A long time ago, without knowing what design was, she dreamed of creating something that would make a difference in the world (although she did not use these words to describe it as such, at this stage in her life).
Her father wouldn't accept the terms, "I'm bored" (and this boundary kept her imagination alive). Rainy afternoons were not measured in front of the television. Found objects, dried leaves and paint offered the tools to create her own personal narrative.
This is me. With an awesome hairdo, exquisite fashion sense and a means to visualize my ideas. And for the record, I'm ever so curious to recall what I actually crafted on this particular day.
(This photo is courtesy of my dad)
30 March 2010
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2 comments:
if i ever said "i'm bored" my mom would assign housework to me. leading, of course, to the amazing discovery of plenty of things to do. funny how that works! i got good at self-directed play and perhaps, as you are suggesting, creativity itself.
if/when i have my own kids we'll have a very similar policy in my home.
My dad used to ask us to retell the story of the thing we made. Then he'd write it verbatim on the item so we'd have a record of our grandiose ideas. I think that notion has stayed with me in my research and work (visual storytelling). Now get to your homework, Mr. Graduand (which for the record, is a very strange word to say).
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