“The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.” ― Pablo Picasso
Is it though? I've got lots of good sense. I've sort of won awards for it. Me=good sense. Me=voice of reason. I don't consider myself creative. Really - that's not begging for internet love. I promise.
I have long debated Picasso's premise (mostly with myself). Especially in the moments when I'm feeling particularly "creative" in not-so-productive ways. Or when I'm thinking I need to give the therapist a call, or in the rare moments when I have wondered whether medication for my worry and anxiety might not be a bad idea. And, then I think (in a somewhat cliche, expected manner) if I get medicated, then I won't be me, I won't be "creative."
I think I've got creativity inside of me. Like, it wouldn't be in the top five adjectives I use to describe myself, at least professionally speaking. But I actually do think I've got creativity inside and it comes out sometimes. It's clearly been used up this month with this #90day I mean #30dayjournal, but I come up with good solutions that I would classify as creative. I'm not "a" creative like I consider B to be, but throw a problem at me and I can solve it - creatively. Does that count?
Also, this whole writing thing, okay maybe that's not super creative - or at least this version isn't.
Fine. What's wrong with good sense anyway?