Put something new into the world!

I've been thinking a lot about creativity lately, and I admit that I am tapped. Creativity is probably my strongest muscle-I am was always making stories, cutting up magazines and photos for collages, singing while dancing around the house, having elaborate conversations that take place between my animals... etc- and it is atrophying. School, working, responsibility, life... it is sucking me dry. The fact that I sat down to write about Rachel Alexandra and had nothing to say really struck me. Watching her race has probably been the coolest thing that I have consistently done this year, and I remember every detail.

*Pulling over to the side of the road so that I could close my eyes and listen to the Kentucky Oaks on the radio, my minds eye seeing every step of grace and beauty.
*Roadtripping to a "local" racetrack to watch her run in the Preakness, surrounded by grizzled old gamblers who were cheering her on with emotion rarely seen in jaded old men. Little girls and their mothers, wearing pink and holding up "Go Rachel" signs, a mother passing on her passion to her daughters, or being drawn back into a love of horses by their offspring's interest.
*Running against the girls again, Rachel clearly outclasses them, telling the world she is ready for a bigger challenge.
*Shoving schoolwork to the side on Haskel day to watch Rachel again take on the boys. The racetrack was packed, again with little girls, mother's, people young and old waving signs in support of their favorite horse, who indeed "runs like a girl." It brought back memories of myself as a child, with my Serena's Song poster that I made especially to watch (on TV, I don't know who I thought was going to see that sign!) her take on the boys in the 1995 Haskel. She did not disappoint; neither did Rachel.
*And then, the Woodword. Having conquered all other worlds, Queen Rachel set her sites on another- racing against older male horses. No matter what she did, I would not have been disappointed. She could have tried her best, run dead last, and I don't think she would have lost one single fan. But I so desperately wanted to see her win; she deserved to conquer the next world. And those boys did not give her an inch, pressuring her the whole way, launching challenge after challenge. For a few moments down the stretch, I thought I was Calvin Borel and bounced up and down on the couch, flailing my arms as I willed her to hold those boys off to the line. And Woodword day will go down in history as the first time that a 3 year old filly beat older horses in a dirt route race in New York. It will as go down as the day that M learned that sitting next to me when I am watching a horse race is dangerous.

So, creativity. Creativity is necessary to making sure that events like this are properly documented. A hundred years from now, the only way anyone will be able to understand what we all felt watching Rachel live will be by reading what was written about her. Looking at photography. Watching race replays. Viewing art she inspired (and believe me, it is already out there!). Creativity applies elsewhere too- in our whole lives, and how we relate to people. Nothing ever goes by the book, and without taking a creative approach, where will we be left?

This thought inspired one of the classes that I am taking this semester, a social work class that is all about therapeutic creativity. I added this class on a whim because it was upper division and I liked the title, and I am so glad that I did. Nothing is by the book, and we discuss helping people through art, music, theatre, pet therapy.... anything that outside of the box! My project for this week was to create a piece of art representing an aspect of my therapeutic interest; I spent two lovely evenings representing the human-animal bond through art. This project was so soothing, the stress of my other classes and work just melted away. So, there is my resolution and suggestion to the world- sing, draw pictures, write a story, do Mad Libs!

Your sanity will thank me!