Cultivating Your Creativity
Honors 499, Winter 2009
"Draw the essence of a bottle... NO NO NO, not the outline-- the essence."
An entire quarter of a weekly class where I could express myself through seemingly silly exercises turned out to be one of my most precious experiences. In a small class of ten, somewhat already acquainted freshmen we jumped right into the strange and abstract. Iain Robertson was a madman to the extent of a genius. I thoroughly enjoyed all his activities-- from a nature walk around campus, to a visit to the ever-creepy Frye Museum, to an excursion to Kubota Gardens where we ran around in the chill and drew whatever we decided to draw. From doodling with crayons in a cafe, to having an "I agree with you, but..." conversation. From creating our self portrait Absolut style to seeing Iain in his landscape master element at the Horizon House retirement home. With all the mismatched, seemingly chaotic class full of activities, I can't seem to shake off random tid-bits of knowledge that I picked up from him. Did you know that the secret Greig Garden on campus is shaped like a peanut and benches placed at a slight angle so that any spot you choose is out of direct line of sight of others? Did you know that the Burke Museum cafe is the best place on campus to settle into an atmosphere of warm wood and classical music? Neither did I, until Iain.
One of the most profound learnings from this class was not only the plethora of reflections we left with, but an appreciation for the crafting of words, which Mr. Robertson is extremely good at. My collection of artifacts are not my reflections of the class, but his colorful rubrics that once littered my backpack. These are some of my prized possessions-- slips of paper that reinstate my faith in humanity's ability to cultivate their creativity.
An entire quarter of a weekly class where I could express myself through seemingly silly exercises turned out to be one of my most precious experiences. In a small class of ten, somewhat already acquainted freshmen we jumped right into the strange and abstract. Iain Robertson was a madman to the extent of a genius. I thoroughly enjoyed all his activities-- from a nature walk around campus, to a visit to the ever-creepy Frye Museum, to an excursion to Kubota Gardens where we ran around in the chill and drew whatever we decided to draw. From doodling with crayons in a cafe, to having an "I agree with you, but..." conversation. From creating our self portrait Absolut style to seeing Iain in his landscape master element at the Horizon House retirement home. With all the mismatched, seemingly chaotic class full of activities, I can't seem to shake off random tid-bits of knowledge that I picked up from him. Did you know that the secret Greig Garden on campus is shaped like a peanut and benches placed at a slight angle so that any spot you choose is out of direct line of sight of others? Did you know that the Burke Museum cafe is the best place on campus to settle into an atmosphere of warm wood and classical music? Neither did I, until Iain.
One of the most profound learnings from this class was not only the plethora of reflections we left with, but an appreciation for the crafting of words, which Mr. Robertson is extremely good at. My collection of artifacts are not my reflections of the class, but his colorful rubrics that once littered my backpack. These are some of my prized possessions-- slips of paper that reinstate my faith in humanity's ability to cultivate their creativity.