Making excuses for a lack of creativity?
If the street department can create art, so can we all
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Georgia O’Keefe once described art as filling a space in a beautiful way. Gauguin called it a mad search for individualism. For me, art is a twist on the expected, evocative and often beautiful, an intentional creation that provokes a new perspective. Art pops up in the most unlikely places, if you pay attention.
The first time I felt surrounded by art and creativity was walking the streets of Paris. Every lamppost held ornate details that someone had imagined, sketched, sculpted, and cast in metal. Downspouts made into gargoyles; plain chain link bridges gone abstract with bronze and silver locks; flower markets a riot of bouquets and blooms, each a canvas for an impressionist’s dreams. So much creative talent to take in, before even setting foot in the Louvre or *sigh* the Musee d’Orsay.
I live in the Pacific Northwest, where we are in no way short on evocative beauty. We’ve got mountains that inspire me, rivers that fill my soul, sunsets painted across big skies that never can quite be captured in a photograph. And loads of creative spirit — but here, we just don’t often find art in the everyday, like a person does in Paris. Our street lamps and downspouts are more utilitarian, our flower stands less voluptuous. But sometimes, if you pay attention, you can spot art in the most surprising places.
Sometimes when I feel stuck in my writing — like there’s not one drop of creativity to be squeezed from my brain — I’ll take a break from my computer and hop on my road bike. One of my favorite biking routes takes me through some of Central Oregon’s most dramatic scenery. We ride past llamas and donkeys grazing in meadows, drop into canyons to cross rivers, then labor to climb the other side, and catch views of the Cascades each time the road curves west.
Most of the the roads have narrow bike lanes, but only a few get enough bike traffic to merit a painted biker symbol. You’ve seen it: a geometric stick figure over two circles. Watch for bikers, no frills. Until the street department happens to hire a creative crew member who adds their own flair — and suddenly we’ve got art scattered throughout the bike lanes of Bend, Oregon. We’ve got biker symbols with exploding fireworks for heads (see above), with Bullwinkle antlers (my personal favorite) and bikers finding the key to unlock their heads (see below.)
Is there a more mundane task than painting road lines and symbols? I doubt the job description included “must think outside the lines, explore new ideas, take initiative for eye-grabbing creative humor and artistic skills.” But there it is. The takeaway is there there is no limits on who, where, and on what medium art can be created. We don’t have to go to Paris to find surprising sources of creativity. Our brains should never be dry and void of the juicy stuff. If the street department can find a way to do their job with creativity and sass, so can we all.
