Thanks for squashing my idea. You cut me off as I was sharing it and threw it on the ground. You trampled on my idea. You made me watch as that precious little spark was extinguished and yeah, you squashed it.
We obviously approached the chat from different places. You see, I thought we were there to share some ideas. You know, like new things we hadn’t considered yet. It seemed you had just brought your pre-loaded high calibre idea sniper rifle. Those ideas didn’t stand a chance, I mean they barely had a moment to breathe.
But did you hear that other sound? No? Well, you were busy dropping and squashing ideas, so how could you. That was the sound of a crack in my creative confidence. It’ll be a while before that gets fixed. I hope it gets fixed.
When you look around the room and notice others, yeah, those other quieter voices. Or even the silent ones. You know why they are silent, right? The cracks in their confidence haven’t been fixed. Creative cracks just grew. They still have ideas, I know that. They just keep quiet, choosing not to participate in the fortnightly Idea Duck Hunt.
I just wanted to let you know that there are thousands of idea headstones carved because of people like you. We mourn those precious little sparks, those little glimpses of something new, different and unexpected. We still think about those ideas and the fleeting moments we had with them.
Despite the fact that our gradual creative grief makes us not want to share, our ideas keep coming. They brim up when we least expect it. Entrusted to our notebooks, napkins and daydreams. We know they will have their time in the sun. Probably when you and your shadow have moved on.
Thanks, but no thanks.