It was probably 1993, I had a little car made out of wood that had a flat surface containing 9-12 wooden blocks. The print on them was faded, I remember the red one with a black mark and a yellow one with a green one, I am not 100% sure. The vehicle had 4 wooden wheels and a string to pull from, I guess I was 4, 5 years old? Not sure, but I remember it.
I don’t remember many other things but that toy was one of my favorites, just wooden blocs of the same size, I wish I could remember the stories that I came up with while pulling the car in the house where I lived for a big part of my childhood.
I am now in an Airbnb room in Berlin at 00:20, two hours ago the first day 1 of a 3-day digital collage workshop finished and as usual I found a pattern that keeps repeating in the initial class after a creativity exercise. We forgot how to play, even more, how to enjoy playing. In the exercise, we try to come up with connections between two very random images, which I am sure that a kid could solve in a second if you give them the task in a way that they can understand. When we grow up, we tend to overthink and it’s fine, we have been programmed to make “right choices”, to fear “what others might say of how I draw”, or even to what they might think of why I came up with these images. There is a really good article that describes why we shouldn’t care about all these adult existential problems. Its called Taming the Mammoth: Why You Should Stop Caring What Other People Think.
Another eye-opening talk is Dallas Clayton “Kids lessons” at Creative Mornings Chicago. Listen to it while working and get out to play at the lunch break.
When was the last time that you played? Not just play soccer, tennis, or video games. When was the last time that you played like a kid? Where behind every move of a toy, a new story is created, a small universe of imagination comes alive, on the spot, like a freestyle rapper we came up with crazy stories about a Power Ranger being a scuba diver attacking Rambo at the sink where mum washed the clothes at the small cement backyard that the duplex had in my hometown Berazategui. This one I remember.