One Apple A Day #93
“But that’s not how you do it!”
The way he looked at me. It wouldn’t hurt less if he punched me in the face. I kept moving my eyes from his face and the half completed drawing on the table. All my life I’ve been teaching people creativity and when it mattered, I stabbed it with my words. I murdered the imagination of my son. And it hurt.
While I faced those eyes, I kept telling myself “Maybe I didn’t kill it. Maybe there is still time to save it. Say something!”
But my lips were sealed. Tears were growing on the corners of his eyes, and I knew. I may not have killed his imagination, but the scar was going to remain forever.
That was the day when I learned that my creativity was dying. And I decided to start the journey that would take me back to my childhood.