The other day I saw a mother taking a picture of her small child with her digital camera. What do you think was the first question the child asked after the picture was taken?

“Can I see?”

When I was a kid we had to wait days, if not weeks, to see photos. You had to finish the whole roll of film, take it to the drug store or photo shop, wait until they were developed, and then go back to the store to pick them up.

Now there’s instant gratification. Take a kid’s picture and she gets to see it right away. No waiting. No delay. Results now.

Some would lament the fact that there is no such thing anymore as delayed gratification. I choose to look at it another way. (Some) Instant gratification can spur creativity and enhance ideas. Here’s how:

1. Instant gratification means opportunity for higher quality. If I don’t like my picture the first time, I can immediately take another one. The same applies to a blog post, a digital film on youtube or vimeo, or a song recorded digitally. Don’t like it the first time? Improve it. …And, in this day and age, you better.
2. Instant gratification means more output. If I can see results immediately, I have more time to put into “shipping” a quality “product” (See #1 above). More output. Higher quality. Sounds like a win-win to me.
3. Instant gratification means that I want to do more. When I have to wait for the finished product, my enthusiasm often wanes. But when I see immediate results, I get more and more excited about pursuing my passion and shipping my art.

When a child asks, “Can I see?”, let her see. Then encourage improvement, output, and motivation. Creative kids will thrive on it. Use (some) instant gratification to do the same for yourself. The technology of the digital age can be to your advantage: check out immediate results to create art of higher quality, greater quantity, and motivation to do more.

Where have you seen “instant gratification” work to bring about greater art?

All I could think was, “The trees are so BIG!” I recently drove down the street where I lived my earliest years. How could the trees be that big? They were so small when I lived there. Now they arch over the street like a grand cathedral.

And how could my house be so small? I remember my tiny, three-bedroom ranch being a virtual mansion. I remember running down the 15-foot hallway as though it were a 100 yard sprint. I remember the back yard being like our own “back 40.”

Time has passed, but my memories have not. As I drove down the street I remembered our homemade haunted houses occupied with Frankenstein and Dracula, the evenings playing Statue Maker out in the dimly lit front yard, and the plays we wrote, directed, and for which we made sets.

I remembered the endless evenings we spent playing Marco Polo in the backyard pool. I remembered shooting a BB gun at a target in the basement, Billie the Brownie hiding in the study around Christmas time, and whittling my Pinewood Derby car in the workshop.

I was reminded of my childhood friends, riding a two-wheeled bike for the first time, and pretending to be Bart Starr crossing the goal line. Our homemade go-kart raced the Indy 500. My first ten-speed bike took me on a race against imaginary Olympic athletes. I was a fisherman catching crayfish in the creek down the block.

As I reflected on a literal trip down memory lane, I was reminded just how wide open my creativity was as a kid. My right brain knew no bounds. My little house burgeoned with big ideas. But those ideas didn’t just remain trapped in my head. My sisters and I, along with our neighborhood friends, brought them to life.

It’s a great lesson for adult-style creativity. An occasional trip down memory lane is a reminder of how infinite and exciting creativity can be. It’s also impetus to carry through with ideas that right now may only be floating around in one’s head.

Dream as though dreams will come true. Create as through the creation will come alive. Follow through as though the follow through really matters.

Don’t be afraid to be a kid again.

When was the last time you visited, drove by, or even spent a few moments thinking about the house that provides your earliest memories?

My wife, Tammy, has always been an “environmental watchdog” of sorts. What I mean is that she sees the necessity for bright, clean, orderly, and “put together” public spaces and work places.

I have appreciated the way she has always kept our home that way. I wonder if other people notice that she does it in her church and school work place, as well. This past week she, along with her co-workers, have been preparing for a new school year:

• Brightly colored bulletin boards
• Swept corners
• Colorful fabric creatively hung
• Fresh paper decorating the walls
• …Even going above and beyond to make bathrooms spic and span

Clutter, dirt, grime, darkness, and old worn out surroundings have crushed my creativity. When I need to do something different, make something imaginative, or learn something new I truly appreciate surroundings that feed that creativity. My own experience is an admittedly limited scientific experiment, but bright, light, and clean spaces feed the creative spirit.

Thanks to my wife, I have learned that:

1. Clutter closes in on a creative mind
2. New and fresh surroundings mean new and fresh ideas
3. Clean rooms activate the senses
4. An orderly room brings order to the brain
5. Art on the walls inspires artful creations

This Thursday our school’s students return to class. They will find bright, clean, colorful surroundings to feed their creative spirit. I’m excited for them.

Need a creative boost? Find yourself a bright, clean, colorful place and watch your art flourish.

What’s your favorite place to create?

Creativity kicks off right from the very start. When you’re writing, speaking, or presenting, the beginning sets the tone for creativity, and, in turn, draws attention and piques interest. A creative start is essential for a creative middle and end.

How’s this for an opening paragraph?

THE BAT stays with me. Isn’t that strange? I did so many amazing things on this crazy cross-country trip in search of what baseball means in 2011. I ate a Dodger Dog. I marveled at the artistry of Adrian Gonzalez’s swing. (“Artistry” is the only word that comes to mind; if the swing could be frozen, it would be in the Louvre.) I chatted with Vin Scully, took in a game with Bill James on an afternoon when the temperature topped even the heat of Justin Verlander, watched Prince Fielder uncoil his wonderfully violent swing. I contemplated eight simultaneous big league games while eating pizza in Manhattan’s East Village, then, 15 hours later and 157 blocks to the north, drank in the sound of a city in full celebration of history. I munched Cracker Jack in Cooperstown, that little American village where people so desperately want to believe baseball was invented.

This paragraph comes from an incredibly well-written article about baseball in the July 25, 2011 issue of Sports Illustrated. Once I read that opening paragraph there was no way I was going to put the magazine down. I had to keep reading. My persistence paid off all the way through, until I found myself shedding an emotional tear at the end of the article. Read it for yourself. You’ll see.

But it all began with the introduction. The introduction of this masterful article does three things:

1. It piques my curiosity. Of which bat is he speaking? Out of all the incredible things he lists in the opening paragraph, in the end it’s a bat that “stays with (him).” I want to know more.
2. It gives me an overview of what is to come.  I know I’m going to learn more about Los Angeles (“Dodger Dog”), Vin Scully, the best pitcher in the game (Justin Verlander), and one of my beloved Milwaukee Brewers (Prince Fielder). I want to read more.
3. It uses adjectives and description to draw all of me in. A baseball swing that deserves to be in the Louvre? An afternoon topping the heat of Justin Verlander? Pizza in Manhattan’s East Village? Cracker Jack in Cooperstown (…nice alliteration!)? I want to taste more.

Granted, I am a huge baseball fan. But even if you are not a fan of baseball, I challenge you to read the article and not be interested, impressed, and drawn in by the writing.

And it all started with a masterful introduction. Creativity starts at the beginning and flows all the way through.

What examples do you have of great introductions?