with my sister, the trained artist. This past week she sent me flashcards with descriptors on how to talk about my art. I'm sure she meant well, but I looked at them and felt my brain start to atrophy. So I returned them to their envelope and painted a sunset instead.
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