A fully functioning human being

A few years ago I had the privilege of flatting with a wonderful Australian teenager who was, what I grew to call, a “fully functioning human being”. If the need arose, she could paint, draw, sew, dance, sing, play an instrument, laugh or cry. She, in my eyes, was proficient in essentially the whole gamut of human creative ability. After meeting her, I aspired to becoming a fully functional human being, myself.

What does it mean for me to be a fully functioning human being?

Well, if someone asked me to draw them a chicken - I would say, uninhibitedly, “OK”. No excuses, no can’ts, no recommending another person who would be better, no half hearted attempt. I would just give it an honest shot. And what ever the drawing becomes, it is what it is, and its OK. Maybe the finished product looks nothing like a chicken - but to be able to say “OK”, and have no doubt in my mind about my ability to do it - that I am able to put pen to paper and have no concern of the outcome, is what I would consider to be fully functioning. There is no right or wrong when it comes to the arts. My chicken may look completely different to your chicken and our abilities will be different, but it has become my aim that these (mere) details will not stop me.

If my chicken was two circles, two lines and an arrow and I had the intent in my own mind of drawing a chicken - well then, that is my chicken. If the viewer was not particularly impressed with my rendition, or perhaps they cannot see a chicken at all, that would be OK. They might find someone else to draw them another kind of chicken, but the chicken I have drawn will be representative of my ability to put pen to paper. I know that, physically, it is within my capabilities to put lines on paper while thinking of a chicken, or looking at a chicken. I also know that the more I draw chickens, through a process of trial and error, my likeness to a real chicken will improve, or not. But the important thing is an uninhibited, “Yes, I will draw you a chicken.” Maybe I could rephrase that and say “Yes. I will draw you my chicken.”

When I am creating this chicken with no inhibitions; when I am enjoying the process of making my marks on the page; when it no longer matters to me whether someone thinks my chicken is good, or not; I feel like then I will have achieved my goal. So what about you? What if I asked you to - Draw me a chicken? Dance me a chicken? Paint me a chicken? Sculpt me a chicken? Play me a chicken? Make me laugh about a chicken? Rap me a chicken? Write me a chicken? Film me a chicken? Build me a chicken? Sing me a chicken? Would you be chicken? Or would you give it your best shot?