As I write (dictate) this I’m sitting on Ernest Edward Bailey’s bench on the North Cornwall coast.
Edward died in 1996 and his wife Margaret put a bench here together with his work colleagues from Derby.
The view is utterly spectacular and if the notice on the bench is anything to go by Ernest loved it too.
I’m in the middle of a trip to the North Cornwall coast with Callum and Isla the dog.
The space and the peace and the time that I have here is so precious.
The time to think and the time to walk, the time to scheme and the time to plan what life will be like for the next 10 years or more (if I last that long).
I think this is what it means to me to be creative.
I had a conversation with a long standing friend recently about the need to make space to be creative for all of us.
Creativity is not the province of artists or writers, it is for all of us to take a chance, to think about how we could make things better, to think about how we could make ourselves better and to lift our nose off the grindstone of life, to look higher and further and beyond where we currently are.
Much scheming has been done this week and some of it will even end up here.
For all of us though, particularly people of my age, going on holiday to drink and to cook in the sun is perhaps not entirely the best use of life.
Blog Post Number - 2817