Eyes Wide Shut, the Art of Looking.

We are all born with the ability to be creative, to be curious to have imagination and to be capable of entirely fresh responses.

“Mam, what do ya mean I can’t fly, I’m wearing my Buzz Lightyear costume? Molly, did I tell you we got a new car, yea mammy got a pink sparkly one with ponies on the side? No teacher, we’re not clogging the drains we’re just playing mermaids?? Duh”.

However, all these abilities are washed out, churched out and combed out; all of this fades over time, through life, experiences and all of our thoughts and actions begin to be influenced by society. Our inability to open ours eyes when we now so desperately need to. Our aging imaginations must catch up with the ideas we desperately need to form to be ahead of the game, that is business and time.

What even is creativity? Are you creative? Hell, am I creative? How do we know? Caus’ our Mam’s told us so when we won the colouring competition in the local newspaper? Because when I was seven, I dropped an empty box of tea bags into the sink and tried to dye my little sister’s hair with the ink? As you do. How can you say that the sky is the limit when your feet are placed firmly on the ground? In this weeks class we were asked who was left handed. I am. Which basically means my handwriting is shite and I'm supposed use the left side of my brain and be logical, mathematical, ordered. I am none of these things. This doesn't surprise me though because I like being an outlier. I do things weirdly, I disregard a fear and caution when it comes to design and attack and idea head on. If it doesn't work out, I learn from it and try, and try again. I colour outside the lines and definitely don't know how to calculate things properly. I found this class interesting and entertaining. There aren't many classes where you're asked the lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling through a paper square to see what we notice. Mainly just cobwebs to be honest. We also discussed stupid shit no one needs, like the candle designed by Gwyneth Paltrow entitled

"This candle smells like my vagina"

It costs $75 to get your house smelling like Gwyneth Paltrow's vagina if you're wondering. For the record she was high on mushrooms in Jamaica when she came up with it. Not something they teach us in studio.There’s a quote plastered on the wall in Scholars the on campus pub by some guy with a mustache who’s name I forget that reads;

“I don’t care that they stole my idea’s, I care that they don’t have any of their own”.

This phrase has stuck in my head for quite a while because unimaginative people have always bored me. I always hated as a child when my friends said they disliked reading, that they didn’t enjoy stories, that they hated the library because we had to be quiet. It made me feel like an oddball, like the cabbage among the roses, for choosing novels over watching Hannah Montana on repeat. Its only as I got older that I realized that those who didn’t enjoy reading simply had an under-active imagination, similar to those who claim to be “bad” at art. People need to be able to visualize the scenarios in books and some misfortunate individuals simply cannot do that. They’d prefer if the books had pictures or best case scenario, wait until they put it on Disney channel, (present day Netflix). Reading is food for thought. Bill gates, multibillionaire, reads approximately fifty books per year, almost a book a week. He claims that

“You don’t really start getting old until you stop learning”.

Apparently, he refuses to stop reading a book in the middle even if he doesn’t like it. The more he dislikes a book the more notes he takes. Bill Gates, who is dyslexic was a voracious child reader and he is now the second wealthiest person on this planet. Bill gates was a cabbage among the roses and look how he turned out.