My Creativity!

I really hate it when an local event is publicized in the newspaper like this:

"Comic Book Making Workshop! COMICS!!! Sunday afternoon at Museum of Latin American Art, join us for a rolicking festival of INK! DRAWINGS! CAPTIONS! VOICE BUBBLES (BUBBLES PEOPLE!)!!! make your own comic book for FREE comic book comic book comic book SUNDAY!!! Free Event at MoLAA. Be there or you SUCK!!" - LB Press Telegram, Weekend Section

And I'm like, "that sounds cool - there is no way that this could possibly be disappointing." But I think that is because imagined my own workshop and then mistakenly assumed it was the real one, the one I would attend in the real world. I really wanted to attend my fantasy workshop (to be taken in the least dirty way possible) and I applied these criteria to the free workshop:

1. Some sort of idea of what comic books are would be presented, i.e., narrative techniques, history, voice, shading, ink, etc. (I wished wholeheratedly)
2.There would be examples of comic books (I imagined lazily)
3. Someone there would know something about comic books (I dreamt with gusto)
4. Leaders would be able to provide assistance on making a comic book (I hoped desperately)

But no way, that is absolutely crazy. All of these radical assumptions were met by a whiteboard that said "dialog" (still not sure that is English, but wikipedia says it is. Wiki-dumb) and had a rough sketch of nested squares that I supposed was a mock up of a comic book page. And a few volunteers who were... volunteers. I was displeased from the moment I walked in. My dream world collapsed and a harsh reality presented itself.

And, yeah, I had an awesome time with my friends, playing with nib pens and stamps and laughing at the silly shindig. We didn't bring a big production comic book into life, but hey, we wouldn't have done that unless we were in a week-long $800 workshop at the local Marriott. And you can bet the end result probably would have been just as crappy, but with the added bonus of unending shame knowing that our expectations weren't met and that we were talent-less hacks. At least after the free one I could hold my head up and look forward to doing more. I left with dignity intact.

Go to a free workshop somewhere or a free concert or dance-off or something. Instead of expecting the best artwork or the best music or the best dancer (I'm looking at you, Robot-Man on Fisherman's Wharf), just bask in the glory of people who want to do what they love, people who have to start from the bottom, people who may don't want the best and are satisfied with what they got. Isn't that where we all are anyway?

No, not you Robot-Dancer, you are at the top of your game. Don't you dare hide that talent.