I’ve always been imaginative, and have attempted to document my creative musing in a variety of ways, in a variety of mediums. Imagination doesn’t always mean dragons and unicorns. I think of imagination as envisioning things that aren’t physically in front of you. This could mean conjuring up my recollection of what a Coke bottle looks like, or what a horse or a dog looks like. These are familiar shapes. I can draw a dog. More specifically, I can draw a corgi. I can use my imagination and paint a school of corgis swimming below the surface of the water, or a family of corgis in a station wagon, or flying a Cessna over the Grand Marais harbor.

I use my imagination to solve problems unrelated to art. I use my imagination to help me understand and decide my next move in resolving an interpersonal conflict, a house repair or interior design idea, a question of employment, travel, or just about anything outside of my autonomic nervous system. We all do. It’s called thinking.

Being an artist, imagination is generally understood to have a more specific meaning in regards to creating visual (no offense to musicians, foley artists and music producers) pieces that will convey the desired message. That message could be simply the likeness of a landscape, still life or model, or a more personal or historic message from the artist. The nature of the message is unlimited.

Obviously, my art reflects events in my life. My life is all I have to draw on. I benefit from what others have discovered, because I can read books, view art and watch film. This reading and viewing are part of my experience.

The most bizarre, the most fantastic object or beast I can manufacture will be made entirely of pieces of information I have seen or otherwise sensed. That is the way it works. Input/output. You can’t picture a new color, you can only mix from our primary colors and make them lighter or darker.

George MacDonald used that new color idea in his story The Golden Key, and I borrowed it in Flash Meridian. I can’t ask my reader to envision it.

I think you can expand your own creative mind and ability by using it.

Like so many other things, we improve our ability with practice. I also find it helpful to read books and listen to podcasts about creativity or by creative people. You might pick up an idea here, or a trick there. Even if you try to copy it, it will come out of your hand in your way. The amalgamation of all your inspirations will come out looking like you, because it will be you.

Honestly, the opinions of others rarely influence or change what I create. I create alone in my studio. I do enjoy feedback and constructive criticism, especially from my artist friends. When it comes to criticism, no. I try to let that roll right off my back.

Sometimes a critic has a valid point, and they may open my mind to a new way of thinking. If I distill something valuable from it, it’s my own openness and subsequent consideration that turns the annoying piece of sand into a pearl.