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Writer's pictureJill MacCormack

05/25/2011 The Creativity Project

The original piece of writing which shaped the August 2011 manifestation of The Creativity Project still *feels relevant today. Perhaps even more so. This was published on thistownissmall by its founder, the magnificent Becka Viau. The lovely photo on the original site accompanying the writing was taken by thistownissmall's current executive director, the multi talented Monica Lacey.


We are living in a world defined by our image of ourselves, and choices we make based on that image. That self image is in turn being defined by internal and external forces, both large and small.


The Creativity Project hopes to be an external initiating force towards reconciliation of the internal and external, between the self and the society it creates.


We live in an age that demands urgent, creative, and compassionate attention to the suffering of the world. The suffering can be viewed as imponderably great and binding in the manner of its complexity and reach, but also as grounds from which new ways of understanding and responding can emerge.


In short, The Creativity Project hopes to elevate awareness, and provide an impetus for change.

Cacophony of Silence

There is a silence present now

so like death it takes my breath away.

A force so large, so deafening it quells

the brightness of the world.

It has no face or name or voice for none

it needs; it thrives on the life force of

the faceless, the nameless, the voiceless,

and the vice of those with plenty.

It will try to sell you beauty, joy, freedom

and security. Its sales pitch is image, youthfulness

and vitality without end.

With policies of mass production, a frantic pace,

confusion and alienation, its insidious ways are

coordinated, tabulated, regulated: highly orchestrated.

Its only end is money; power and control, and its only means, destruction:

destruction of land, sea, air, body, soul and culture. Death- deafening death.

What are you being sold…and at what cost?

Be heard above the loudness of the silence:

Get to know your natural environment

Dream, imagine, hope, and believe new ways of being

Seek alternatives

Be open to beauty

Be open to wonder

Turn away from fear and move in the direction of LOVE

Practice mindfulness

Be gentle with yourself and kind to others

Take time to be quiet

Respect different ways of being

Learn to value concepts of simplicity: lagom, wabi sabi

Cultivate an attitude of gratefulness

Learn to sit with uncomfortable emotions

Buy locally more often

Buy plastic less often

Don’t buy into images


Appreciate local arts and culture

Express your creativity

Talk to your neighbours

Practice community mindedness

Acknowledge the impermanence of all things

Be patient and tolerant in the process of change

—–

As artists we are called to use our creativity as a means of holding up to the light the hurt and fear of the world, so that we can penetrate those walls that silence has created: apathy, disillusionment, disempowerment, destruction, dis-ease. In doing so, we are redefining our confusion and pain, our fear and separation into something hopeful. We become the portal through which newness can emerge…. Softened and pliable once again, our society and culture can be re-created, sustainably, for the future, for the better.

This idea is a work in progress and by no means do I want to claim it as my own

By adding your voice the “Cacophony of Silence” will become less deafening. Please feel free to add your ideas, be it a rant or a hopeful image/ words.

Please respond.

Thank you,


The Creativity Project https://thistownissmall.com/2011/05/25/the-creativity-project/


* I get a little embarrassed when I read old things I've written. Embarrassed by my naivety, lack of skillfulness. I share this old writing with you today because in its brokenness it represents something still alive in me. Despite periodic exhaustion, overwhelm, and moments of near despair, I still awake each day with a heart resting in gratitude and hopefulness. I wish you the same.


Cheers,

Jill MacCormack

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