She was creative. But, not like the others. She was creative because she had to be creative. She was creative out of necessity; out of survival. She eyed the room and the people in it as if it were all familiar, as if she had spent all her life making art out of broken things. There was a sadness there. Like she had seen some shit and done some shit. But, there was also hope too. She grew up with broken things and was once a broken thing. But when the other kids went to church, she found Jesus in her creativity. That was her savior. I learned something that night, standing there watching her watch the world with that gaze that seemed to hold it all together. I learned that in some rare instances, creativity saves lives. And that if there were a supreme deity, it would tell us to make good art.
By Cole Schafer.
P.S. One day these one minute writings will be a big book called “One Minute, Please.” Can I let you know when that day comes? You can say yes, here.