Isn't "Footprints in the Bath" just the best name?
It's a phrase that has been hanging around in my head since I was about eight years old. My cousin uttered it while we were playing together one day (can't remember why) and it lodged itself firmly in my grey matter.
Its stubborn refusal to leave my subconscious means that it keeps popping into my mind at the slightest prompting. I have an eccentric mongrel dog who loves to lick out my bath after anyone has used it (ugh!). Her calling card? Muddy, doggy Footprints in the Bath. I watch an Agatha Christie whodunnit on TV and then I am inspired to write my own - titled "Footprints in the Bath". I even have a mental picture of the cover illustration: bloody shoeprints in a pristine clawfoot tub. I idly study the antics of weaver birds as they splash around in my mother's garden birdbath and (somewhat eerily by now) I see spiky, little - you guessed it - Footprints in the Bath!
But isn't that exactly the thing with creative proddings? They simply won't leave you alone! Tama Kieves, author of "This Time I Dance", a book about pursuing your passion, says in it: "Your gnawing is your knowing". The only way to relieve creative itchiness is to scratch it.
It's a bit like dealing with musical indigestion. When an annoying song keeps repeating itself in my head, the only way to get rid of it is to sing the song through, out loud, from start to finish. People tend to scatter in the wake of my caterwauling, but it makes me feel better (so there!) and I've learned that a little self-indulgence can go a long way toward infusing life into my creative dreams and giving me the courage to pursue them.
The other thing with my persistent little pet phrase, is that it is a bit like the creative process itself. It's an uncommon arrangement of ideas, but when I relinquish my need to be "sensible", it works. And, once the idea takes hold I keep discovering new applications and angles. Who knows, maybe this time next year I will be pitching neon-coloured, stick-on, non-slip footprint shaped silcone bath mats to parents of small children, or even footprint shaped novelty baths to whacky designers.
But for now, I'm just scratching that creative itch - and hoping that someone finds my self-indulgence interesting enough to keep on reading!
