What Creativity Means to Me

Hello and welcome to my blog!

My name is Hennessy and I’m so glad you’re here. I hope you enjoy all of the exciting things I have planned for this blog. The hope for this little corner of the internet is to build a place that will be a haven for creative expression. Here I will post book reviews, short stories, personal essays, writing advice cobbled together from my own experiences, and anything else that fits into the little box I’m building here. Or maybe we’ll cast boxes aside and do something entirely new? The possibilities are limitless because creativity is limitless. So this is me inviting you to push the limits of imagination with me.

I have been writing and reading all my life, so much so that I cannot remember a time before I learned to read and write or a day since then that my thoughts haven’t been consumed by one of those two things.

As a small child my mom was always reading to me. In fact some of my fondest memories are of the times the power would go out and, with nothing else to do, Mom would sit and read to me by candle light. We would stoke the fire in the stove, eat fire roasted tortillas with butter and salt, and read until the power came back on. I always felt safe and loved on those dark nights. It was like I had been transported to somewhere else by that setting and those stories. To this day reading and writing conjures up those same feelings inside of me.

And it wasn’t just my mom that fed into my love of literature and creative expression, I also had this one aunt who always gifted me books. Every birthday, Christmas, and even a few gift giving holidays she would make up throughout the year, I knew to expect a book. She gave me old favorites of hers and sought out new series just for me. I absorbed every story heart and soul: writers like Beverly Cleary when I was a small girl and Victoria Holt once I had grown into a young woman. The way she fed into my love of reading and nurtured my desire to write was crucial during some of my most formative years.

But the familial contributor to this lifelong passion of mine who I think of most fondly was my grandfather. My ‘GPA’ -as we called him- was a quiet sort of man but incredibly giving. Always ready to sneak us kids a candy from his secret stash or just let me sit on the floor of his study and run my fingers back and forth across the spines of his books -all of them about baseball and politics, classics and the wild west. He never minded if I sat and read while he watched baseball and I never minded when he called my attention away to something happening in his game, even if I didn’t really understand what was going on. When he found out he had cancer he gave me his old college literature textbook. I loved that he knew I would want it and to this day I still cherish that old tome. After his passing my grandma gave me his old copy of Black Beauty, saying he had always wanted me to have it. I know I never said a word to him about it but that book had always been my favorite on his shelf.

These are just a few of the people who have nurtured and cultivated my mind over the years; and really there are so many others that I couldn’t possibly squeeze them all into one blog post. And I would really like to know who the figures were in your life that steered you down the path of the thing you love most? Was it a parent, teacher, family member? Let me know in the comments!

Until next time, stay passionate and excelsior!

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