III. A childhood story
The last time I remembered being creative was the age of six.
In kindergarten we had different craft lessons. I was deeply engaged in these lessons, so much so that when they ended, it always felt like an inspiring beginning. I’d run home to ask my mom to buy me all the materials so I could carry on repeating the same lesson. My passion was to produce the best possible version of each creation until I reached excellence. It resulted in hundreds of versions.
I recently read a quote by Aristotle that said, ‘Repetition is the only way to perfection’. Only then did my childhood experimentation begin making sense for me. But I had not known it as a child, and neither had my mom.
Mom loved cleaning. One day I found all my paper lanterns in the trash bin. I still remember the pain. They were my precious creations. This experience led me to believe that whatever I created would eventually end up in a bin.