Your August Creativity Mini-Challenge + New, Exclusive Short Story by Me!
+ A quick, 5-minute creative hit to kick off your weekend
Hello, Protagonists! In this post you’ll find:
🎉 5-minute Creativity Mini-Challenge
✍🏼 A new short story by me (published exclusively here on CREATIVE. INSPIRED. HAPPY)
🎉 Your August Creativity Mini-Challenge
It’s a common myth that creativity has to be a huge undertaking. I actually believe we can spark it with just small moments, and anyone can do it, not just professional artists.
Also, these little bursts of creativity can lead to larger inspiration or simply bring a smile. Both are wonderful and enough in their own ways.
So here is your Creativity Mini-Challenge for this month. It’s based on a picture I took and will only take you five minutes. (Below, you’ll find my take on it, although I admit time gets away from me once I get going.)
Look at the photo of the street art below (alt text available for accessibility).
How did this wall mural get there? Tell yourself a super short story or doodle something about it.
REMEMBER—This is supposed to be whimsically rough! It’s not about perfection. It’s five minutes to dream—just for you. Have fun!
CREATIVE.INSPIRED.HAPPY is a warm, vibrant community of thousands who believe that EVERYONE can spark creativity and build an inspired, happier life.
✍🏼 My whimsically rough, super short story:
Jesse had been called many names—Troublemaker. Kleptomaniac. Pathological Liar.
Were they accurate? Maybe.
But one thing no one called her was an artist, despite the beauty of the graffiti she made.
Maybe it was too “messy.” Maybe it wasn’t traditional enough. But why could nobody understand that you didn’t need a staid museum or a gilt frame to qualify as art?
So one night, when the rest of her well-to-do town was asleep, Jesse called every painter she knew, from rebel graffiti artists to community college students to professional house painters. The latter called in a favor to the owners of the Sherwin-Williams paint store.
After arming themselves with buckets of calypso blue, bright carnival orange, and “real red”—the truest red of reds—they descended on the quiet downtown and set to work.
They worked for hours and hours, methodically executing Jesse’s plan.
If the close-minded townspeople couldn’t understand this mural, then there was no hope left at all.
In the morning, as the coffee shops began to open and the sleepy residents stumbled out of their homes for a latte and croissant, they all came to a stuttering halt in front of what had previously been a long, blank wall.
“ART IS GOOD FOR YOU”
the mural declared.
One by one, the once-grumpy residents smiled.
Then they reached for their phones and snapped photos, sending them off to their friends.
Within the hour, it was standing room only in front of the rogue mural, but there wasn’t a scowl in sight.
“Maybe we should commission more street art,” the mayor said.
“Hear hear!” the townspeople raised their paper cups of coffee.
And even though no knew that Jesse was the “artist” behind it all, for once it didn’t matter to her that they didn’t acknowledge her in that way.
Because she had made a difference and reminded them of what they’d known in their hearts, but perhaps had forgotten on the long path of life:
ART IS GOOD FOR YOU.
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*If you’re curious, that photo is from La Jolla, California (part of San Diego). I took it in June of this year when I was visiting for my friend
‘s book launch at Warwick’s Bookstore, which is just down the block from the mural.
Love the story❤️
Here’s mine. Sorry if formatting is weird. Wrote it on my phone in the backseat.
The Mural
The girl walks, shoulders slumped, feet dragging, confidence shattered after yet another stinging critique from her art professor. She think he’s the embodiment of the phrase: those who can’t, teach. As far as she knows, he has never given any student in her class a mark above a B. She’s convinced he lost his passion so he’s trying to crush theirs.
If it wasn’t for a stoplight, she would’ve completely missed the bright blue mural with the exact message she needed right in this moment. Art is good for you. It makes her remember the smiles from friends and family when she’s presented them with her art as a gift.
Ever the art student, she takes the sketchbook from her bag, mind already forgetting that she’d been on her way home. She crosses the wrong street, though it’s the right street for her, and makes herself comfortable underneath the word good. And she creates.
*****
The man hasn’t finished writing anything in years, rejection after rejection shattering his creativity long before the young writers of this time were even born. Ideas have abandoned him. He still tries. He sits on his balcony a few times a week, preferring the scritch-scratch of his pencil on paper over the click-clack of computer keys.
Some days an idea will spark but quickly turns to embers. Some days he ends up with doodles and nonsense he can’t decipher even though it came from him. Nothing sticks. But he perseveres anyway in hope one day, something will.
Today is different. When he steps out on to his balcony, bright blue catches his eye. Art is good for you. He’s not sure he can fully agree with the statement, at least with his personal art, but it brings memories of attending gallery openings and operas and street art exhibitions with his late wife. An idea sparks, he gets comfortable, and it blazes.
*****
The child can’t yet read but the pretty colours catch her eye. She’s been dancing down the sidewalk next to her mother, who’s pushing her baby brother in a stroller. She immediately asks her mother what the words say, but the child isn’t sure she understands. Art like pictures? She doesn’t like to paint. It’s messy. She can’t yet write many words, but she can write her name, her mother’s name, and now her brother’s name.
The child loves to dance. Her mother, with sad eyes, has told her they can’t afford dance classes like some of her friends’ parents, but the child doesn’t care. She makes up her own dances to any song that speaks to her. Is that art? Can she decide what is art?
I love this prompt!! And your story! Thanks for this, Evelyn 😍😍
Another installment of Cookie & Drew made an appearance when I sat down to write ❤️ Little longer than five minutes, but I couldn’t help it! 😍😍
Cookie nervously chewed her bottom lip, a habit she’s had since childhood. All the intrusive thoughts swirling around in her mind. The what if game her anxious mind conjured anytime she attempted something new. The newness of this moment just so happened to include a handsome man. Picturing Drew in her minds eye brought a small sigh to her lips and quelled the worried chewing briefly. The thoughts couldn’t be quieted as easily.
What if he doesn’t show up?
What if something happens to him?
What if I got the dates wrong?
What if he changed his mind?
She looked back through her texts with him, finding reassurances in the sweet messages he sent her. He was definitely interested in her. She could scarcely believe her good luck when he asked her to meet for a coffee and walking date. He’d said he wanted to show her his favorite place in the city. She couldn’t say no.
She chose a table by the window so she could watch for him, as soon as he walked by she tapped the glass. He looked up at her and smiled, she swooned and tried not melt into the chair. Who needed coffee when her heart was racing so fast she could feel it through her t-shirt.
She stood to greet him and he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze. He stepped back and nodded appreciatively at her, she blushed and he blushed. They shared a low chuckle.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Yes, please” she replied.
They walked together to the counter, placed their orders and waited. After coffees in hand, Drew took Cookie’s free hand and tugged her outside.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
They chatted about their days and sipped their coffees. A few blocks later and he tugged her hand again to slow her down.
“Close your eyes please,” he said.
“Mmm, but I’m holding coffee and your hand, how will I walk? she worried.
“I won’t let you stumble,” he promised.
Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily and smiled. Just when she thought she was going to trip, he stopped and told her to open her eyes.
Directly in front of them was a beautiful hand painted mural in a stunning blue - her favorite shade, and the lettering spelling out Art Is Good For You was a perfect shade of yellow outlined in red, making it bold. Art does that for us, emboldens and brings us hope.
She had tears in her eyes when he faced her.
He knew she understood now why this was his favorite place. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as the tears fell. No one had ever shared with her something so simply beautiful.
The truth is art IS good for you and now they have a shared favorite space.