I think there are different types of creativity. Some, as VW described Lamb's writing, are cracked across and starred with poetry. Rob the musician, Amy the artist, and Chris the poet all have that type of creativity (of my kids). Dave the attorney and Betsy the CEO (and I) don't so much. The other three have access to something deep that those of us with good ego strength and strong flexible boundaries don't. Not that the other three aren't sane--they just have a crack in the sane places through which the poetry shines. Or maybe they're more tolerant of the sort of Byronic excess that artistic experimenting can require.
Hopkins: "What I do is me; for that I came."
I asked Chris to sing me his newest song. He hunches over Jordan's guitar with his battered journal on his knee and squints at the words he's written. His lovely voice sings out - smooth, rough, a break - he stops to decipher his horrible block writing - he shakes his shaggy head, looks up with a grimace and a quick grin. He is beautiful. I see that whatever it is that is needed to do this - Dylan, Springsteen, Rufus Wainwright - the great minstrel songwriter/singers - Chris also has.
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