Where does creativity come from?

Sometimes the synchronicity of it all astounds me. Everywhere I turn this weekend, the theme of creativity has been rampant. From Luke George’s reflections on his dance practice on Thursday afternoon to Dumbo Feather on Friday night to a discussion with strangers last night to this morning’s art exhibition by 4 year old Raffi, the question, where does creativity come from, has been picked up, turned over, weighed and reflected upon. I don’t have an answer. But the thinking is rich. 

Raffi invited us to his home-as-gallery with the white walled living space acting as installation and environment. We were able to witness the artist-in-residence working on his latest clay piece and, while the paintings were not for sale, the yarn jewellery was.

I asked Raffi where he got his ideas from, he just shrugged and said he just sits at his craft table and he just knows what to do.

The x-ray of Raffi’s brain at 8 months is perhaps the missing link. If you stare hard enough at it, you may well discover where creativity comes from.



It was a day of bests.

The best BLT ever. At Rowena Parade Milk Bar where they were playing New Zealand music (Trinity Roots and the Black Seeds) and where the staff were friendly and the coffee was good.

The best fish tacos ever. And as if that wasn’t enough, the best Martini ever. Perfect balance of dry, olive, mixed wonder. At The Dining Haul on Ormond Road in Elwood.

French waiter, New Zealand barman and chef.
A conversation with some other people at the bar about where creativity comes from.
What more could you want?

Now Now Now

Luke George is a dancer. I felt as though I was talking to Sonny, as in Sonny and Cher. Or Jesus.

We sat in the middle of a beautiful space, a high ceilinged hangar-like place, Arts House Meat Market.

Luke George is a thoughtful artist who constantly reflects on his practice and, despite not wanting his craft to be all about questions, he does ask himself a lot of them in pursuit of real and exploratory performance. He is about to tour in the Netherlands, Norway and New York. Apparently the alliteration of his itinerary is pure coincidence.

We talked about mind and body and space; being in the moment and how to achieve that without creating more of a divide between us and the now. Presence in a performance way. What is that and how do we know what that is? How do we know how to be present in the moment? Do we know when we have achieved it?

Luke George gave me a lot to think about.


Tonight I went to the White House. St. Kilda. Dating back to 1856, this majestic building on Princes Street houses Small Giants. Small Giants is a family. Founded in 2007, their aim is to create, support, nurture and empower businesses that are shifting us to a more socially equitable and environmentally sustainable world. They’re all for those who change the world. One of those world changers is Dumbo Feather, the magazine celebrating extraordinary people and extraordinary ideas. Since 2004, Dumbo Feather has been having conversations with people who are passionate about what they do. And tonight they celebrated their 32nd issue and their success in the kickstarter campaign to raise enough money to go digital and launch an ipad app. 

Approaching the White House, the strains of gypsy music could be heard. I entered the gate and there was magic in the air. Gypsy music, fairy lights, braziers, wine, licorice allsorts, the possibility of toasting marshmallows over the aforementioned braziers. And lots of creative, interesting, extraordinary people. I loved it. I danced a little. If only on the inside.


A written kind of sigh

 From one day…

…to the next.

Sometimes it’s lonely being a little fish in a big pond. It’s terribly brave and awfully exciting and there are moments of exhilaration and moments of alignment and moments of pure glowing happiness. And then there are moments which feel very lonely.

Permanent value

From the moment she entered the shop, she was seized by an excited feeling. A feeling that anything could happen. It was a shop like no other she had seen. For someone with a heightened sense of awareness, an appreciation of the beauty and possibility of life, this first step over the threshold was almost too much to bear. Where would she look first? What were the stories behind the objects, arranged and stacked and filled and illuminated from the inside? What were some of those objects?

Je ne sais pas

I want to understand. I want to be enriched and have the penny drop and feel the flood of philosophical and existential wellbeing course through my veins. But no. I stood in front of it. I looked at it. I breathed in and out deeply and let the energy take hold of me. But non…rien.