Creativity

I am fortunate to see what an influence my Uncle David had on me. Last year, David and my brother Kurt went to heaven just a few days apart. David was my favorite uncle, and he is the person I credit with seeding my love for music. He inspired my brothers and me to learn to play the guitar. For many years, all our family gatherings included playing music! We played folk music and classic rock. I sang and played, although I had no business singing. I am blessed to remember all the song lyrics, but I can’t hold a tune. David did not care if I could sing; he never told me NOT to sing. He knew I loved it and didn’t care how I sounded. Once, I complained to him about my voice, and David said, “Well, Dylan couldn’t sing either, and he did all right!”  When I started learning to play the guitar at 30, I struggled with making my fingers land in the right place to play bar chords. I just could not do it. David had a solution; he showed me how to adapt and fake bar chords. That trick freed me, and I began playing songs I thought impossible.

David was a genius with music. His soul shined, and he was happiest when he played. David taught me to honor my voice, appreciate the story in a song, and adapt so I can play. Now that I think about it, each of those points is a powerful lesson by itself, and I can fully appreciate his profound effect on me.

Interestingly, I had not picked up a guitar in a decade before David died. After he passed, I realized that a part of me was missing, and I still needed to play. I needed to make new musical memories, and I needed to share this love with my grandchildren. I wondered what songs would make my grandchildren remember me.

I also realized that I needed to write again. My grief for Kurt and David has inspired me to make this website to share my thoughts.

To me, creativity is a way to both mourn and remember.

When my brother Kurt passed, I listened to the same song for days and pulled together photos to tell his life story with one song and images. It was a precious task. David died the day after Kurt’s celebration. At first, I thought I would make him a video, but I realized that would not do. David’s musical influences were 60s protest songs, and the lyrics and the music stirred emotions without video. David was a genius, a musician who never played a concert. I felt that since this was his final act, I would finally give him a concert flyer instead of an obituary card designed on a funeral home template. He deserved something more personal. Instead of a eulogy, I made him this songbook with his favorite music. And when we gathered, we were heartbroken, but while we played his songs, we remembered how he shined when he played his guitar. And I remembered just how grateful I am that he taught me to love music.

The soul would have no rainbow if the eyes had no tears.

My parents have been a blessing to so many people.

In 2018, Mom and Dad celebrated their 60th anniversary. I wanted to bless them back, but at that time, I had writer’s block and could not get my creative juices flowing, no matter how hard I tried to write something wonderful.

Little did I know that another type of creative muse wanted to play. Instead of writing for them, I gathered photos of their life together. Next, I revisited a poem I had written for them 18 years earlier and thought about the song “Still the One.” Somehow, I merged all those pieces into a video, and then, for the first time, I recorded myself reading the poem.

What I learned is that if I let go of my expectations and allow creativity to take over. The result was wonderful!

^{Mom and Dad’s 60th-anniversary video by Ja-lene Clark}