I found myself wandering the streets of Aberdeen yesterday. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a vagrant or anything (yet). It was something I meant to do. I like to do it. I like to look up, look around, look at things and generally notice stuff. Things that some people might not notice if they were staring at their shoes, or staring at their phone while they bump, pinball-like, into other people staring at their phones.
During my aimless wander or perambulation of discovery, I came across the window of a bar that advertised an interesting concept.
A husband crèche.
Huzzah! There it was, as if choirs of angels emerged from the sky, pointing me towards this spiritual nirvana of all things bloke. Football. Beer. Unhealthy snacks. Somewhere to have my fill while my better half goes shopping, unhindered by a daydreaming, mind-meandering partner.
So there we have it. A husband crèche. The embodiment of the notion that blokes are inherently children. I’m fine with that. Yes, I’m a big kid. And I’m a male. The less mature of the species, as my wife regularly informs me.
Here’s another thing. I’m also a creative, which means that imagination plays a large part in my general existence. So yes, I suppose I am a kid. A big, six-foot-seven-inch kid.
I have access to some invaluable resources. Three little kids, aged one, two and three. I still pinch myself sometimes. Actually, I pinch myself a lot. I’m like that.
But kids can teach us a lot. They see things pretty much like they are. And what they see, they’ll say. What they don’t know, they’ll question.
Something I think we should all do at times.
As creatives, if we acted like kids a little more, we’d achieve more. Apparently kids spend as much as two thirds of their time on non-reality, engrossed in imaginative play. Bring it on. Sign me up.
In fact, Albert Einstein famously said, “To stimulate creativity, one must develop the childlike inclination for play”. Even Pablo Picasso said, “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up”.
There we are. The words of true genius do it for me.
I’m off to buy a giant ball pit.