Creativity and hospitality go together. The best art is invitational.
A few years ago I lived with a friend who liked to go dancing – swing, salsa, and tango. She often invited me to go with her. I
wasn’t very good. Fortunately for me, when it comes to dancing, guys lead; girls follow. Maybe this sounds like outmoded gender politics, but as a beginning dancer, I was happy to let someone else take the reins. I quickly learned that there were three kinds of leaders on the dance floor. There were guys who were as clueless as I was. I didn’t feel embarrassed by my lack of skill when I danced with them, but lurching around the floor with them wasn’t all that fun either. Then there were the guys who were better dancers than I was and determined to show off. I remember swing dancing with one guy who flung me around like a yoyo, while he executed perfect moves. I was furious with him: he clearly cared nothing for my comfort or skill level; he just wanted to look good. But there was a third kind leader. These guys were at least as skilled as the show-offs, but they didn’t flaunt it. They taught gently, helping me forget my nervousness and find the rhythm. When they led, I danced better than I actually knew how to dance. These leaders were invitational; they gave me the chance to be beautiful.
The best writers, like the best dance leaders, are invitational. Through their stories, they create a space I can enter and explore. For me the highest art experience is the feeling of being taken into another place. Art invites me in.
If I use my creativity for anything, I want to invite others into beauty. Sometimes I get tripped up by my desire to be admired. But creativity isn’t about getting people to look at me. It’s about inviting people into beauty, saying “You come too.”
The Pasture
By Robert Frost
I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I shan’t be gone long. –You come too.
I’m going out to fetch the little calf
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I shan’t be gone long. –You come too.
Posted by Elise 

